Our planned trip to summit the largest active volcano on Earth was scuttled due to lack of permits, so we just decided to explore some spots on the youngest island in the Hawaiian archipelago. No sense wasting a perfectly good three day weekend.

Our flight landed on the Keahole Point runway that was built on the 1801 lava flow and met up with Roger and picked up our Turo Jeep. Brunch was at the Japanese restaurant built in 1957 and consisted of American breakfast fare as lunch time was so close but yet so far.

We briefly stopped at Roger’s house and then drove down his neighborhood to start our coastal hike. Why walk when you can drive?

Roger and Aida using the stepping stones over the chunky and crunchy ‘a’a lava. Ow! Ow!

Mari passing through a stand of trees that offered the only shade on the trail.

Ferlino hanging off a tree. A force of habit.

Approaching the wave weathered rock formation that will eventually erode and allow the coastline to migrate inland.

The power of the ocean as demonstrated by the high surf crashing against the rocks which continuously change the character of the coastline.

Looking out towards one of numerous sea arches that populate the shoreline.

Perched on top of the rocks as the ocean waters churned all around us.

Can you see Roger for the waves?

Decisions. Decisions. Decisions. Do I want to be on the six o’clock news? Where is the nearest lifeguard station? How are the medical facilities on this island? Prudence was the better part of valor in this case of rough waters and lack of strong swimming skills.

Ferlino demonstrating the safer practice of hanging over terra firma.

Drone view of cable rock towards the group. Roger stated that an enterprising local strung up this cable wire during the height of Covid to secure his own fishing spot.

Walking over the different textures of pahoehoe lava.

Our search for the lava tube that descended vertically into the sea was called off due to lack of time.

Does Pele’s Curse apply to goat skulls?

I left my heart in Captain Cook or more accurately Kealakekua Bay.

On the way back, high surf completely drenched a particular Galaxy Phone and her owner. Electronic devices and seawater do not mix well.

Keeping out of the surf zone. I have an iPhone.

Following the trail back to our cars and dry clothes for some.

The hotel has been closed as of 2023, but the restaurant is still open for business. The food and settings appear to have been frozen in time since the 1940s. Of course we had to sample their famous pork chops. Comfort food.

Eating our dinner in the no-frills, rustic and old school eatery that won the 2023 James Beard Foundation America’s Classics Award, which has been described as the “Oscars” of the food industry.

Group photo in the longest continually running restaurant in Hawaii. We retired to Roger’s house to play the card game of Shithead. The former winner declined to play and the host was declared the winner that night.

Day 2

The next day, we had Chicken Papaya for breakfast that Ferlino had prepared the night before. Salamat. We then made the trip to Hilo which takes roughly two hours, on the way we stopped at the Southern most bakery in the US to sample the best malasadas according to somebody. I think she’s all wet. Oh wait, that was yesterday. It was actually ono (delicious).

Chowing down our bakery breakfast before continuing the relatively long drive to Hilo.

We picked up Scotty and rolled into what is billed as Hawaii’s largest privately accessible waterfall. Mahalo to Scott for the suggestion to check out this place. They don’t take walkups as one might be trampled by the hordes beating a path to their door so to speak. Staff gave us a short briefing and initially I thought this is what we paid a Benjamin for?

Two trails diverged in a bamboo forest,
And happy we could travel both
And looked down as far as we could
To where water flowed in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and a waterfall;
Though as for that the passing there
I doubted if we should ever come back.

Making our way clockwise on the loop trail as we descended down towards Waiau Stream.

Rearranged the furniture for our group shot from the pavilion.

The landscape of the place has a strong Asian-inspired feel to the 22-acre property.

In search of that “hot tub” that Scotty had pointed out earlier.

I think somebody and their phone are marked safe from any “splashing” today.

Scrambling downstream where I ran across multiple rappelling anchors bolted into the rocks. Optional activity that was not considered by the group due to lack of interest, time and cost.

So close, yet so far. I didn’t want to pull an “Aida” and decided to stay put and dry.

We explored a little more downstream to discover triple waterfalls.

Flying Filipino on the rocks. Shaken, not stirred.

We followed the trail to the main falls where others were engaged in the optional activities offered for a price.

Group photo in front of the recorded 120′ falls. Some would dispute that number.

Keeping the social distance of 20′ away from the falls where the height of the falls became less disputable.

Making our way back to our cars which ended our “exhausting” less than a mile loop trail and dropped Scotty off at the airport to catch his flight back home.

We had pho at Van’s Vietnamese Cuisine, visited the local Baskin Robbins, picked up an apple pie from the local supermarket that we never ate, sampled free cookies and coffee and even had time to clean the eco-system that was growing in the gutters.

Is that Episode 41? Hoping against hope. Come back next weekend.

We had a roughly one hour wait at the bustling building that has been around since 1941, but has its roots going back to 1846. Our dinner was pepperoni and wild mushroom pizza which was gobbled down in short order as Aida had to catch her flight back.

Driving back to Kona on the inky blacktop, we were surprised by the Blue Light Special. The police gave us a marked down speeding ticket. Not quite the sale we had been hoping for. Nobody was in the mood to play another card game of Shithead. So we all hit the sack.

Day 3

We arrived at the trailhead of the many furrowed hill while staying under the speed limit on our last day in Kona.

Why did the sheep cross the road? The sheep identifies as chickens, if it works for humans, why not domesticated ruminants?

Approaching the jello mold hill as we soon traded the paved road for a jeep road.

Passing an abandoned structure, multiple guesses were tossed out as to the original use of the building.

Slowly gaining elevation on the hill.

Border control. No whistling allowed.

Dung beetle hard at work rolling cow shit into a ball to be buried for food storage which also plays a part in soil nutrition and seed dispersal. They are also quite strong as they can pull over 1,100 times their own body weight, which is the equivalent of an average person pulling four loaded city buses.

Cresting over the 4×4 road that are used by ranchers and students planting native plants and trees.

Approaching the steep section. Where?

Looking back at the now steep section. Perspective.

The cows had the right idea as they were sheltering for shade.

Ferlino approaching the summit.

Group photo at the 3,956′ top of the 100,000 year old cinder cone.

Drone views.

Looking out towards Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa.

Descending off the cinder cone that sits on the North slope of Hualalai, the third highest peak on the island. Next on my list.

Looping back on the trail.

All downhill from here.

“Pulling” the cinder cone towards us. If only it was that easy.

Hop, skip and a jump and we were back to our car.

Our hike covered 6.68 miles with an elevation gain of 1,864′ and 3 hours and 26 minutes of hiking time.

We stopped to get our bag of the Kona version of Maui style chips and had a late lunch at the restaurant housed in a building that dates back to the 1930s. Looks like it.

Enjoying our panoramic views of the Kona coast and the natural air conditioning afforded by the missing window pane.

We caught the sunset on the way to the airport to catch our flight back home and got upgraded to exit row seats as we all needed the extra legroom for our extremely long limbs. Many thanks to Roger for hosting us at his house, Ferlino and Roger for driving all over the island and everybody for the fun company. MLK weekend well spent.

Photos taken by Aida Gordon, Ferlino Carinio, Mari Saito, Robin Farr, Roger Schiffman, Scott Dea, and yours truly. Not necessarily in order.

Note: I have been made aware that some hikers have been using my blog as a hiking guide and getting lost on the trails. Please note that this blog was made to document the hike for the crew(s) that did it. That is why some of my comments will seem to have no relevance or meaning to anybody outside of the crew(s) that hiked that trail. My blog was never meant as a hiking guide, so please do not treat it as such. If you find inspiration and entertainment from these hikes, that is more than enough. If you plan on replicating these hikes, do so in the knowledge that you should do your own research accordingly as trail conditions, access, legalities and so forth are constantly in flux. What was current today is most likely yesterdays news. Please be prepared to accept any risks and responsibilities on your own as you should know your own limitations, experience and abilities before you even set foot on a trail, as even the “simplest” or “easiest” of trails can present potential pitfalls for even the most “experienced” hikers. One should also always let somebody know of your hiking plans in case something doesn’t go as planned, better safe than sorry.

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