Big Island Day 3 -- 4/11/17

     There's this great place called The Fish Hopper on Ali'i Drive with an excellent view of the water.  It was there that I had a Loco Moco, an Hawaiian breakfast I'd had in Maui years earlier..  Still a yummy, fattening mix of fried rice, scrambled egg, and a hamburger patty smothered in gravy.  All served with Kona coffee, of course.

     I need to note that there were a couple of women sitting at a table near me.  One woman was complaining to someone about how high her long distance bill was going to be.  On her cell phone.  In Hawaii.  Yeah, it's a real mystery how her bill could have been so high.  And she actually took another call while on the phone with the first person!  As much as this trip was making me have serious smartphone envy, at least I wasn't with someone who paid more attention to her phone than me.  And I certainly wasn't facing a $400 phone bill coming back from vacation.
     Properly fortified, it was time to tackle the daunting drive down to the Volcano.  Did I mention that the Big Island is big?  The road to Hawaii Volcano Park was long, curvy, and fronted by ever-changing scenery.  Most of that scenery was pretty bleak.  Piles of volcanic rocks would give way to fields of brush, sprinkled with the occasion small town or farm.  This was better than travelling Saddle Road as there were places to stop, plenty of gas, and ample evidence of human life but it was still kind of depressing.  It kept getting darker and darker the further south I went with occasional bouts of rain.  I didn't think much of it at the time; it is still Hawaii and it's the rain that keeps everything lush.  But Gigi informed me on my last day that a lot of battles were fought on the southern part of the island and that bad mojo still clung to the place.  I totally believe her as I got more drained and tired as the trip when on.

     Just before reaching the park, I took a detour to Punalu'u, one of the island's black sand beaches.  The area was absolutely gorgeous and the almost Gothic feel of the place kinda added to the bad mojo theory.  I finally got to see a a turtle, just lying there on the beach like it was posing for photos.  Or dead.  I'm still not entirely sure the thing wasn't dead.  It didn't move once while I was there.

     As pretty as the beach was, it didn't really invite visitors to stay long.  Sure, there were bathrooms, plenty of parking, and a few concessions stands, but the off and on drizzle continued under the overcast skies and it was chillier here than in Kona.  There were people sitting on the beach in windbreakers instead of swimsuits.  I took my pictures and walked for a bit to stretch my legs before jumping on the final leg to the Volcano.

     The $20 fee to enter the park was good for 7 days of revisits.  That's great but I already knew that I would not be getting on that road ever again.  With Saddle Road and now H11 a bust, I knew I'd have to make arrangements to fly out of Kona instead of Hilo.  Sure, there was always the option to take H11 north to Hilo as it circled the entire island.  But I'd only been on the island a couple of days and had already had my fill of driving.  Flying out of Kona was the only option and I'd just have to eat the cost for my poor planning.
     Once in the park, I went to the Visitor's Center.  It had a theater showing lava flicks, a gift shop, and a bunch of displays of the park's wildlife and history.  I was just in time to join a tour group led by chipper man named Dean who looked like Steve Martin.  He took about 40 of us on a 45 minute walking tour to the summit of one of the volcanoes, I can't remember which.  He pointed out various plants and had a handy set of laminated pictures to go with his lecture (See?  Lots of rain here -- it was drizzling in bursts during the tour.)  He was a white guy but explained that he had moved to the islands about 10 years ago and had been adopted by the Hawaiians.  He was very enthusiastic about everything he discussed, warning us beforehand to stop him if he got too carried away talking about a fern.  I do admire passion even if I don't share it.

     He led us past the red Volcano House, a hotel/slash restaurant that was very convenient for anyone wanting to do some serious hiking in the park, and along what used to be a road until the volcano made it unfit for cars.  From there we could look over a rail and see the volcano itself.  No lava, as even the rangers can't predict when and where the lava will flow, but we could see the steam vents and the vegetation growing out of the rock.  Dean ended the tour with a prayer in Hawaiian, a story, and a song using a nose flute.  It was a nice, reverent end to the tour.

     Back to the car, I went up the short road to the museum. I opted not to do any of the longer car tours as it was still gray and raining and I did not want to be on H11 after dark.  The building was much like the visitor's center with gift shop and displays as well as a view of another volcano.  I could actually see tiny bursts of red shooting out of the fissure -- when I could see anything through the crowd of people.  With everyone gathered around the railing straining to see lava, I could barely slip my camera in between them to take some shots.  I could see lava but the camera angle was off so ... I'd say better luck next time, but I highly doubt I'll be visiting this park again.

     Since the crowds were working my nerves, I set off on the long, long trip home.  I got back to Kona around 5 pm and as much as I wanted a shower (I had brought a long pair of pants and a jacket to wear over my shorts and t-shirt and now everything was damp and clingy), there was no way I was going back out for dinner if I went directly to the hotel.  I needed a cosmo and some fried shrimp and went looking for the first place in Kona that would oblige.  Bubba Gump fit the bill and its location right on the water allowed me to stare at the sunset while getting my drink on.

     When I pulled up to the hotel, Gigi was standing outside talking to one of the other guests sitting on her balcony.  She took one look at me and said she could tell where I'd been just by how I was unpacking my car.  "Let me guess:  volcano?"  "Volcano, " I nodded.  "You're a smart woman."  She said she could always tell when guests had headed south because there was this drained look on their faces.  People who'd traveled north tended to look more relaxed.  She'd been to the volcano twice herself and knew how brutal the ride could be.  She advised I make the next day a rest day to recover.  The only thing I wanted to do was sit on the lanai and eat my pineapple in peace.