Our first bit of photographic touring was the active volcano. Two years ago, we were stopped in our hairy adventures on Hawaii's lava fields by the shutdown of the Federal Government (thus closing the park). I guess it was lack of brains. Somehow we as a nation survived. A lesson? Perhaps. Anyway, at that time, we decided to go all the way to the southern tip of the island, where lava flow had destroyed towns and the famed Black Sand Beach (now known as the Hot Black Rock Beach That Might Just Suddenly Collapse and Wax Your Sorry Ass).
We couldn't make it very far over the rocks then because we had started way too late in the day and a certain dimwit (I take the Fifth!) left all the water in the rental car.
So this time, with a few more hours ahead of us and a bit of water, we were determined to endanger our lives. Also, the Park was open, so we started there. Some links to other sites about the Park are The Big Island site and of course Volcanoes National Park. Now that I read The Hazards of Viewing Lava, I realize that we've pretty much broken all the rules. Oh well.
From the Volcano House is visible the actual crater of Kilauea.
The Volcano House has been around since the late 1800's and has sheltered such luminaries as Mark Twain. They've got photographs and journal entries from various times.
Katrina says they used to have a display of letters from people saying "Hey, I took a rock and I want to send it back because I've had terrible luck", but we could find no such display. You see, it's considered very bad luck to remove lava from Hawaii. The rule I try to follow -- don't piss off the local deities and in this case, it's Madame Pele.
We weren't there at night, but I can only imagine how cool this would be to see at night while you're eating dinner. No "Volcanoburger" on the menu, however, as at Mt. St. Helens.
Before descending into the pits of hell, we decided to try the wimpy things first. On the left, we're about to descend into the Thurston Lava Tube, a couple hundred feet of wet rocky tube. It's very tame. Lights have been installed and the flooring is packed gravel. At the end of the really tame part was a not-so tame part, another three hundred feet of wild dark tunnels. Did we bring flashlights so we could explore such a place? Nope. Is this the last time today we wished we had brought flashlights? Nope again.
After emerging from the lava tube, we wandered around the rainforest a bit. Here's Katrina and Leopoldo on the right. If it weren't for me keeping a patter going, I'd swear all these pictures would look like funeral auditions. This area is pretty fertile, so all kinds of wild things grow here and hardly any of it has been paved over! One must understand that the big island is the newest island and as such isn't overgrowing with wild things, as are the older islands such as Kauai.
A bit more driving down the Chain of Craters road and here we stopped at an observation point. It's an odd observation point, because really, the only thing you could observe was an endless field of lava in all directions. It actually is pretty alien. I tried to get a stereo picture of it to post here, but it didn't come out, so instead you get to see me Vogue-ing on a rock. Unfortunately, the picture didn't come out terribly well (Katrina took it, but I picked the angle, so it's my fault), but anyone willing to buy me a ticket back can have any picture they like. It's way cool there.
On the right, proof that we were there! The picture was taken by a very nice woman who was very cute. Had I been driving the car, we wouldn't have lost them, but Leopoldo was driving and he doesn't drive like the aggressive maniac that I do, so we never really got another chance to talk with her or her companions. Another lost opportunity. Sigh. This picture also features my favorite hat. I love this hat. Check out my hat.
On the other side of the lava flow (opposite end this time), you can see pretty well that the roads close once lava gets on them. Well, I figured it was obvious. I mean, there's fifteen feet of rock there. Isn't a "Road Closed" sign kind of, oh, redundant? In the big picture, one can clearly see that anyone requiring a "Road Closed" sign is in more trouble than we thought. Katrina and two other foolhardy folks here, to provide Human Interest.
Someone had come in and dumped a road with soccer-ball-sized rocks, so anyone who had rented a halftrack could easily travel across that section of the lava without spilling too much of their coffee. Weirdly, people tried taking their rental cars across the stuff. Man, talk about dumb! Every time there was a smooth patch, sure enough, a rental car was there, where its renters had simply abandoned it. My guess is that most people are able to get their cars off the road by nightfall, but I'm sure there has to be a couple of folks who couldn't and had to call someone. But then I wonder -- what would the rental agency do? Send out a tow truck? No way, man. I don't even want to know what happens to these hapless folks...
Those of us who were nuts enough to trek over the halftrack road eventually were rewarded with this sign on the right, perched at the end of the line. Naturally, lava field continued well past this point, but it seems that the Hawaiian government wanted to make real damn sure you understood that once you went beyond here, not even a waiver will protect you. It's molten rock, folks, and it's hot and fast. How exciting.
"Leave area at once if acid mist clouds are present." pretty much says it all. Yup.
This is a section of road that was destroyed by a lava flow. Centuries ago, people used these "roads" to transport goods and textiles. Now, of course, coming across one of these anachronisms is a sure call to drag out the camera. Actually, on our way back we encountered a different road, but having been out on this lava field for so many hours, it was the road which looked bizarre and alien. Leopoldo and Katrina there, so you know how big it was.
I stood just off the road, on a rising pillar of (I hoped!) dried lava. There's another bit of road visible in the upper left corner. Just a quick lesson in Volcano Safety: What do we do when lava comes? Right, "Duck and cover!"
If you look waaay off to the left, you'll notice some fumaroles steaming along the side of the mountain. Actually, those might not have been fumaroles, but what they call "skylights", open holes exposing the lava river beneath the surface. At night, the mountain is streaked with red light from the skylights.
Here are a couple of closer pictures of lava. You can really see how "liquidy" it looks. Notice how the one on the right dried with a ropy texture. This stuff, by the way is damn sharp. After two long hikes across these fields, our shoes (Timberline hiking boots) needed new soles.
Something that amazed me was that we saw people who had hiked this far, wearing only flimsy sandals (aka flip-flops). All right, this wasn't that far in, but did these people really understand the kind of ground? I would have to guess not. To give you an idea how nasty this surface can be, once, the three of us sat down to rest. After we finished, I placed my hands against the ground and pushed to help raise myself. So, Katrina and Leopoldo had an extra few minutes to rest while I used Leopoldo's knife to pull lava splinters from my hand.
Well, this used to be the Black Sand Beach (and will again), but as I mentioned above, it's become rather treacherous. We had been hoping to cool our toes in foamy white water, perhaps even splash around a bit after a long hot hike across the lava, but as can plainly be seen, such surcrease from trouble is not to be had. It is quite a sheer cliff and the water smashing the rock to rubble below is anything but soft and gentle. Sadly, we had to trudge all the way back, with visions of extra sharp cheddar cheese and Ritz crackers dancing in our heads.
Deep beneath our feet here is a good restaurant or beach cabana that specializes in shaved ice. Of course, there's no way we can get to it, alas.
Now, this is cool. This is one of those reasons you don't ever want to piss off the local gods. This is all that remains of an interpretive center. The center was located near a holy spot or "heiau" and explained the significance of various Hawaiian artifacts and ruins. Of course, what happened is that Madame Pele just decided to leave a more readily understandable interpretation of herself. It happens. Those I-beams are about as round as a human leg, by the way. So, let this be a lesson to you -- Lava is not a toy!
One of the interpretive center's exhibits was Wahaula Heiau from the 13th century AD. Through all the trials and tribulations of history, it stood, a reminder of an ancient religion. As you (and any other visitors this far over the lava) can see, it's pretty damn easy to interpret this. The lava actually flowed around the structure, splitting up before striking the low stone wall. Note that with the interpretive center (above), the heat was so intense that iron beams way above the lava were still twisted into loops. On the low wall of the heiau were some laminated plastic signs, explaining the age of the structure and its probable significance. Those laminated signs are just wimpy plastic and get this they were totally intact. You're welcome to come to your own interpretation about this. Oh yes.
Sad to say, a year later, a new lava flow buried both of these wonderful ruins as well as lots of other debris that remained from the previous cluster of fools living there. Ah, the transiency of Life...
Everything was fine and we were merrily hiking along, resting every once in a while, comfortable in our belief that the ground upon which we walked was solid. Then I noticed a steam plume. Actually, there were a few. Want to know why Leopoldo and I look unhappy in this picture to the right? As she was taking the picture, Katrina kept saying "Get closer to the plume. Get closer!" Um, Honey, lava's hot. Unfortunately, it's difficult to see the plume because it's no longer moving (okay, if you're really good, next time I'll take a videocamera out there) and there are lots of white reflections all over the rocks. The plume is just right of us and a bit behind Leopoldo.
Behind my head you can see one of these weird lava constructs. When the lava cools, it forms a crust that can be pretty thick. Then, either more lava comes underneath or a chunk of rock is shoved underneath by distant pressure. The ten-foot crust is cracked and shoved upward, but just as it breaks up, the pressure is released and it stays there, frozen. Looks like giant creatures burst from the Earth. Lava looks cool, but it's not. It's hot and sharp.
We're much closer now to the first plume. This is where lava enters the ocean. Lava's pretty damn hot, but there's a whole lot of ocean! Yeah, if only I had a tripod and a big iron kettle and a good length of chain, I'll bet it would be fun to cook out here.
Hey Katrina, why don't you scoot a little closer to the steam. Go on, just a little closer. Just a little closer... Actually, we're pretty close by now, maybe a hundred yards from the cliff edge.
As we came closer, we spotted cool things such as this picture on the left. Sulphur- and other-crap-bearing gas escapes between cracks in the lava crust, depositing all kinds of cool colors. Of course, the vents are still active.
At one time, we were resting (crouching down, because the ground is very warm and covered in thin glass fibers) and noticed, one after another, five or more different steam vents within about twenty feet. All of a sudden, they all went dead. Spooky, man. It's like tiptoeing on the back of a sleeping dragon...
We arrived at our destination, a position where we could watch lava entering the ocean. One of the curious things we discovered is that when molten rock strikes the water, rather than instantly cooling and perhaps cracking up) as I thought, it actually explodes into sand and flying, flaming rock crap. This stuff looks a bit like foamy water, perhaps a bit of flung mud, but it is still damn hot. In this picture, you can see some of this backsplash coming back onto the beach. They try to warn you about it, but until you're struck in the face by the shit, you just don't get it.
The first clue we had that this stuff was dangerous was when we were walking just a little too close to the cliff and we noticed that the ground was covered in a layer of fine green glass fibers. Don't sit on these. Then we noticed that at spots in this deceptively-soft-looking carpet, splats of lava had struck and burned their way, through the glass, to more solid ground beneath. Be afraid. Be really damn afraid. Uh, guys, I think this isn't a good place to be. We all concur on that one and march over to the other side of the vent, where we shot our remaining film.
Hah. As if we thought we were safe...
Here's a real nice shot of lava, pouring into the ocean. The learned observer will notice that now, the lava is spouting out from the cliff. A closer inspection will reveal that the face of the cliff actually looks a little bit different. Yup, we had been walking there a few minutes earlier and now whoosh it's gone. Just like that. Very exciting to hear about. Also very exciting to be there, but exciting in a way that makes you not want to be there any more.
A few minutes after it happened, I noticed a crack in the rock beneath my feet. Actually, I was straddling this crack, and to tell you how I noticed it is to tell you the tale of Feeling An Incredible Heat In a Place I Shouldn't Feel That Hot. Oh my, that was a real eye opener. Leopoldo was already nudging away from the cliff face and saying helpful things like "Uh guys, I think I'm actually pretty nervous about now."
Katrina was just enthralled, watching the lava pour into the water and, what could I say, so was I. I kept snapping picture after picture. Finished off one roll of film, blitzed through another, then got halfway through a final roll.
Of all the pictures we took, this one was probably the most intriguing. Perhaps it's just my imagination, but I could swear that I see the silhouette of a woman in the clouds, leaning toward the cliff, her left arm held across and level in front of her and her right lost in her hair. Sure, you can say "Oh, it's just the luck of the draw", but you weren't there. So, we got lucky and caught Pele on film. This is good.
However, we almost paid for our insolence.
Behind us, about a quarter mile, there was a sudden increase in volcanic activity. Until now, we had pretty much ignored stuff going on behind us, as it seemed kinda' far, we were running out of daylight, and this view had become, with the breaking off of the cliff, much more interesting. Well, we certainly did notice something going on. At about the same time, both Leopoldo and I noticed that the cool blue ocean right in front of us had suddenly started to boil!
Okay, perhaps you're not getting the complete picture here. We're on a cliff. To our right, the furious volcanic activity I've been documenting. To our left, a sudden increase in activity. Directly out from us, the ocean starts to boil. The only other direction to go is back toward the mountain, directly toward the crater.
Do I need to explain my sudden need to leave and head for safe ground?!
So, with great trepidation, we headed back. On the way, we stopped many times to rest and drink more water this time we brought some water, but still not enough, so we mostly just rinsed out our mouths). Curiously, we didn't stop at all until we were far from the hot zone and it was pretty damn hot, by the way).
Unfortunately, during our quick retreat, I caught a lungful of some real nasty gas, which left me hacking for a minute and raw throated for the rest of that day and part of the next. Acid mist clouds, right... You would have thought that warning sign would have been useful. Well, if that's the only damage I suffered, I was quite lucky. A year before, a group of people were all killed when the cliff upon which they were standing suddenly collapsed into the ocean beneath. The last time we did this walk, a group of hikers was killed the very next day. We didn't find this out until after arriving home.
The trip back was a race against the oncoming night. In Hawaii (as in all equatorial regions) it gets dark fast. We were still a good distance from the end of the road by the time we got full dark, but at that point, navigation was a little easier. Woe to anyone stuck out there during the night. In the darkness, we looked backward, to see where we had been. The entire area was engulfed in a fiery spectacle of flying lava and volcanic explosions. Folks near the road had set up tripods and cameras and were "ooh-ing" and aah-ing". We were just amazed that we made it back.
And this time, we took pictures.
