Hiking Leahi – Oahu’s most famous Volcano
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October 2001 - terrorism, anthrax, airports in turmoil and still it took us only nine hours door-to-door from our Winter Palace in fabulous Las Vegas to our luxurious accommodations at the Aston Coconut Plaza Hotel five blocks off the world reknowned Waikiki Beach. The Coconut was to serve as our stalwart base of operations during our two night layover on Waikiki.
We're on a 20th anniversary mission to Maui, with a hike to Diamond Head as a warm up. Neil, the cool desk guy, checks us in in no time, recommends a bar and we're at the Shore Bird Bar & Restaurant on the beach. Mango Margaritas, spring rolls and the sound of the surf prime us for a short stroll towards Diamond Head. It's now about five pm local time and Waikiki comes alive, the Tiki torches flicker and live music wafts through the air at each hotel we pass. Duke's is the choice for dinner; it's Waikiki cool, fresh fish done Duke-style - on the open air patio and we're sippin' a '99 Duckhorn Sauv. Blanc and savorin - every minute of this paradisical respite. (Vintage wines abound on this tour, '97 cabs long gone in stateside wine cellars were to be found all over the Islands.)
We're up early the next morning, not hard to do with the time difference, another advantage of being on Hawaii time. We've planned to hike from the hotel, down the beach, past the zoo, aquarium and park, and up the steep grade through a small neighborhood to the top of Diamond Head - so called because western traders in the 1700s mistook crystals in the rocks for diamonds.
Finally we reach the trailhead, pay the $2 admission, make our way past the T-shirt vendors and flashlight salesman. There are dark passageways on the way to the summit - the trail was built by the U.S. Army as part of a coastal defense system in 1908. My wife, Pam and I, begin the 1.3 km climb from the Diamond Head crater floor.
The infamous steps to Diamond Head.
The weather is hot. This is steep, rocky terrain, so in addition to our flashlight we've bought, we are attired in appropriate hiking shoes, plenty of water, sunscreen and bat repellant. The trail winds through the crater floor as we climb the 560 feet to the upper gun emplacements - 74 concrete stairs, a 225 foot long narrow tunnel, a second stairway consisting of 99 steps, which leads to the lowest level of the Fire Control Stations. Finally we climb the 54 step spiral staircase and find ourselves atop a piece of history, with the best view on the Hawaiian Islands.
We've made it, after 227 steps and an equal number of Japanese tourists. We discover a light breeze, a light sunshower, a rainbow, a million dollar view, blue skies, and an ocean that goes on forever. Behind us tower the lush, green, tropical Koolau mountains covered with billowing white rain clouds, more rainbows, another damn rainbow - alright, enough with the rainbows.
That's when we run into Mitch. Mitch looks like a tour guide on the Safari African Adventure ride at Disneyland - Mitch looks like his name should be Steve, as in the Tao of Steve, as in Steve McQueen, Steve Austin or (how appropriate) Steve McGarret. He's sporting the Aussie hat with the one side turned up and he's giving a speil to a group of us eco/hiker/tourists about his nature hike through the rain forest later this same day. Mitch is part of the Hawaii Rain Forest Foundation, it's non profit; the tour is three hours and only US$15 per person, (other comparable tours, and non-tax deductable, cost between US$80 and US$150) and they pick you up at a designated hotel on the Waikiki strip. At first we decline Steve's, er, Mitch's speil and wander away to try and get away from all the rainbows, when we decide we've got some time and bat repellant left so what the... We sign up with Mitch and head back to the Coconut for a refreshing dip in the hotel pool and then to the designated hotel.
The tour turns out to be great. Steve, er, Mitch knows his stuff. Even the ride up the mountain to the rainforest/state park is fun and informative. The park could be "National" park, but is designated "State" park so that the natives can harvest fruit, nuts, bamboo and be free to practice whatever kind of weird rituals they desire without interference from the U.S. Government. As we leave the bus and begin our three hour tour, we pass little tokens and offerings that the natives have placed around the trailhead to appease, bribe or pay off whatever spirits or Gods that may be lurking about, and they're lurking, you can feel 'em.
As sure as there are rainbows, there are spirits in this jungle.
The rain forest is alive with ancestors, lush tropical growth, muddy trails, feral pigs and, well, rain. Mitch points out Ti plants who's leaves, when wrapped around money, bring good fortune and, well, more money. We sample fruits right from the trees, suck on Brazilian pepper seeds, and hear the calls of the tookie tookie birds echo through the rain soaked trees. Mitch pontificates that not much on these islands is natural. Europeans imported diseases that wiped out 80% of the population, with 80% of the bird species decimated by imported rats and mongoose.
Diamond Head Crater.
Side note: As Don Henley and Glenn Frey so eloquently state in their song, "The Last Resort," "You call someplace paradise, Kiss it goodbye." Karmically, the "Jesus Saves" sign mentioned in that famous Eagles song is on the neighboring island of Maui, in Lahaina, near the world's second largest Bhudda statue outside of Japan.
Mitch sure knows his stuff. I don't know, I think these guys make a lot of this stuff up. I know I do when entertaining visitors in Las Vegas. Countless numbers of friends, relatives and their children think that the "Battle Of The Little Big Horn" was fought just outside of Pahrump (the center of the universe by the way), or that a water treatment facility at Lake Mead was used to load "Victory Ships" during the war, and electro-magnetic rays generated by the hydro-electric equipment at the Hoover Dam create mutant catfish the size of jumbo jets. But that's just my warped perception and not meant to cast aspersions on Steve, er, Mitch. Just because we didn't SEE any feral pigs, dosen't mean they're not there. In fact, one member of our group, and there's always one member of the group who does this, made some pig noises and we ALL thought we heard a pig reply. Mitch assured us that while birds might reply to such a call, pigs would certainly not. Mitch's assurances aside, I strongly feel the field of pig calling on Oahu is in need of a large research grant; if you have funds you'd like to direct toward this endevour, please contact me C/O Jetsetters Magazine and we'll set up a base camp on the patio at Dukes.
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By Mike Heiney, Las Vegas Jetsetters Magazine Correspondent at www.jetsettersmagazine.com
About the Author
Mike Heiney, Jetsetters Magazine Correspondent. JOin The Travel Writers Network in the logo at www.jetsettersmagazine.com