Shall We Meet? Again?

How many times have you run into someone what you know? That you`ve just met? In another city, another state, another island, another country, another time? I remember in Burning Man everyone essentially threw up their hands and said - Perhaps, perhaps I`ll find you, but worry not, if you don`t see me. In the desert, there are no plans. But there must be a strange mathmatical probibility, improbibility factor at work that I just don`t understand. Maybe something like Bistromatics.

Factor in if you would - With no plans, no mention of where I was going, no idea where I was going at the time... As similar with the participants of this little venture, what`s the probability of walking into the same place at the exact right moment to discover that Fate is playing silly buggers again?

So there I was, minding my own business... No... actually I was couch surfing in southern Kyoto when my host decided to bring home another couch surfing guest, a Spanish woman named Marta. It was a surprise, something of a surprise for her too I gathered. But we became friends and traveled around together looking at shrines and hunting Geisha. Geisha are fast and hard to catch.

So then I wandered on to Hiroshima, but decided to stay in Miyajima for the picturesque beauty of it. A good choice, it is beautiful and one of the nicest places to explore that I`ve found. It also has my favorite temple　Daisho-in. A temple that seems to be based on the principles - if you have room for one, why ｎｏｔ　ｆｉｖｅ－ｈｕｎｄｒｅｄ？ My last night there, who should wander into the common space (where we were all huddled to keep warm) but Marta. She had decided to also come to Miyajima and managed to find me while I was downstairs on my computer. Not a great feet I grant, it was warmer downstairs than in my room so I spent most of the time there. Still, she wasn`t in the same room as I was, that I know of. We greeted each other warmly and then I decided, somewhere around two AM, to head to Beppu, as my plan to return to Tokyo was on the fritz. So, the next day I headed to Hiroshima to figure out how to get to Beppu and because I wanted to go to the A-bomb museum, which I hadn`t gotten to before. I highly recommend it for anyone and everyone who can go. It`s a rough museum. But it`s important to know how ill informed we are, how dramatic the suffering of nuclear war is. And how much foolish power we give our goverment, and our greed. That type of suffering is very real... and horrible... Please ask me about it, I`d like more people to understand.

Anyway, not five minutes after I arrived, I heard my name and looked up to my great surprise. There was my Australian friend from Kyoto. We spent the day together, wandering around the memorial and talking about how impossible it is to fathom true nuclear war.... bombs a hundred times more powerful than the one that obliterated a third of Hiroshima`s population within four months of its detination. Its not the four thousand people that died instantly that make you shudder... it`s the way the other 136,000 died. But even a bomb that can kill 4,000 people in an instant is terrifying. We try to make such a strong argument for our use of the bombs.. We can`t. We exterminated a third of a city`s population. Indiscriminately. Innocents. Children. And those that survived continue to suffer... for generations.

But this is not that story... I spent the day in Hiroshima instead of moving on as I had run into a traveling companion whose company I enjoyed. We took pictures, went to see the christmas light show, had dinner together, before he finally had to head back to Kyoto, and I to find someplace to sleep.

Then I went on to Beppu. The land of hotsprings, way in southern Japan. And who should come join me, but Marta. I found her as I walked into my hostel the afternoon after I arrived. She was checking into the same room as me. Very funny. So we spent the last couple of days wandering around together and going to onsen. She had been bound for Nagasaki and decided to head south to Beppu instead.

What are the chances?

Mysterious Moments

Ten hours on a train....

I missed at least three transfers and in my rough attempt to save money, spent a whole day riding the rails. A day... which could have been an hour, if I had taken the shinkansen. That's something so inconceivable to our country. The sheishun ju hachi kippu - a cheap ticket in japan, is awesome, if you don't care where you're going and have all the time in the world. Which I sort of do. But I decided where I wanted to get to... and therein lay the problem. Eventually it got too late with all the mistakes I made and I bought another ticket for an express train and arrived exhausted after missing my trains three times and so on. I was also rather hungry, not getting to eat a proper meal at all.

So i decided to reward myself. I'm in Beppu. Hotspring town! I bought lots of food, decided to stay three days and went immediately to a all night onsen about two blocks away. After enjoying the delicious warm waters of the onsen, I ventured into the late night to find that it was snowing. Beautiful large flakes swirling through the night. I wandered back to my hostel through streets that looked more like they belonged in Europe than in Japan, singing winter songs.

Beautiful end to a hard day.

In Kyoto following Kitsune

Kitsune is the Japanese word for fox... the closest thing I have to a personal Kami... though you have to add Coyote to that mix too. Yes, I am led by tricksters and wander wondering why things seem to bizarre. Spirits, fey folk, call them what you like, I am in their thrall and have no intention to leave.

After a brief conversation with my Japanese cousins Taka-chan and Ma-chan, I've decided to head out to Kyoto, since they said it was the most beautiful time of year here. And so it has been. The red maples have been in a full blaze of glorious color and everywhere I walk leaves are falling. I have spent a lot of time walking. Some time biking and more time seeing where I've ended up.

The first week I spent, a little sick, in the Kyoto's cheapest inn hostel. A wonderful little hostel situated between Ninjo- Castle and the Imperial Palace. I spent many hours enjoying the massive gardens in each. I rented a bike from the hostel and rode out to east one day and ended up making friends with an Australian Asian and we went adventuring together for awhile, taking pictures of all the amazing trees. At one point we attempted (and failed) at translating a "Do Not Enter" sign... with his knowledge of Chinese characters and my knowledge of Japanese grammar. We then proceeded to ignore the sign and just step over the fence and go exploring. A real adventure even including the necessary old Japanese gentleman who appeared suddenly and we had to avoid and escape from.

I went out to Kiyomizu on a day and went to a fantastic light show there. A simple light show to be sure, but really rather amazing. Essentially all it involved was lighting the fall's glorious colors up at night. So everything glowed and looked fiery. They lit a bare forest with gold so it looked like a real wonderland. But the best thing was that because it was dark, the illuminated trees reflected perfectly on the black water of the pools in the gardens, the reflections looking like they had more depth than the actual forest. It was easy to see why Asian artists are captivated by painting with color on black silk...

I went to Sagano... situated in the mountains, where there is a place where they've tamed the monkeys and you can feed them and take pictures of them, and try not to trip over them. It was nice to get away from the main city and get out in the mountains for a little.

I went to Nara where, similar to the monkeys of Sagano, there are hundreds of deer hanging around expecting to be fed crackers. I spent awhile with one that just enjoyed licking my hand. Here I have seen the most amazing wood work, wood sculpture that I think I will ever see. Amazing detail in the features including wrinkles and lines in the fingers, draping fabric, and incredible expression. Not to mention size. There was one Oni or Kami sculpture that I wouldn't reach it's knee... entirely made from wood. And the huge Buddha... comparable to Kamakura's Daibuddha which is bronze, but completely made of wood. The wood work is easily comparable to some of the master marble sculptures of Italy.

Then there is my beloved Fushimi Inari Jinja... the giant fox shrine that covers a mountain side. Open 24-hours and free, I have spent two days there and will perhaps go there once more before I leave tomorrow night. This is the famous shrine of red torii gates. Walking through them is like walking through a den. I went and walked it one night and on my way back I saw two tanuki... or japanese badgers creatures. Adorable and strange looking.

My trip has had a lot of mixed rain and sun. And I am writing this on a day of rest that I decided to take, while it rains outside, and on the eve of my departure for Hiroshima.

My trip has been filled with joys and woes. A great deal more trying than the paradise I left behind... but a paradise in it's own right. Ahh fall... the leaves that burn brilliantly before they die, set against the white of castle walls and gray of temple rooftops. Aki.

Tokyo Sprawling

Tokyo Tokyo... Tokyo makes New York City look small. New York City makes Tokyo look short. New York City streets make Tokyo streets look like sidewalks. And for anyone who is wondering... Yes there's a shrine or temple basically on every or every other block in Japan.

So for all you misguided Gaijin.

1. People in Japan DO NOT speak English. You can find some. They're rare.

2. Japan IS Expensive. In really strange ways. You don't get as much for your money in grocery stores but eating out is about the same, really expensive places and really cheap places. Clothing is really expensive. Transportation isn't so bad. And it's possible to get anywhere by train or bus. But renting a place or staying at a hotel is insanely pricey. By the end of a week you're really not sure how you ended up spending a hundred dollars a day or something.

3. You will not see people in cosplaying. At least if you do you're very lucky. The Japanese are amazingly conservative and seeing a Japanese person wearing colors is enough to make me do a double take.

I've been spending time with my cousin, Adrian, who has been teaching English for the past year and his girlfriend. It's been very enjoyable wandering around with them, and on my own, looking around Tokyo. I was even able to connect one day with my Japanese cousins, Taka-chan and Ma-chan.

I've been resting a lot and trying to find some place to stay that wont cost me a kidney or something like that.

It's very amusing (and very easy) getting lost in Japan. The streets are basically not labeled in Tokyo or grid-like. And most streets look the same. And the signs are all in Kanji so if you could read the kanas, you're still out of luck. I wonder how kids get around.

It's beautiful autumn here. The maple trees are bright flaming red and the ginkgo trees are bright yellow. I don't meet many people or talk to many people... partially the language barrier and partially that it's hard to get a Japanese person to acknowledge you most of the time. But sometimes I wander around and play with my practice contact ball, which gets pretty immediate attention and very amused looks from the people around me. I also caw at the giant ravens when they're being noisy, much to the entertainment of the locals.

Tokyo is not my favorite city though. I enjoy being able to see the mountains and the ocean and Tokyo is basically an enormous city sprawl. Kyoto is next, since everyone says it's stunning this time of year (and it is), and then... who knows?

And so she wanders day by day, knowing only the moments as they past and then laughing at the memories.

Do you adventure when you wish? Wandering over the hills and along the paths, losing yourself to see what you find when you find yourself again? Have you ever stood at a crossroads and simply looked and listened to your feet, choosing the path by that alone?

I wander where I will. For me and for all of you. I watch what I can. I see and go where I can. I live and I breathe. Needing no more than food, clothes and somewhere to sleep. What a life it is.

End of Kalalau Meanderings and Farewell to Paradise

I have been woefully irresponsible lately... including keeping up with this blog...

But for the end of my story... when we last left our hero she was on the path home from Kalalau...

So I packed up my camp ate some granola bars, nuts and such and headed out, relatively early. It was overcast but not raining, a good day for hiking. Too worn and tried shoes, and a broken backpack, and my fabulous hat, set out along the path again. The first climb is hard. Loose sandy soil and a pretty immediate vertical climb for awhile. Once through that I settled into an easy pace and began my long journey back. I planned on either getting through it in one go or settling in at Hanakoa for the night and breaking up the hike. As it happened, the choice was once again taken from me.

After about an hour or two, the skies began their mockery of my progress. Light rains at first... enough that I didn't bother pulling out my raincoat or anything. It would rain and stop and rain and stop. It still wasn't bad hiking weather all and all and I pushed on... passing the unofficial 8-mile camp, I saw three young gentlemen, resting for a bit. Half a mile later, it was pouring. I ducked into a little shelter that I had noted earlier, a bush, similar to the one I camped under, with a good hollow in it. I knew that if I had to, I could wait out the storm here. I really didn't want to, but the trail was slick and I didn't like the idea of traversing it in this sort of rain. But with a light pack and a steady pace, I hadn't been doing bad. I didn't really want to go back to 8-mile. I could just snuggle down under the relative shelter and spend the night. I was hoping that the rain would pass and I could press on at least to Hanakoa though. Then I heard someone screaming. I had noticed her go by on the path a moment ago and worried I quickly left my brushy shelter and went out to see what was going on. She was in hysterics. Her hiking partner was a little down the trail and she had been screaming for him to wait for her. By the time I reached her she was with him and had calmed down a bit. Not wanting to interfere, I passed them and decided to carry on, damn the rain. Another few twists, up another hill, and over a very treacherous, slick, obnoxious, clay section that took all my capoeira balance and skill and several convenient roots as handles to get across, I came to a long curve where I was able to see the other side and the exposed rocky section before 7-mile. There I saw the three boys clinging to the rocks. They stood there for awhile and then turned around and saw me. I thought I caught the words "No Trail! Go Back."

The idea of no trail definitely disturbed me. Shrugging I moved back and hid behind the lee side of a boulder, waiting for them to come and report. The wind was blowing hard and the rain was gusting. They came up and said there were landslides and boulders and the trail was out and so on. We decided to find some shelter. We headed back and found a nice spot under some trees and banana leaves and soon the other couple I had seen joined us. The boys told their story which didn't help the womans nerves at all. I decided to build a fire. It was pretty wet and rainy but determination will prevail, and then the man produced an instalog... so much for my making fire in the rain skills... but instalogs are useful. Soon we had a smoking, but warm and pleasant fire and we began drying our soaked clothes and chatting about what to do next. Soon we discovered each other's stories. The three boys had a plane out that night and were in a hurry to get back. They had decided to only have one day in Kalalau and were hiking out. They weren't real experienced backpackers, they'd done some but had never hiked Kalalau before. The woman was talking about how to get a helicopter to take her out. She also wasn't experienced. The man was an experienced backpacker, but he was really quiet and also had never done Kalalau. I almost groaned cause I instantly knew my position in the party... While not having experience or any such things, I also was keeping my head the best and getting things done... I had the charisma and determination and so on... I was the leader.

So we hung out around the fire and talked and got warm. Eventually I told them that once the rain stopped for a bit I would run out and check how the trail was. Then we could decide whether we could go on to Hanakoa or if we had to go back to 8-mile. This is Kalalau... there's no cell service, no calling for help, no rescue, you have to get yourself out of sticky situations or pray there's someone around who can help.

Eventually the rain did let up. And, true to my word, I went back up (leaving my backpack behind) over the treacherous slippery clay section, around the big bend where I had spotted the boys, beyond along the rocks until I could see the switchbacks. The trail was fine, even the footing wasn't as bad as I had feared. That decided it for me, I was going to try to get everyone to head out. By the time I got back they had almost started come looking for me. The man and I talked a bit. We agreed that if we could, even though he and I were certain that we could do it, we needed to try to get everyone to go together. It immediately became a struggle. I had his vote but chatting merrily and encouraging brightly, the three boys and woman were still quite nervous about the idea. The boys came to the conclusion that they wanted to wait an hour to let the path dry. I didn't like the idea... I tried to convince them of the break in the storm idea and taking the opportunity presented, but they were adamant and the woman still didn't want to go at all. Finally I agreed. One hour. If it wasn't raining then we'd see about going on. So an hour went by and it didn't rain (this was after almost an hour an a half of talking convincing, exploring and waiting already so we were around two hours of no rain before we began this hour wait). So finally after the time went by, I had everyone convinced that I was either going to leave em all behind or take them all with me. We began packing up and getting ready for the next leg of the journey, heading out together.

Of course, the moment we were ready, it began pouring. Now a couple other people went past us before the downpour began, but there were no hikers coming from the other direction. I didn't blame them, it was crazy weather to be hiking in. So we settled in to wait but this time I told them that the minute the storm stopped, we had to move. We couldn't wait for another nice break like we had to sit around and twiddle our thumbs. I at least was going on as soon as it cleared. After another hour the rain stopped again. I hoisted my pack and said - let's go!

After some grumbling and nervous mumbles of wanting to stay, everyone packed up and we began moving. The main encouragement that I had been pulling was that it was helpful to have someone leading who was adventurous of spirit and so I would lead the way and all they had to do was follow and we'd all make it together. The first part was one of the hardest, the deep slippery clay. Bracing and using the roots, hand over hand, climbing along the slippery slope we got past it. One of the guys, the one just behind me, was pretty steadfast. Once the decision was made he helped, calling back encouragement and advice to his group. He could also see the difficult spots I got into before the others could. We went along the great curve and onto the exposed rocky section. The wind here was intense but at least the ground wasn't slippery. With both hands on the rocks, glancing at the ocean far below, we headed on, step by step. Then came 7 mile, the dreaded switchbacks. This was the spot I was oh so glad not to have had to do in the rain last time, it was hard enough dry. Taking a deep breath, we started up it. The lower area was a bit of a bowl so we weren't too nervous starting out. But the switchbacks climb higher and higher and were difficult every step of the way. Exposed and slippery there isn't much to hold onto and the ground is loose. "Hand and Feet!" Became the cry as I warned of each dangerous patch and scrambled slowly and carefully over it, once again blessing the balance I learned from capoeira. I could easily brace my body weight against my various limbs and shift them. We made slow progress, it was me then the boys then the couple. Step by step. Each dangerous patch I glanced back at the guy behind me and said "shh" then would smile and wink and call back, "this part is a little tricky, just keep your balance over your hands and feet and keep moving." Every time I wanted to say, oh don't worry things get easier now, but I would have been lying. So instead I just said, "We're doing great, keep digging your feet in, use your balance, stay low." The last section before the beginning of the brush was the worst. I stopped and felt myself sliding. I had to keep my feet moving to keep from slipping right off the trail. "This part is bad," I said and moved forward, working hard to figure out what to hold onto or how to do it. Eventually it was a matter of digging my feet in and staying as close to the left wall as possible and trying to place as much weight as possible on my hands. It was about twenty feet of hell. At one point it was a matter of reaching up over a corner and digging your hands into the dirt basically to keep yourself balanced. But once past that the trail widened a little and a quick scramble over some deep mud landed me on solid ground again. Standing up and taking a deep breath, I didn't want to have to tell my struggling band what I had just gone through. But I stayed where I was, perched on a bit of dry land, knowing that ahead it got easier with the underbrush and called back to everyone. "This part is rough! Just keep moving!"
Then I proceeded to talk each person through that section. One at a time until everyone had made it through. That was the roughest part, we had made it through. By the top of that hill, it started downpouring again. But we kept going, sending warnings back along the line of tricky spots and things to watch out for. The way was much easier now, despite the rain, and we were all in good spirits to be alive.

Then came the river. Between 6 mile and us was a very large river. Swelled from the rain with all sorts of warnings about not forging during rushing water. We waded in and out (already soaked not caring much about getting wet) trying to find a way across. Finding the best route, we were still pretty nervous about the fording. We stopped, uncertain. Now, I wanted to get across because I knew I had a pack stashed that had a lovely sleeping pad and sleeping bag waiting for me. But I could drive them across without a good reason, and it was getting darker, so I didn't think the boys would make their plane anyway. But then someone appeared on the opposite shore. He said that his group had forded by linking arms and walking across. "We've made it this far! We can do that!" He agreed to catch our packs, so we tossed our bags, one by one to him, then linked arms and headed in. It wasn't easy, but we kept each other anchored and made it across. Victorious!

The boys were talking about heading on, but it was only a half hour to dark and I soon learned they only had one headlamp between them. Eventually we convinced them to stay and pitched camp together. We build another fire of wet wood, cooked some food and shared our reserve stores with each other. Lots of victorious joy and laughter to be had. I woke in the middle of the night and stoked up the fire. The rest of the people were leaving at dawn to head out, but i was going to stay, rest, repack and take a slow meandering way, cause I had no where particular to be. But I still woke with them at dawn and restoked the fire for everyone and wished them well on their hike out.

Then, alone, I broke camp slowly, gathered up my stuff, repacked, ate some food and headed out myself. It was pretty clear and very warm, and I set a steady pace, once again burdened, but handling it well, even with my broken backpack. Soon it began to rain lightly but that caused some beautiful rainbows and double rainbows and soon I was singing with my enjoyment of how beautiful everything was. There were great friggate birds flying the drafts below me and the color of the ocean was wonderful with the rainbows arching over it. I hiked along happily... until it started pouring again. But I kept going, determined just to be done with this damn hike already. I thought if there was good shelter at 2 mile I might stop there... but there wasn't So I had to forget the next river, with some help from a day-hiker, and kept on the difficult up and downs and around between the start and two mile. At this point I really just wanted to be done with it and pushed on steadily. Taking breaks often cause my pack was getting water soaked and thus heavier. Stopping around 1 mile to fix my headphones, I suddenly felt like there was someone behind me, looking at me. I turned around and, sure enough, there was Andre, one of the musicians from Halloween. We hiked out the rest of the way together and he managed to find us a ride and invited me back to his place for the night. We were both soaked, exhausted and craving warm and dry of some sort. He also had a friend who could probably drive us to a laundrymat.

Sleeping in a bed was a luxurious experience. The next day we went to do laundry and he and his housemate dropped me off at a hostel where I could get the hot shower I needed so desperately and get to the airport the next day for my flight to visit Ruth Chang, an old family friend of the Chapmans, in Oahu for a couple days... That should have been one of my most luxurious and relaxing nights... instead it became another in a long line of insomnia... this time from pain. I was kept awake by a terrible toothache that no amount of chomping on Ibuprofen could relieve. Before I left in the morning I had an appointment for a dentist the next day (saturday) after I landed in Oahu.

Ruth met me at the plane and we became fast friends. She is a wonderful lady. I had a room in the height of luxury in an attached apartment in her house. But by that time I was in some amazing agony and it was pretty obvious. She drove me to my appointment where i got the glorious new that I needed a root canal... I was supposed to fly out in two days. And it was a weekend, no one was open or available to do it.

Long story short, after hours of battle on the phone by my glorious mother, some fantastic generosity on Ruth's part and a lot of waiting, dealing with pain, codine, sickness, and desperate phone calls, I managed to get an emergency appointment on monday, get my flight delayed for a week and have a place to stay with my glorious host. And, I got to spend an extra week in Hawaii... besides miserable pain and a HUGE dent in my trip funding, I have no complaints. The following tuesday, the 17th, I got on the airplane destined for Narita.

FAREWELL PARADISE!!

Kalalau's Beauty

I thought that once I was in Kalalau, after a day or so of rest I would have the energy and such to go adventuring all over the valley.

What I discovered was that after a day or so of rest, my feet still hated me and my body was sore and tired and not looking forward to the long trek out. Trying to be prepared for everything that might come on this journey and keeping the stuff severely limited, means I was not ready for this trek. My shoes are years old, need to thrown away. The backs are breaking, the soles have almost no tread left and so on. I had amazing blisters on my toes and heels. My backpack was too small and designed for bike riding, not for hiking. And, I was now sleeping on the ground with just my cloak. I rested. I wandered around Kalalau a bit, but mostly along the beach and out to the river, not high up the valley.

That said, I still saw some amazing things, just sitting on the beach. Kalalau is beautiful, especially during the transitory periods of dusk and dawn. In my little nest in the woods, I could step out the back and watch as the sun slowly came lancing through the sharp peaks. The far wall of the mountains would begin to glow and the sun would make it's way up over the mountains. Sunset was extraordinary. I cannot even begin to describe the playing of the light over the waves, catching in the ocean spray, the way the clouds became fire, the great open sky over the ocean.

Halloween was grand. I am incredibly happy that I chose to have Samhain out in that magic place. Basically everyone gathered together, bringing tidbits of food to share including the "great pumpkin" made from granola, oatmeal, chocolate sauce, bananas, peanuts... it was delicious. Cheese, crackers, lillokoi... and all the locals and visitors spent time singing together and telling stories and jumping around. There was a huge ring that formed around the moon and the moonlight was surprisingly bright. It was a lot of fun. The people there seemed like a part of my extended family, the sorts of people I was raised around.

The moonlight on and around the full moon there was so bright I could have read by it. One night I saw a rainbow cast by moonlight. It looked like the ghost of a rainbow, all colors muted and silvery.

And the last sunset I saw there was probably the most beautiful and awesomely powerful sunset that I have and probably ever will see.

Kalalau Trail Heading In

Kalalau. Kalalau. How can I even begin to describe it?
Kalalau has captured my heart and spirit and rejuvenated me as nothing yet has. The images from there, the memories. It's hard to say... something about it holds a deep and powerful magic. It's nothing specific. Enchantingly beautiful, yes, but still Earth in all of it's growth and decay.

The trail head is at a beach called Ke'e, where the picture of the monk seal, below is from. After storing much of my stuff at Lotus Farms, where I had been working, I began hitching down to Ke'e with my pack. My pack was heavy, I was already struggling to lift it and throw it into the back of people's trucks and so on. That worried me. But there wasn't much I could do, I had already left the rest of my stuff behind and I wanted to get started. So I hefted the pack time and time again and tried to put my nervousness out of my mind.
There was another thing causing me nervousness, especially as starting early became starting around three or four in the afternoon... That was that I hadn't gotten the proper permits needed to legally be hiking and camping in Kalalau. The permits were only available near the airport in Lihue and it was too far for me to hitch to and back in time to be able to hike the trail. So I had to duck my head and hope.

I started the journey. The Kalalau trail is 11 miles long. I was carrying my bedding, a tent, my cloak, some clothes, two sarongs, my hat, a book and some other stuff, and food that didn't need to be cooked - enough for a week. I had my little red adventure backpack from wingnut bags, the compression bag and my chicos bag. By the end of this story one of these bags will have been badly damaged. One will have been abandoned and reclaimed and one will have been thrown away for good.

The first part of the trail is uphill, basically straight for about a half mile. It's also very rocky. I started up, my legs and lungs immediately complaining. And almost the first person I met was a ranger. She stopped in front of me and asked me where I was going. I said a few miles in. She said there wasn't a camp ground there and I'd have to go back to camp along the coast. I nodded and she left. I waited for a bit until she was down the trail a bit and then bolted up the trail as fast as I could (which wasn't very fast at all). Eventually I settled into a slow but steady pace, but I nervously checked behind me and in front of me often in case there were other rangers. I settled on rocks looking like I was going down not up when people passed me, just in case. I thought about stashing my bags in the woods and just taking a little pack to look like I was going just a little way up. I stopped often anyway just to breathe. The trail is a tricky single track winding up and down hugging the mountains, a few hundred feet up from the ocean. So often there's a dramatic drop along one side. It was somewhere on this first two mile stretch that I realized that walking 11 miles out to a beach meant that at least half the enchantment lay in the journey, not the destination, because this was brutal. The sights were beautiful, the mountains and valleys were covered with rich green forests with no sign of man except the rough trail wending it's way around the side of the hills, traversing crookedly up and down.

It was an exhausting two miles. I was very relieved to cross the river to Hanakapiai. I was still pretty nervous about being caught, but I knew I wasn't going to make it to center camp, 6 mile, tonight. The sun was already threatening to set. I wandered over the boulders by the beach and hid my bags behind a tree. I went down and looked at the beach, ate a little of my food and then decided to hike up to see Hanakapiai Falls and try to get there before dark. I had my flashlight and some other stuff and set off at a quick pace. This trail wound back and forth, went through bamboo groves and generally followed the river up the long valley. And I do mean Long. I don't think I realized how long it was going to be, but I figured that I could always turn back if it seemed to far. Yet, once you step on a path, it's really hard to turn around. At times, when the trail permitted, I ran. At the top of the path, I could hear the falls, but it was pretty dark at that point. I hadn't seen anyone on the trail when suddenly a light came on and I heard two people talking. (There were several points where I thought I'd stop and maybe just sleep on the trail instead of heading back... but somehow I kept going). I froze and melted into the shadows and waited for them, and accidentally scared them quite badly. But they were awesome brave souls and asked me what I was doing there and if I needed any help or anything. That's how I met Jarret and Jessica. An awesome pair of hikers also from the New York area. They also asked if i was going to sleep up here at the falls. I said I was, cause I didn't want to turn around at that point. And so I did...

I came out of the trees and found the waterfall. Probably the most spectacular waterfall I have ever seen. The water plummeted from between a sharp dip in the mountains into a huge deep pool at it's base. I wanted to go swim out under it but i was worried about the dark and the chill. I hadn't even brought a sarong with me. There were rocks and ferns all around and I crawled into the ferns determined to fall asleep. The stars appeared, a beautiful tapestry. I created a little bed for myself in the ferns and curled up, listening to the great falls and watching the stars.
It was here that I mourned the loss of Bliss... my beautiful golden kitten.
It was a very long and very hard night, without much sleep. I pulled some ferns and other jungle plant life and layered it over me to provide some shelter from the chill. It wasn't very cold but it was a bit chilly and several times it even rained. The leaves provided some shelter from the rain, and I passed the night acceptably, just not restfully.

In the morning I bowed good bye to the beautiful waterfall and turned and made a quick way down the two mile path back to my pack and the rest of the Kalalau trail. I really hoped my pack hadn't been washed away by the ocean or found by the rangers. When I found it, it was fine, but some of my food was infested with ants and some had been eaten completely by rats. I figured I still had enough, lifted my heavy pack to my back and began my journey again. It was a little cloudy, but good hiking conditions since it was still dry and the clouds kept the heat at bay. I went slow, rested often, drank most of my water, and carried on. Jarret and Jessica and I passed one another often. We chatted a bit and smiled when this happened. They eventually got ahead of me and I didn't see them for awhile. Around about early to mid afternoon, I finished up the four miles to half way camp, Hanakoa. Jarret and Jessica were there having lunch in the shelter and I thought it a splendid idea, so I joined them. Soon a family, Grandfather, Son and wife, and two kids joined us. It was pleasant company, though I kept to myself as is my tendency, especially after not having much communication with people over the last month. My communication with others had included and consisted entirely of conversations with my boss and his wife, my roommate (though these became fewer and fewer as the month progressed), the neighbor (probably talked less than a handful of times in reality), and the woman... Brianna, who I saved who had gotten her car stuck on the way out of Quarry Beach. Quarry Beach road was a road that bore a similar resemblance to a road as Kalalau did to a sidewalk... but somehow I managed to get the car unstuck and drove her up to the top of the hill - but that's another story. So the group of us hung out in this shelter. I was debating staying at half way when the weather decided it for me. The skies opened up and it began to pour. Jarret and Jessica packed up immediately and headed out while the rest of us lingered uncertain. Rumor was that there was a seriously tricky patch ahead that would be really iffy in the rain. I decided against traveling on, pulled out my book and settled into the idea of waiting for tomorrow, hoping that tomorrow it would clear. We made a fire in the shelter and it was a very pleasant evening all in all. I found a great little hidden campsite that had a good chance of being completely passed by if the rangers were out looking to bust someone. It was around then that I decided I absolutely would and could not continue to carry the weight that I was. I went to sleep, warm and dry and happy to be in a tent as opposed to out under a waterfall.

The next day was bright and clear. The family had gone on, or back, I never ran into them again. I broke camp and repacked. Over half my clothes and almost all my sleeping gear besides my tent and cloak got stuffed into the compression bag. Any excess books, notebooks and so on also got left behind. I wrapped the compression bag in a garbage bag and hiked it way back into the woods and hid it between two rocks and under some ferns, praying it would be safe until I could retrieve it on my way back. Then I repacked my remaining stuff and set off again, much lighter this time. Hanakoa is situated in a nice little valley next to a large river. The river is easy enough to cross by jumping boulder to boulder (not the easiest task with a heavy backpack on). this river is really wide at the crossing and has something of an island in the middle of it.

I started the last five miles feeling refreshed and at least a little lighter. It was still a hard hike but I had to rest less often, though I still rested quite often. Before 8 mile, I found the treacherous patch that the people had been talking about the day before. 7 mile. A patch of switchbacks that is pretty loose and definitely nerve-wracking. I slipped a few times and had to catch myself. It's no gentle grade down to the ocean and would be rough and frightening to fall down. Probably deadly as well... as would be many falls off the kalalau trail. The switchbacks led to a very exposed path along the edge of a rock face.

Everyone on the trail that knows it tells you of Bill, the man who lives at 8 mile. There's also an unofficial camping area with him at 8 mile. On the hike, dragonflies danced around every now and then. And there were strange ground fowl that went screeching off into the underbrush. I eventually got to 8 mile and saw a naked man bathing in a stream. Then I met Bill, a tall thin man carrying a machete. He passed me and asked about the naked man and I told him all I could, he was bathing in the stream and went on ahead. I found Bill waiting for me not far up the trail and he said he would escort me for a mile or so to make sure nothing happened to me. I accepted easily, though I hadn't really felt any sort of threat from the naked man. Bill thought he was probably harmless as well, but he wanted to make sure. After about a mile, he turned back and I went on alone again. This part of the trail had a lot less coverage, and with the sun it was hot and tiring. I kept an easy pace, filled my water bottle in the fast moving streams and kept going, step by step.

The first realization that I was close was the Kalalau Valley sign. I had arrived. Stepping through the last of the cover I got to see the kalalau valley for the first time. A beautiful wide open valley with majestic mountains all around and the ocean crashing against the rocks. A long dusty path led down to the valley, an almost desert like stretch. There were goats running over it here. I wandered down the path and made it to the valley floor and followed the trail into the woods. Here paths began branching off. I followed some of them and got lost and had to back track. Eventually I followed the main one and managed to fall in the river at the river crossing. But I kept on. I thought about camping closer to this side... but I wanted to look everywhere and so I kept on. It's about a mile from the sign down to the end of the beach. The beach and mountains were picturesque as everything, but so is all of Kauai. I found myself wondering if it was worth the trek. I found Jarrett and Jessica setting up their camp and we greeted each other enthusiastically. I wandered down to the end of the trail and stood looking at the majestic powerful surf... knowing there would be no swimming in this ocean for me. That ocean is deadly and strong.

I eventually discovered a sweet little campsite hidden in the bushes with two trees covering it. Perfect for me and my small tent and right next to my traveling friends. I set up camp, changed out of my traveling clothes and immediately explored out to the waterfall, down to the beach and finally back to my camp for a well deserved break and some lunch.

That's how I came to Kalalau, the night before Halloween.

Irreplaceable Travel Items

1. Sarong (Towel mark 2)

If you don't understand this, read the Hitchhikers Guide bit on Towels. It explains all the important uses for towels and why you should always know where yours is. The great new advancement in towel technology is the sarong. The sarong dries two to five times faster than a normal towel but holds all the same necessary weapon principals while wet. It is also much larger than your average towel and hurts quite a bit more when wound tightly.
The sarong can be worn better than a towel and avoids all those embarassing necessary explanations as to why you are currently wearing a towel instead clothes. Sarongs were made for clothing and can be appropriately worn fashionably by both men and women.
They are supperior blankets, breathing better and staying warmer than your average towel. They also make great protection from the sun or dust when wrapped around the head and over the shoulders.
They also have a nice, fancy fringe and drape beautifully as a cape or a scarf.

2. Cloak

A cloak is a superior travelling item. It has made itself useful time and time again. Basically a cloak is a portable blanket with a clasp so it can be conveniently worn. This allows it to be both blanket and coat. The hood and length of a cloak keep out most of the worst elements including sun, rain and snow. When sleeping somewhere it can be used as a sleeping bag, being large enough to be ground cloth and blanket. AND! when in an obnoxiously lit place, the hood can be pulled over your head to shut out the light.
Because of the size, it can be used as a tent. Be wrapped around things to create a convenient carrying bag and so on. They also are an instant costume piece, should such a thing become necessary at any time.
Cloaks are definitely worth carrying!

Amber

I caught a look of myself in the mirror yesterday, after a long long journey down to the end of the road. The main road ends at a beach like every side road.
I looked at myself in the mirror and saw how much darker my skin has become, and my hair lightens to meet it in the middle somewhere, so that I begin to glow amber. My hair was windblown from riding in the back of a pickup that I hitched a lift with but my eyes still dark, amber within and cycling through green to a dark ring of blue. Yes, I look like I've been in paradise now. I look like a Hawaii sun child.
I've decorated my hat with feathers and flowers and walk around as ever with a sarong draped around my shoulders. I play with my contact-ball and dance along the road, getting smiles and rides from locals and visitors.
I went to the end of the road and saw the start of the trail that will be my celebration and time of deep introspection before I leave. So forgive that I will be well out of touch for a week or more... but I will be hiking a long trail, alone, and enjoying ever moment of it.
Afterwhich I am Japan bound, probably sometime in early November. And after that, who knows?

My cousin Adrian is staying in Japan teaching English until January and when his contract is up he wants to travel also. I'll go there and spend the holidays with him and then decide which direction I'm flying. And where to go next. Any suggestions?

The stars are quite beautiful here.

Dancing in the Rain

So... the post is titled that because I have literally been dancing in the rain today. I walked out three miles for an informal job interview - a job which I got on a macadamia farm and gardening - and it was raining and I just didn't want to put on my raincoat because it was really rather nice. Then on the way back I was listening to music and inspired to dance. So I did. Much to the amusement of the cars passing who honked and cheered me on.
If you can't tell, Hawaii is amazing. I'm in Kauai which is a beautiful island without many people or much development. The beaches and landscape is breathtaking. The waves are somewhat intimidating but there's a glorious beach where the ocean is calm enough to play safely. The water is warm and lovely. Everything is lush and rich. The mountains are beautiful. And yes... I plan on leaving in a month for wintery Japan. But life is glorious for now. And will continue to be as the journey continues. I am going to have to run soon because my battery is running out. But first directions to my house if anyone wants to show up!

First head from the place you land north towards the land where Puff that dragon lives. But if you see that magic dragon you know you've gone too far. Before that place you should see a crossroad sign tho the crossroad could only have been imagined by Dali. But take that right anyhow and go to see the stone house that calls for sun worship and across from that, take the road. That road will lead you down, ocean bound, but on the way you'll spot Merlin. Say hi to him, for beware dismissing such a powerful being. Left beyond him and to the T where one way leads to a dead end and the other to me.
Then it's a little blue and green house on the right. A step through the garage and there you are.
If you reach the road beyond then you've gone too far!

The last of the Colorado ramblings

Colorado has been wonderful to visit again. Also seeing college friends and old friends is wonderful. Linnaea and I have been having many glorious adventures and for the past week have stayed in luxury house sitting. Complete with spiral stair case and a hot tub.
We went to Red Rocks the other day - one of the many strange places that I learned to walk. It's a glorious amphitheater. We also explored Rocky Mountain National Park, Boulder, Denver and so on. It has been relaxing and good for me to spend this time thinking and planning.
But this is the last of the Colorado ramblings... On Monday the plan is to fly to Hawaii. I'm not sure what I'll be doing or where I'll be going but it's exciting to be looking to the horizon again.

... I'll write things when I'm actually inspired to.



Oh, and there are images now!

Burning Man

Well burning man - how can I describe burning man. I have - thusfar - described it to entice whomever I was speaking but also to give clear warning of the realities of burning man. The realities are that it's in the middle of an old lakebed and is dry and alkaline so it basically eats your skin and sucks the moisture from your body. It's a stunningly beautiful location. Beautiful mountains all around. The sun sets and the moon rises, the moon sets and the sun rises. Amazing. But there is a dust factor. A dust factor that will drive you mad at some point. I was told that everyone has burning man freak outs. About three is a good average.
I'm not sure I freaked out about the dust. But there were definitely times that I spent laughing maniacally about it. Lost in late night punchy humor about it. And thoroughly impressed by how it managed to coat EVERYTHING. I think if there was a freakout on my part about it - it was definitely afterwards when I was trying to wash it off and convince my lips to stop being cracked. The dust creates white outs so you can't see ten feet in front of you. You need GOOD goggles and a good face mask. I wore a sarong wrapped around my head and often would put it over my mouth when the wind began to blow. OH - but I have some amazing pictures shot at night with a flash that show how extreme the dust really is. When the flash went it looks like I'm taking a picture in a blizzard but during that time there wasn't enough dust for me to be wearing my mask. You need to drink lots of water and keep food handy to keep your energy and emotions stable.
It's the desert, it will mess with you.
The other realities are that you could die. This is an awesome fun festival, but no one is really watching out for you. You have to be responsible for your actions. And there are lots of fun things to free climb and lots of fun things to imbibe. Those things do not go together.

Ok those realities aside. I don't think I've ever seen such a collection of wonderfully sweet and creative people. Everyone was nice. Nicer than rainbow people. It feels very safe. I never felt like I needed to go around with an escort or have friends within sight. I never felt threatened at all and felt quite comfortable with most everyone I ran across. Then there's the psycho creativity factor. The art that's made is really spectacular. Free standing sculptures that have to face wind and elements, people touching or climbing on them etc. And the art cars were probably the most incredible... everything from electric vehicles, purple people eaters, giant predator cars with gunturrets that had mounted flame throwers, to bicycle eyes, and the aluminum dragon bike that was kinetic, moved it's head, lifted it and breathed fire. There was lots of fire. And lots of talent. From juggling, acrobatics, contact, aerials, capoeira, sculpture... to massage, chiropractors, body painting... even people with airplanes. It was pretty incredible. And among the most incredible was the temple - built of individually carved sheets of ply and planks, this thing looked like a lotus, was three floors tall and was built to be burned. In it, on it, everyone wrote their thoughts and prayers, left their memories and pain, and on the last night, it went up in flames. Impermanence. Really a beautiful thing.

Burning man- where the brilliant get to have fun and show off. The tender hearted have a place to be open and feel safe. The free spirits get to run and play. The pyros get to burn everything they wish. The artist get to freely express.

It's worth trying, at least once... it's one of the real experiences to be have of our age, and who knows how long it will really last.

Colorado Wanderings - Post Nevada - PreNew Mexico: Really From Salt to Sand and by Sand I mean DUST

So.... I haven't been on this for awhile. Not for lack of internet but for lack of it letting me upload my pictures... the bugger. So, while I have lots of pictures to share I'll have to upload them at some point to some net server and then post links or something. None of which will happen here, cause while I have regular internet - uploading things is apparently not an option. C'est la.

There are more adventures recently then I can decently recount in one sitting but I will do my best to begin or create an acceptable overview.

So from Andy, dad and I borrowed a bunch of stuff including his nice BMW wagon to go adventuring in. We drove from Salt Lake City to Bonneville for Speed Week. Bonneville salt flats is where they set the land speed records and it just happened that they were having speed week while we were driving by and that it was very much en-route. So we decided to stop and check it out. We basically took this little road out into the whiteness of the flats until the road ended and then parked and hitched a ride out into the salt. (We were warned not to bring our car out there unless we wanted to deal with the salt for a long time.)

The Salt is rather amazing. It's huge - flat - and somewhat reflective. And creates waves like heat waves but is cool to the touch. It's also very sticky. It will basically adhere to anything and then cake worse than dense snow. Needless to say - I subjected my feet to it to see what would happen. It began to feel rather odd after not long and I put my shoes back on. They were running motorcycles the day we went and we got to see the vehicle that holds the record and it's driver. 360mph. Personally I don't think I'd want to go that fast in a funny long pod. We saw a few runs from some motorcycles - but forgot to have our opera glasses with us to actually see that well. Ultimately it's really just a bike or pod going fast as it can in a line. What's really crazy is seeing how they're built and what people do to make these things go fast. There were some pretty amazing vehicles including electric ones.
Again, a picture is worth a thousand words. I'll try to get there at some point.

So we spent a couple hours there then hitched a ride back out - amusingly with the exact same people we hitched a ride in with.

Heading back towards the burn - the number of burners on the road began to become rather numerous and obvious. It was a fun train passing people, getting passed by people, waving to people acknowledging that we were all heading toward the same destination. I haven't been in a caravan like that in a long time.

We camped under a gorgeous tapestry of stars in some Nevada rest stop and were off again soon after dawn.

I'll continue this post in a bit but right now I have to marvel at the fact that I'm sitting in Evergreen Colorado in late September and this is the second day of snow that we've had. Considering my bold concept that the next leg of the journey will happen on foot or net hitch-hiking... I think I need to head out pretty soon.

Utah!

So the journey to Utah was only eventful in the fact that we got on the plane with NO time to spare. I was gripped the entire drive up to Albany airport and I admit to speeding a bit... But we weren't caught and managed to hop on the plane in the nick of time. My dad and I have been hanging out with our old friend Andy who lives in Salt Lake City, has a dizzy Izzy dog and heads the apes department at the Zoo here.
We've been taking a restful couple of days, just puttering around and organizing things before the next step, which is to head to the burn tomorrow. Burning man is in Black Rock Desert, Nevada. We're going to take a leisurely couple of days to drive out there, hopefully stopping at Bonneville Utah, also known as the salt flats, where it's speed week all week! Speed week is where they run the land speed trials and so on. So hopefully we'll get to see a little of that before continuing out to Nevada.
I've been working hard at finishing up things - mostly transcribing my hand written papers so I can send them back with my dad when he leaves. My computers, Sigyn and Scoll are coming in very useful and already I'm using them both everyday... makes me feel somewhat justified in carrying two computers with me. However, I'm trying to glean down more. I'm carrying three medium sized packs with me on this journey. One for my bedding and toiletries, one for clothes, shoes, camp eating set - bowl, fork, knife spoon, chopsticks, cup, a couple books, and one for my technology and extras.
It's exciting to have left the house but I'm already having separation anxiety. I keep thinking about things left undone, things left behind, things I still wanted to do. I'm trying just to breathe with it and look to that western horizon. Just another step and another... the world turns gently beneath my feet, or is it I that turns the world?

Today we went to the zoo with Andy because he wanted to check on the new baby monkey. It was hard to see that baby but we did get a sneak peak at the baby elephant who was having a riotous good time wallowing in the mud. We also saw a baby giraffe, tiger and snow leopard cubs, and little orangutans. There was a cheetah chasing magpies and a fantastic bird show, which I got some great pictures of. I'll load pictures when I can.

So step one complete.

Step Two: Leave here and head for Nevada and see Bonneville.

Step Three: The burn starts on Monday. Get through the gate and enter the desert for the next week.

Tabidachi

The Journey begins. Tomorrow at five I'll be on a plane bound for Salt Lake City. Love to all.