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22 years. What do 22 years mean?
PROLOGUE

It's almost exactly 22 years ago that I started these bike trips. I had a sabbatical year after ten years of teaching, and I figured a good way to former past second and third grade students who had moved from the area would be to take a little bike ride across the country. I had just gotten interested in biking back in 1980, and also figured I could take some good pictures to show the folks back home.

So, after doing a little reading and getting in better shape, I flew out to San Francisco, biked south into Mexico a bit, then across the southwestern desert, across the Mississippi at St. Louis, and then sprinted continually east to the shores of the Atlantic. That first trip was originally going to be the first AND last, but I suppose the biking bug had bit hard, and so now - on this trip - I'll be biking in the last of the states to make it all 50 for me!!!! Also, on this trip I'll roll over my 500th bike touring day - more than a year of my life seeing the world from a bicycle seat!

Through the amazing miracle of digital retrieval I can plunk down here many of those very first words from that first trip and others. Here's what I wrote back when leaving on that first tour in early March of 1980:
 

"I had just been left at the airport in New York.
I had never felt so alone.
I was about to be jetted the very furthest away I'd ever been from home. I was about to be ripped from a nice cozy existence where my week was secure and neatly planned, to a life where every hour would be uncharted and new.
This was where all the bravado and big talk of the last couple months ended - and the reality of thousands of miles would begin. This was where the study and practice and workouts would have to start meshing together with some sort of everyday luck.
Success would mean living as I'd never lived, propelling myself over 4,000 unknown miles through whole populations that were foreign to me. It would demand an extended physical exertion I'd never known, taking me over parts of a huge continent where I'd never been.
It would test my resolve, my training, my sense of adventure, my independence, my strength, my knowledge of people, and my ability to be separated from loved ones.
None of this really needed to be tested. And I began with a nervous apprehension mingled with a sense of high appreciate for the adventure to come.
I already missed my home, my comfy lifestyle - but at the same time, boy-oh-boy, was I ever looking forward to the next day...."

And so it is with this trip - again being jetted away - THIS time though even further away from home than before. (A whole bunch of time zones, and 4,920 miles away to be exact!) The planned 250+ miles of bicycling will be among the shorter trips - but it was 22 years in getting here, so I'll sure try to savor it mightily.....

The trips are for the bicycling mainly. For meeting people and for the photography secondarily. But another of the main enjoyments has always been taking a good chunk of the day to scribe down all the trials and tribulations of the day - and share it with those interested. To use those wonderful things called words to try and breathe life into my experiences. Now, instead of ink pen and paper for my scrawly journal notes, I use a most modern 12-inch screened, 5-pound Apple Macintosh I-book on which I can take my words and send them anywhere in the world. Now not only can I scrawl out descriptives and outlines of my day, but with the help of a nifty digital camera, I can take a picture and share it with anyone on the planet who has access to a computer and a modem.

One other notes about these notes. I usually get one of two comments about them - one is that I go into waaaaayyyy toooooo much boring detail for some readers. The other is from people who say they feel like they are right along with me riding - and they love having that armchair experience without actually sweating up the Rockies or dealing with the camping stuff themselves. I hope you are one of the latter.

Also, please don't hesitate to email me along the way if you have a question or comment. Grist for some of the entries is made up of things I've overlooked writing about, but that someone has kindly pointed out to me.

These journal pages are for a broad audience. Some may know bicycling, camping, photography, geography, or bike touring intimately. Some may not know the difference between a spoke-wrench and a monkey wrench. But as I write for myself into the future (when I may not even be able to get ON a bicycle, much less pedal it for hundreds of miles), I'll also try to write for y'all - and hoping against hope that you'll find some of this of interest, useful, entertaining - or perhaps just as a good antidote to insomnia...

Each bike trip has brought new views, and I can recall the trips in my memory, i can look at the photos, i can reread my journal notes - but there is NOTHING like that excitement and thrill of having the whole experience in front of you. Each trip is like that to a lesser degree: the unknown... the fear of failure, the anticipation of success. But going out for the first time in my opinion is a wonderfully powerful and enviable feeling.

March 4, 2002 - Monday - Day 0
- Travel Day to Kona, Hawaii -
Havertown, PA (near Phila) to Kona, HI
Miles Today - 0 Total Miles -0

- THE BEGINNING - A BRUTAL TRAVEL DAY - MY BRUSH WITH SECURITY - I MAKE IT TO HAWAII!

The music blared out at 5:20am right on schedule. I called my sister Lil, to make sure she was up and ready to truck on over and to take me to the Philadelphia Airport. She was there also to take me on that first trip back in '80. I sure appreciated her early effort this morning.

I went out for a mile bike ride and run to keep those daily streaks alive and to start the day with lungs full of good fresh cool air.

Last night I had finished the necessary packing of bags and they were in the kitchen ready to be bundled into the car. Lil had a short nap on the downstairs sofa while I shaved. We were off by 6:30am, and at the Philly airport by 7am. The flight was United's 95 to Los Angeles, and was due to depart at 8:50am. I sailed through the outside baggage check-in. (Just one big cardboard box.), and thought to myself that it really does make a difference getting places early. Because of the events of September 11th, security has been a lot tougher than usual - and with good reason. But until I rounded one of the corners in the terminal, I thought it must have been just exaggeration. But as I turned the corner I saw a line like I've never seen a line in my life - it like stretched halfway around the terminal! It was so long I laughed!

But I trudged to the end of it and plunked my three carry-on items (my front bag, one of my rear sidebags, and a big plastic bag of reading material, nuts, and other foodstuffs) down by the railing. The line moved snail-like with occasional spurts and more occasional long pauses.

I had planned for this and for the long flights by bringing a ton of reading material - mostly newspapers and magazines I hadn't had time to read at home. And I dug into the pile and started soaking in the pages.

It was kinda creepy in line. Everyone knew why this was going on, and though no one was UNfriendly, there weren't a lot of morning smiles and one could sense a certain tenseness. And it was tough talking to people - one didn't want anyone to uh, suspect you of anything.... It was all I could do to summon up the courage to ask the lady behind me in line to get a picture of me reading.... The sight of the soldier on duty brought chills to me.
Throughout the day at every airport there were frequent announcements about beefed up security being the reason that unattended baggage would be collected and destroyed.

Finally, after an hour, I reached the check in - and placed my stuff on the conveyor belt for x-rayed inspection. Much to my surprise, I sailed through with no problem whatsoever.....
Everyone has to show photo id's at every entry way. As I got mine out with the boarding pass to get on the plane, I took a couple extra moments to rebuckle and zip my bag. I said to the ticket-taker that if I've learned anything carrying bags with a lot of compartments, it's that I need to take the time to make sure that the contents are secure. He nodded at my apology and said not to worry about it, that it gave him a little break.

The first flight from Philly to Los Angeles took the expected five hours and 40 minutes or so. I made it through without too much problem. I about finished my mountain of reading material, and typed a bit - making templates for the journal days (date and date headers), and setting the next ten days daily jokes I send out in AOL's "Mail Waiting to be Sent" folder.. I ate the special vegetarian meal, and it was good. I was told it would be helpful to drink a lot of water, and I did that, too. I was in a window seat, but as luck would have it, the seat next to me was empty, and that made things MUCH easier...

Here's one thing that amazed me: there are signs in the airport all around about not having knives. And the security was tight... But on the plane, with the meals, they gave everyone on the plane a hard plastic spoon, fork, and.... a knife!! I thought that was unbelievable. It was rigid enough to cause damage in the hands of someone who wanted to inflict it, and it was far more dangerous that the tiny nail clippers that have been confiscated by so many in line.

Almost everything is in the planning. I was worried about not having my close-up glasses for reading, but when I reached into the side pocket of my front bag, a pair was right there!
I normally can't sit down for very long anyway, but the flight was uneventful. At the LA airport I had the idea that it would only be two more hours or so to Honolulu - but was told it would be ANOTHER five hour and 40 minute flight!! I drolly said to the United counter woman, 'You're joking, right?" But she wasn't, and the news hit me hard and began to deflate my spirit. It just took the stuffing out of me. As I said, I can't sit for very long anyway, and I'm not the best of flying people. (An inner ear disorder can cause vertigo or dizziness - which is always a worry.) And after the flight to Honolulu was to be a THIRD leg of the flight - that to Kona on the Big Island of Hawaii.

(There seem to be eight main islands that comprise the Hawaii most us think about: Kauai, Niihau, Oahu (where Honolulu is), Lanai, Molokai, Maui, Kahoolawe, and the biggest of the islands, and also where Hawaii began, is the Big Island of Hawaii. All the islands have various notable attractions, natural and man-made. The Big Island has the most volcanic activity though, especially around Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.)

After about an hour in the LA airport (fifteen minutes of which I spent logged into email thanks to a handy kiosk there), I somewhat slowly bedraggled myself on to the giant 777 United aircraft - a middle aisle of five seats, and another row of two seats on each side of the fuselage. It was giant by any standards I knew.

I again lucked out - had an aisle seat, and again no one next to me. But I was tired for most of this flight, and a little headachey. And the occasionally piercing crying the little kid on the other side of the plane didn't help much. Glad I wasn't sitting closer...
I can never get this time thing right when traveling. The time zones, I mean. But Hawaii is 5 hours earlier than Philadelphia. It's 2:25pm as I write this, but my Ibook reads the home time as 7:25pm. It seems incredible that I could have already been traveling the whole day. But my butt and back have started to creak and groan, and we're not even halfway through this lap...

The vegetarian lunch on this leg of the trip was superb... - a seemingly fresh salad and a hot rice and eggplant platter.

By the end of the ride across the Pacific to the Islands, I was dragging pretty badly. Got into Honolulu around 6pm Hawaii time (11pm home time), and then went through quite a rigmarole with security.... It's a pretty long story and I won't go into all the details, but United had gotten in late to Honolulu, and I had a connecting flight to get to the Big Island, Hawaii. Well, I managed to get to the boarding location just in time, but then I had to go through the security deal, which seemed tougher than Philadelphia's. Because of being late I had to take my packed box on ---- BUT that's where my good camping knife was. they saw that and so either I had to leave my knife and run to the plane, OR take the 7pm flight.

The airport manager who was there said there were plenty of seats available. I ran to the counter to have the knife specially packaged. At the counter the guy told me that the 7pm flight was overbooked and I'd have to be on stand-by. (I later learned this was the last flight of the night.) So, I hustled back to the check-in place to make the plane which they were holding for me, but it was too late. So I had to go back to the counter with my big box and check in formally where I learned there were plenty of seats. Now each time I went back to the check-in place I had to have everything x-rayed, and had to show ID. This happened about 4 times! I understood, but it was a pain. (I could imagine how some security camera must surely have been excitedly following me around that airport.) There were two VERY serious looking soldiers with big rifles at the ready near the x-way machine. Furthermore, I was pretty exhausted and headachey by now with the 11 or so hours of flying. Also, I could only imagine what they were thinking, as I just fit the profile of people they were to be careful to watch for: a weirdly dressed guy coming late - with a knife no less!!!!

After sitting and watching the sunset over the mountains and watching the big sky turn all shades of pink, I got on the 7pm plane (now midnight our time) and slept through the 170-mile, 45minute ride to Kona. It was nighttime by the time the plane took off. I was so happy that it was a jet. I was fearful that it might be a prop plane - and I don't know if my head could have taken that. (My experience with such a connection getting to the start of my Seattle to Denver Over the Rockies ride left me permanently worried about a connection like that.... tiny plane, no room for the bike even, and flying through fog at night. I had to sleep in the tiny airport that night awaiting my bike....)

It wasn't long afterward that I got my big box of tent, etc, and the little box - with the knife - from the outdoor carousel. I got a cab for the 10miles or so to the hotel that was set up for me. I was so mentally wiped out that I would have paid anything, but $20 still DID seem kinda steep.

Check in was pretty easy. I found out the check out time was 12:30pm which was great, since I was hoping to sleep pretty late if I could - and I inquired about the cost of another night if available, but the $135 price tag nixed that idea. No non-smoking rooms available, but the nicely appointed room I did get wasn't at all smoky.

I was too down-on-the-floor to shower. It was 9:21pm (2:21am!!!!) after I washed up, typed a little, organized a few things, and plopped myself in my sleeping bag on the bed, and plopped my head on a pillow - and thought about the real adventure to come.
 

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DAY 1
 

March 5, 2002 - Tuesday - Day 1

Miles Today - 36 Total Miles - 36
Kona, HI to Kawaihae, HI
(-stayed in b&b in Hawi, HI -)
-FIRST BIKING DAY - EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED - WHALES LUNGING TOWARD THE SKY - WIND, RAIN, MORE WIND, MORE RAIN -
 

I awoke after a good-enough night's sleep and felt surprisingly strong.
The sending out of the journal notes when without a hitch through the
hotel room phone. I retrieved e-mail, too, of course. There were several
business-related notes among the 25 or so messages, but one mentioned about a
fellow Optimist who had died. His son e-mailed me about it. Jack Moriority
had a wonderful smile in front of deep blue eyes, and firm handclasp. I wrote
back that I would miss the wonderful guy, and that I'd pause by the Pacific
and send out some thoughts about him.

My mile run took me to the bike shop where I found the bike on the stand
and finished ready to go... I enjoyed meeting the fellows from the bike shop
who I had chatted with on the phone. I especially wanted to meet Joel, of course.

Jason who I first met there, took me around through the store which
was being renovated to the little office where Joel was chatting amiably on
the phone. 20ish and unshaven, he had a great friendly smile. He was at the
desk and I noticed a brace on his leg. Like I usually do for folks in braces
or casts, I asked him in a friendly way what had happened to him. And then I
wanted to fall through the floor when he swiveled his chair around and I
noticed he had no leg. As I apologized for the gaffe, he was good humored
about it and said that he was born without the leg. He had one of those great
metal prosthesis things that allowed him full movement. It was something that
clearly didn't slow the guy down, and I was very impressed about that.
After checking in at the bike store to put some unneeded gear in the bike
box to go home in 9 days, I crossed the street and had a couple bean tacos at
the Taco Bell. (By-the-way, one of the first things at the airport in
Honolulu to smack me in the face, and now as I biked through town was Wendy's
and Starbucks. And Wal-Mart. And Radio Shack. These and other known brand
stores dotted all over the city.)

After consuming the food, I stood outside as a little blond girl of about
5 watched bemused as I doused and smothered myself with sun block. Then I set
off north on Route 19 under partly cloudy skies that alternately splashed
sunlight on the road mixed with grey.

The Big Island of Hawaii is a microcosm of a multitude of little
weather systems. I'm told I'll be heading north on the sunny side, and then
round the corner to the rainy side. As you'll read on, it didn't quite work
out that way for today...

This is nothing like the ride I expected today - most especially the
scenery's barren landscape. But at 14 miles out, when I saw the sign "Donkey
Crossing - Beware between 6 and 7am", I knew I wasn't in Havertown anymore!
Started out into a small spurty headwind mixed with occasional tailwind.
It was good riding over slightly rolling terrain.

At about 12:15pm a tiny sprinkle started to fall. I went for while longer
before doing some modest covering of my bags.

At about 1:30pm, at 17 miles out, I stopped to suck from my water bottle
and to cover the gear as the slow drizzle was picking up to a steady staccato
tattoo against the bags. I had seen a sign on the lava field to the left, and
as I looked through it with my binoculars I also saw part of the ocean
behind. There was some splashing I noticed, and then when I trained my
binoculars in that direction, much to my amazement I saw huge pillars popping
out of the water, and then came the realization that those were humpback
whales doing their thing, and lunging toward the sky. Majestic. Awing.
Certainly one of the more amazing animals I've seen on any bike trip.
I stood in the drizzle and wanted to shout to the cars passing by, "Hey,
look what you're missing!!!!!" After I came back the 25 yards or so, I was
standing by the bike when a speedy racing cyclist buzzed by and startled me.
He said, "You all set?" I guessed that was his way to ask if everything was
okay, but he was gone before I could say anything... I stared for awhile
longer toward the whales before taking off along the highway....

For more than 22 miles out of Kona there wasn't a sign of a building
anywhere. There were some probably 20 miles away to the right up on the
mountain right outside of Kona, but that was it. Just that scrabbly lava rock
with the sandstone rock letters put there presumably by kids spelling out
sweetheart's names and various other things. At first outside Kona I thought
the that scrabbly rock and dirt was just the earth having been turned over
by big earth-moving machines - perhaps preparing the land for some kind of
building or something. But shortly and for most of the rest of the day the
moonscape terrain was ever-present on the side of the road so I was sure
there was something else at work here. To the left beyond the lava field in
the distance was the Pacific. To the right beyond the lava field was a small
range of mountains - for most of the day ringed with clouds that ranged from
grey to ominous black. For part of the time before it hit me, I could see the
rain showers coming towards the highway.

Behind the main bulk of today's rain came an amazingly fierce headwind -
and rolling hills. Well, it was hard just ROLLING down them... The wind began
at 1:30pm and caused my quick progress to come to a grinding slow-down. I
went from my effortless 18 miles-per-hour to a tortoise-like 4-7
miles-per-hour as the constant breezes began hitting the loaded touring bike
like a it was hitting a wall!

Around 2:30pm I spied two touring cyclists coming toward me. Dave and
Sandy were from Santa Rosa, CA, and I pumped them for info about the road
ahead, and also got a nice shot of them overlooking a bay. Sandy recommended
a little B&B in Hawi (pronounced "Havi"). The two middle-aged+ folks were
headed toward accommodations at a big hotel not far, and then the next day
they would be heading into Kona for their flight home.
At 3pm I rolled over 30 miles - still trying to slice my way into a
blizzard of headwind.

I stopped at a state park but was told that I couldn't camp there because
I had no registration. The friendly fellow recommended an illegal place a
little ways away. I was considering it, but then went to town for a little
dinner. It was about 4:30, and there being nothing along the way I had
subsisted on sunflower seeds and a power bar all day since the tacos.
A red-eyed guy in a scuba diving-tour store put me in touch with Bobi who
owned the B&B that my friendly bikers had told me about. After much
consternation, and thinking of many options, I elected to get a ride with a
friend of Bobi's, to her place, and then get a ride back to this spot
tomorrow to continue the ride.

While waiting for the ride to the B&B I pedaled the hundred yards or so
to the Shipwreck outdoor diner. Cute little place. I wasn't very hungry
though. And I didn't have much choice in the selection. Finally settled on a
veggie sandwich without the cheese or onions, and some french fries to go
with it. It came to only $7. I ate half the sandwich, then stared at the
other half for awhile wondering if I had enough energy to each it. Had a
couple of the fries, a couple bites of the sandwich and two cans of some
Hawaiian canned stuff which had papaya and some other tropical fruits in it,
and proudly proclaimed to be made here...
Rick finally arrived in his pickup truck. He and his girlfriend Si,
worked together on construction jobs. On the way up the hillside it began to
really rain hard. But before that I got view of my first Hawaiian rainbow.
Glorious.

I met Bobi at the door of her place. She was in robe and bedroom slippers
and was very friendly and talkative in a kindly kind of way. As the rain grew
harder, I put the bike in a nearby rec-room, and brought my bags to the room
where I was to stay... We chatted a little, but soon I was tucked in the
roomy kitchen with the i-book on the kitchen table. I plugged in, and with
i-tunes rolling out the tunes, I listened to my little tape recorder and
pieced together today's journal entry.

Bobi would pop by once in awhile with the weather report - and to say the
winter has been 'crazy'.... seems there has been an awesome amount of rain
down near Hilo, and the first lightening strike she has ever heard of in
these parts. Part of the road is washed out and closed into Hilo! We
discussed a huge number of options for my ride tomorrow.
I sat about 2 hours enjoying the music, the typing, the reviewing of the
day and the strong Pacific breeze blowing in on me. The rain was coming down
in gales - and pounded against the windows and the roof for most of the two
hours. (I was glad I was not camping.) I typed in my sweaty filth until I
could type no longer and my shoulders were stooped with weariness. And then,
after transferring the day's images from the camera to the computer, and
sending out e-mails, I went and took my shower and went to bed.
 

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DAY 2
 

March 6, 2002 - Wednesday - Day 2
Miles Today - 21 Total Miles - 57
Kawaihae, HI to Kapaau, HI
(-Kohola Adventure B&B -)

 

Anyone who knows me, knows full well what torment I went through in
thought process of taking the ride to get to the B&B yesterday. (Well, maybe
"torment" is a little strong there!) And anyone who knows me, ALSO knows
that I wouldn't leave that stretch unridden in my quest to circle the Big
Island... So it was with that in mind that I got a ride back to Kawaihae with
my bike. But I get ahead of myself...

It was a great night's slumber in the little cozy room. I could hear the
rain on and off throughout the night. And the wind, too. I later learned that
there was quite a bit of rare thunder here, and lightening, too.
The best part of the night was when I went over to the bathroom across
the little outside hall around 4:30am or so. The little area opens onto a
little patio. Even without my glasses the stars were the brightest I'd seen
for many years. Perhaps since Alaska two years ago. Perhaps since the
southwestern desert in 1980!! But when I went back in the room, retrieved my
glasses, and looked, it was an even more amazing thing. The half moon was so
brilliant it was hard to stare at it, the stars were twinkling in shiny array
away from the pollution back home. I thought, "This is the way the night sky
is SUPPOSED to look!!!!" I stood and watched for quite a few minutes. Jaw
dropped. And inhaling the fragrant night air - which had brushed over the
Pacific through the trees and to me. It was a glorious moment.

Back in bed, I fell asleep shortly, but then there was a problem with the
phone in the nearby kitchen. I got up and put the receiver back on, came back
and snuggled into my sleeping bag on the bed, and dozed all the way until
about 7:30am. As I opened the door to my little room, the sun poured in.
There was a huge spider web nearby. Got a great picture of it as the sun
glinted across the strands. There were hundreds of webs all around the place.
Some had almost rope-thick strands. Bobi said some of her clients didn't like
them. She said one couple left two days early because they had seen a gecko.
(A little lizard type thing.) I saw one in the kitchen later in the day, and
it was a cute little bugger.

It wasn't long before I was out on my mile run down the lane toward the
bigger highway. These morning runs help to iron out the night-time kinks,
assess my strength for the day, and of course, keep the run streak going.
They are also great for seeing things even closer than I do from the bike
seat. A huge dead toad, the size of two fists, lay on the road - poor guy,
still intact except for an arm. Saw a brilliantly red cardinal on a telephone
line.

Spent part of the morning chatting with Bobi, an interesting lady into
the latest health food stuff. She's looking for a husband on the internet.
She has adopted 7 kids who all older now, and has three of her own. The one
furthest away she told me is in an Alaskan prison, and she's worried about
him. She made me some thick oatmeal and I finished off the peanut butter on
thick whole grain bread.

After sending journal pages last night I got an ominous message from
America On Line that my account was terminated because I was guilty of
spamming. When I tried to get online this morning, my account was blocked. So
I spent about an hour on the phone with AOL. Since I send these notes to over
100 people around the world it constitutes spam. I had a special dispensation
about that, but it seemed to have expired. The lady was very helpful in
correcting the problem, but it was kinda dicey there for awhile because the
credit card number had been changed and they didn't have the new one to
verify who I was. I sweated bullets until I came up with an old file on the
iBook that had the correct number.

I left around 11:30ish with Charles, one of the other folks at the B&B. Charles

is from Texas and works as some kind of petroleum planner. He 'has
properties' in Hawaii, and he was up checking on them. Today though he was
heading for the beach, and he didn't mind pulling me and my bike along with
him toward the Blue Dolphin restaurant where I stopped riding yesterday. We
are only a year apart in age, and so we had some discussions about that.
("There are three things to go," he said. "One is vision, two is hearing,
and I can't remember the third!") He said his business was lagging a bit,
and used an unusual, but very descriptive and effective verb to describe what
has happened - he said he'd been "binLadened"!

Charles talked about the whales a little. He said I had probably seen
blue whales yesterday. He said that each foot of a whale is about a ton, and
that they get up to 45 feet in length. He said that the nearby mountain was
31,420 feet from sea floor to top, and actually was the largest and tallest
in the world.

After some photos, I set off about 12:20pm. Charles would be coming back
that way and so I felt I had a nice safety net. Touring bicyclists are pretty
much at the mercy of the elements and people, and except for the wits about
us, it's nice to have that safety net wherever possible.
Charles got a kick out of it, when after he described another off-shoot
ride I might be interested in traveling, I said to him, "Everyone keeps
wanting to send me further."

I rode under full blaze sun for the first hour or so. And it was splendid
riding - light side wind and nice gently rolling road. Nice views of the
Pacific to my left. Even the big rolls I managed with little effort - often
clocking 17-20 miles per hour. That all changed for the second half of the
ride, as the clouds rolled in, and the wind ripped into me - the going at
that point was 4-6 miles per hour - at a struggle. It was grinding and
grueling, but I kept moving ahead.

The lava fields were gone now. Green and some mountains to my inland
right, and green fields or trees to the ocean beyond. Still, except for
occasional homes there was nothing until I reached little Hawi where maybe 10
or 12 stores lined the sides of the road. There were a few up-scale
communities but I could only see the gates, and I'm sure there were beaches
down below but they were hidden to me because of the lay of the land. I could
have ridden down a number of roads to check them out, but had no inclination
to pedal the long slope back up.

The highway here is where the yearly Ironman contest is run.
A cement factory was on the right at one point, and frozen dribbles of
cement rolled over one of the walls for it's entire 50 yard length perhaps. I
caught a picture of a ladder frozen forever in that cement on the side wall -
it looked eerie and surreal.

The rain came right at 15 miles, at 2pm. It never got heavy, but it
was pretty steady for awhile. Then it was intermittent for the rest of the
day.

Just across from the statue of King Kamehameha (the king who was the
first to unite all the islands), in front of a little tiny row of stores, an
older guy from Cleveland named Clarence said he liked my biking outfit. He
got a photo of me in front of a wall sculpture of the Islands. Then I got one
of him and his wife of 50 years. It was cute the way he told me the years,
months, and exact days he was married. Very friendly fellow under some kind
of navy cap.

I paused before turning toward the B&B. I could have gone to the end of
the island on a spur road. Everyone said I should. But the wind wasn't good
and it would have been 14 miles. I may be sorry, but I just didn't feel like
it.

Yesterday was 36 and today I had 21 under my belt. It was a little
upsetting when I realized that a 57 mile day would have been well within my
reach a number of years ago - but then I realized it was never within reach -
or smart - for a first or second day of a tour. I could still truck that
distance later on if this were a longer tour.

I came back to the house and began on the project of outlining all my
bike rides in dark blue ink on a big USA AAA map. It took about an hour, but
I sure enjoyed it. Brought back all kinds of great memories. It would make it
a lot easier to show people where I'd been.

Had a great shower, and shaved, and then began arranging my bike bag
contents again. That's a never-ending process as priorities shift.
Wanted to help Bobi with her iMac, and teach her some things, but got too
involved with it, and ended up spending a ton of time in her part of the
house. She's not too computer savvy, and though I was happy to help, I spent
a little longer than I wanted to there.

She washed my clothes and shared some fresh pineapple with me. But it
wasn't until about 11pm that I finally put the finishing touches on these
notes, and exhaustedly went to sleep, listening to some of the Hawaiian music
that I ripped from one of Bobi's cd's onto the iBook. The winds were ripping
around outside, but at least it wasn't raining - for now.
Tomorrow I climb into the mountains to ride the spine of the Koholo
Mountain range, and turn the corner to the other (rainier!) side of the Big
Island.
 

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DAY 3
 

Note: I sure enjoy hearing from those of you who write me. But would you
kindly not include the journal page when you write - it takes a long time to
filter through on my modem........ before you look at today's picture, try
to think of the plant that you'd be LEAST likely to see in Hawaii. I was
amazed. In my experience anyway, I just would never have guess this plant to
be here.... and finally, I really tried to tone down today's entry. Hope I
wasn't too too melodramatic. It was quite a day!
 

March 7, 2002 - Thursday - Day 3
Miles Today - 24 Total Miles - 81
Kapaau, HI to Weimea (Kamuela), HI
- Kamuela Inn -

It wasn't the best of night's sleep. Don't know why.
But I was up at 7:15am, and hurriedly went to knock on Bobi's door. She
had asked me to do so to make sure she was up for her substitute teaching
job. She was dreading the 5th graders who she was to teach Spanish. Anyway,
she had a big bowl of oatmeal ready for me, and it was much better than
yesterday's. We chatted a bit, I got a picture of her, and then she left.
Outside my room one of the big fan trees had a palace of spider webs - at
least 75 of the arachnid galaxies spiraled out in amazing array, glistening
in the morning sunlight.

On my mile run down the lane I noticed that the big toad was still there.
Still dead, too. Being a feast for the flies.

Got on the way at 9:30am..... Down at the end of the lane I glanced to
the right - toward that spur that I didn't take to the end of the island. I
thought, hmmm, The Road Not Taken....

Then I proceeded in the other direction toward Hawi again and after about
2 miles made the left onto Route 250! I immediately ran into the foothills of
the Kohala Mountain range. It was 500 feet elevation before starting to
climb. If I knew then, what I know now as I write this at the end of the day,
I'm not sure I would have been so cheery at the start....

Right from the beginning I was turtle-ing along at about 3mph. It was
very slow going. Again, if I knew then what I knew later in the day, I would
have been DELIGHTED with 3mph!! I had the pack back on again, and I could
sure tell the difference with the 40 extra pounds or so....

A string of little homes extended on either side up the mountain road.
Saw a lady carrying a baby on a porch, and shouted out to her, "Ya got a hill
here!" The sky was a gorgeous blue with puffy clouds. It was very warm all
day - probably in the 80's. When I turned to look behind me, the descent was
amazing, but even more amazing was my new view of the Pacific! It spread out
forever there just beyond the coast. It looked totally different from the
angle of the mountains as opposed to my angle from the coastline.

I took each little plateau slowly. Occasionally I'd have to stop to wipe
sweat off my brow. A few little gardens lay on the margin of the lane, and
I'm sure they were there just for me. Daisies, some pink things I don't know
the name of, and various other flowers wild and tame. In one garden there was
a little cement circle, and embedded in the circle-pie, probably by some
little kid, were marbles in a star design. (You get to notice a LOT of things
when you're going 3mph!!!) Beyond the houses was farmland, green and brown.
But mostly green - and some of the fields were dotted with horses and cows
and a couple roosters here and there.

At my five-mile mark I read the bright yellow and huge highway sign:
Caution, Winding Road, Narrow Shoulders Next 17 miles!

At 10:55 I was at 1,500 feet! And still climbing. Now I have gone all
through the Rockies many times, and I have biked the full length of the
Appalachians twice. But there were always ups and downs - here was all up, an
occasional somewhat-up plateau, then more up, never-ending.
Following are some of my mileages and times. You'll notice the snail's
pace. I wasn't a happy camper with the progress I was making. By the end I
was happy to be surviving....

It was 11am when I hit the 5.6 mile mark.
It was 11:14 when I hit 6.6 mile mark.
It was 11:29 when I hit 7.6 mile mark. Here I could look off to a huge
broad expanse from left to right horizons. Green grass and a few trees. Again
cow dotted. And ahead in the haze below, the blue Pacific spreading away into
the future.

For much of today's ride, aside from the Pacific and the cactus - yes,
you read that right! - I could have been biking near home in fertile Chester
County. Well, except that the downhills are more frequent there....
I was very fortunate with the wind. There was some tailwind, and when the
wind came wafting onto my face it was cool, dissipating the gallons of
perspiration that hadn't already dripped off me.

It was 11:47 when I hit 8.6 miles. (Almost a 20-minute mile! Out of the
foothills now, buckos!

At 12:08pm I passed 2,500 feet elevation.
It was 12:09 when I hit.... well, as you know I listen to my little tape
recorder for these and many other notes from the day. But I was breathing,
and grunting and sighing and yawning so hard at this entry, that I just
couldn't make it out.....

It was just past here that I thought I was at the top... I saw a weather
tower or something and I knew that usually meant the summit. And I kept
thinking, hoping, hoping against hope that the next ridge would be the last
climb. I had been told that after 11 miles it would be all down hill. But
clearly those people never rode bikes along here. I continued to climb and
continued to go slower and slower, stopping much more frequently then I ever
recall. Not only that water was becoming a concern now. I only had drops in
the bottle left. No stores, no houses to speak of, except for a few
farmhouses miles down long dirt driveways....

I don't want to be overly dramatic here, but I went right to the edge of
myself. I was beyond any kind of humor now, and barely had enough strength to
give my customary friendly wave to the infrequent on-coming cars or trucks.
My legs were pumping away more from memory reflex than from any kind of
muscle energy.

At 12:30 the informative sign read that the elevation was 3,000 feet. I
felt just about ready to roll over the to the side of the road, fall into a
thicket of those nice soft-looking ferns, cover myself up with them, and
forget the whole thing....
It was 1:03 when I rolled over 9.6 miles. (Yep, more than an hour for
that mile! Ugh.)

Toward the top of one crest there was a real ruckus of cow mooing. Loud
and annoying. I noted through my sweat and sunscreen blurriness that there
were some cowboy types over to the left lassoing and perhaps branding. There
were hundreds of cows. I normally would shout over to such a herd, "Hey,
it's not MY fault you're there. I'm a vegetarian!" But I just didn't have
the strength.

It was 1:30 when I reached 11 miles. And it's at this point that the sky
was getting a little darker. Huge grey clouds behind me....
I stopped once and got off the bike - the first time all day. I leaned it
against a thick tree and walked around a bit. I considered sitting there by
that comfy looking tree, leaning back, and falling asleep... but I just knew
that would not be a particularly good idea. I was just not sure that I'd be
able to get up again. Seriously.

It was 1:48 when I reached 14.7 miles. At this point a couple in a green
car, pulled up beside me as I stood resting on my bike by the roadside - "Are
you ok?" the nice lady asked. I looked at her, barely managed a smile, and
responded, "Tired!" She understood, smiled, and they drove off. I'm glad
they stopped. It was a nice lift for me. Helped me get about another 500
feet....

It was 2pm when I reached 15 miles. And for the first time in the whole
day, I had a little roll. I was reaching, reaching, and hoping that the
downhill was upon me, but it wasn't to be.
It was 2:04 when I reached 15.7 miles.
It was 2:06 when I reached 15.8 miles. And at that point the elevation
sign read 3,564 feet.

It was near here that I came upon a guard house for a gigantic ranch. I
was totally out of water now, and I rolled up, got off the bike and asked the
pleasant and plump lady if there was any water I could have. In the back of
the guardhouse was a sink, toilet, and shower even. She was quite bemused by
me I'm sure. I asked if I could sit on the easy chair. Then if I could put my
feet up on the table. I was really bottomed out, moving soooooo slowly. Soon,
I regained some energy to look around, and saw some horse folk training. A
young blond woman was on a horse. The sparkling day beyond, and the 10-miles
- or more - of ranch was as a backdrop extraordinaire.

There was a nice cool breeze at 2:08 when at 16 miles into the day, I
convinced myself that I had finally reached the top. (Well, it would be
actually another 15 minutes or so away.) But what a view! On my right was a
long, broad and green plain. The occasional tree. A huge pond by which a
couple horses are standing in bold relief in front of the water. And beyond
all that magnificent scene, the Pacific sprawled out omni-directional
bedecked in gorgeous haze. On the left huge mountains reach toward the clouds
punctuated with the ever-present telephone poles, green wild grass, and some
out-croppings of rock.

And cactus! You could have knocked me over - who in their right mind
would have expected to see cactus in Hawaii???? The first time I saw it I
thought it was a statue of cactus. But then it was all over the place -
thousands of cactus bushes. Who would have thought???

The saving grace for the day was the delicious sweet air. Believe me, I
pumped it into my lungs, enjoying the fresh clean fragrance. It gave me
strength.

The road didn't seem much different, but now I shot along at 26mph for a
little stretch, then came another hill. But the main thing now was the
mountainside on the left - from the top to midway - rain was spreading
ominously toward me. It was like a moving curtain, a wall of grey falling
earthward. But it wouldn't catch me - now, finally, I was able to whiz along
at speeds of 30-35mph - and could outrace Mr. Slow Poke storm.

It was 2:23 when I hit 17.7 miles.
It was 2:26 when I hit 18.7 miles. (If you're still with me here, you can
tell I had finally found a decent downgrade - a 3 minute mile. I was sailing
here, and I kept saying to myself, "I deserve THIS, and I'm going to enjoy
it!)

A late model convertible is ahead of me at one point. A little girl - say
about 6 years old - she pops up from the backseat with pink-framed sunglasses
on - and looks back at me quizzically.

I deserved MORE downhill. It was only a few miles worth compared to what
I had endured on the climb. I came out to the main highway to Weimea and then
there were more hills and a bunch of traffic now, too. I was really bushed.
As I entered Weimea, I saw a hospice sign and a hospital sign. I felt
ready for either. (Well, at least my sense of humor returned....)

I couldn't believe it would be only a 24 mile day. I tried to compare
this with other days on tours past. I tried to compare myself with those
other rides. And I just suppose I came up short. Maybe. Maybe not - there
were rides 15 years ago that I stopped short, too. So I just wasn't sure....
I came upon the Kamuela Inn around 3:30 or so. It sure looked inviting
with wonderful palm trees and a well kept lawn with two big white chairs
there that were beckoning me. Judy, behind the counter, was friendly. I'm
sure I looked a sight!

I had really wanted to go to the coast today, another 13 miles. But I
decided that everything considered, I would settle for the crappy mileage
day, and settle in here. The room was breezy, and I did something I don't
often do - I lay on the bed shirtless, and didn't do ANYTHING! Just
reflected on the ride and all the feelings of success and failure and travel
that blew around inside me.

Shortly, I showered and washed my clothes. I checked in for email - what
a fun thing to do! Then I took the wet clothes over, and Judy said that she
would dry them for me - and I especially appreciated that since there was
clearly a sign there that read, "Not for Customer Use!"
I walked around the town just a little, and found a Mexican Restaurant
and had a couple bean tacos, a big chocolate chip cookie, and a delicious
lime drink of some kind. I poked around a couple other places, and then
headed back to type up today's notes.

 

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DAY 4
 

March 8, 2002 - Friday - Day 4
Miles Today - 62 Total Miles - 143
Weimea (Kamuela), HI to Hilo, HI
- Seaside Motel -
 

It was a nice morning run - flat highway outside the motel. Great night's
sleep although I woke up to some odd dreams. One thing about bike touring,
especially when camping - sleep is always deep and usually dreamless. So it
was unusual awakening that way.

I partook of the little continental breakfast and loaded up on guava
juice and a couple delicious muffins.

I got a call from Josh. Josh is a friend of a friend back home. I had
called him last night and left a message. He lives right on my way, lives in
an A-frame apparently right on or near the beach, and invited me to 'hang'
for a couple of days. He's a 32-year old doctor who works in a clinic. I told
him I was in Weimea and was thinking I'd make Hilo today. He said it would
probably take two days. Well, anyone who knows me, knows what thought
process THAT comment put into motion. I decided that if it was at all within
the realm of possibility, that I would try to make it to Hilo today as
originally planned.

Josh gave me some valuable information about the volcano area that I was
heading into between Hilo and his place.

Now, one of my goals of the trip was to finish that 8oz. tube of Banana
Boat suntan lotion! And I applied it liberally before setting out. Before the
end of the day, I would have two thick layers of dried sun block and road grit
sandwiched together on my legs!

One indication of how much I sweat yesterday - my helmet pads were still
soaking wet this morning. I was on my way down the highway by 9:15am.
I received a number of e-mails from folks who they liked that descriptive
of the broad plain out to the Pacific from yesterday's notes. I thought you
should be aware that a good portion of the day is not spent looking around
but dead down in front of the bike tire - always scanning for gravel, glass,
ruts in the road, nails, shards of plastic, bricks, bricbraks, vertical
grates, dead animals, and fallen tree branches. Not to mention grease-slicks,
tacks, potholes and rocks. And also watching out for cars, trucks,
trailers, and rearview mirrors from those and other moving vehicles. And in
the city, watching out for those pesky car doors that might open right in
front of you from a row of parked cars. Most of this is pretty second nature
to me now, but I still consciously think about all that stuff most of the
time. Yep, one misses a bunch of scenery, but nothing brings a bike trip to
a dead halt faster than a punctured tire! It's a careful compromise!

Four miles out of Weimea I stopped a pretty darn good roll to take a
picture of what appeared to be a rooster farm! Scores of little A-frame
'doghouse' things all with their own little rooster inside, or outside of it
squawking around.

Along the way, I've seen farms with sheep, cattle, goats, horses, and now
roosters. There were a number of corn fields today.

At 9.7 miles outside of Weimea at 10:20am, I began the first of quite a
few wonderful rolls today. On this one, I felt like the proverbial bobsled on
wheels - rushing forward with no pedaling, as if attached to a little handle
pulling me along. It was a glorious part of the day, and especially after
yesterday's travails, it was appreciated no end.

Got to the coast in a little more than an hour. As I came toward Honoka'a
there was a grand view of the Pacific with the little town cutely nestled
right beside it.

The last great number of miles were effortless, and I figured I COULD
have gotten here yesterday. But I sure enjoyed the place yesterday and last
night, and I think I enjoyed this ride a lot better today being fresh. Also,
it's not all peaches and cream hurtling along at 30mph, so for safety sake I
think it's a good thing I hadn't pushed on. And, there were no apparent
places to stay near the highway once I got here anyway...

I stood and looked around there on the main highway at Honoka'a.... Not
much to see. There were a few signs, and I dunno, I JUST don't know - but I
think that the Hamakua Visitor Center might have elected to pick a different
signpost. I mean, they are right above Tex's Drive-in which is okay, but the
sign right above the Visitors Center advertises in big bold letters..... the
BAD ASS COFFEE COMPANY!!!!

More descent. And then even MORE delicious descent!! It went on and on.
The cool Pacific wind blasting my body. I had to be careful of loose rocks on
the shoulder fallen from cliffs near the roadside caused by the recent
rainstorms. There were a number of recently used road maintenance signs off to
the side saying 'Road Flooded'.

The ocean was full on my left now, much closer then when I was on the
other side of the island. I felt very emotional about it at this point - it
was two days shy of those 22 years ago that I was dipping my front wheel into
the Pacific before setting out east over the continent, and now I was west of
that point on a pinpoint in the Pacific looking over to myself...

At eighteen miles the shoulder abruptly disappeared. It would reappear
again a little later and stick with me the whole rest of the day. The riding
has been on wonderful roadway - and whenever I see a road crew I always thank
them for their good work. We sure take the roads mostly for granted. Always
room for improvement, but I know my trip would not have been possible if it
weren't for the well-kept and terrific highway system.

Just about twenty miles out of Waimea there was a great gushing of
waterfall out of a cliff and down into the ocean. Got a cool photo of it.
Not too many times that I stop to pick up coins. But this day, I scored
two pennies, a nickel and a dime.

At Paauillo I stopped for 30 minutes of lunch. I especially wanted to
hydrate better than yesterday, and so fill up my water bottle. I stared at
the bill of fare scribbled on the outside wall of the dusty porch. And
disappointedly walked into the little store since there was nothing I could
really eat as read from the sign. I saw the cook inside, and suggested they
should have veggie or garden burgers. She said no, but then remembered they
DID have some after all. I sat and enjoyed a scrumptious sandwich with some
chips and some guava drink. Superb!

Shortly, I chatted with a few local guys. They were on lunchbreak and
found my travels of interest. I went into the restroom, and as I opened the
door a little lizard thing went scuttling into the hole in the corner - only
his long spindly tail sticking out for a bit, until it slowly slid through
the hole and disappeared as well.

At only 12:15pm I hit 24 miles - the full measure of yesterday's entire
mileage!!

A little after lunch I saw a couple touring cyclists coming at me. My
usual greeting is, "Well, it's sure great seeing someone who's looking as
funny as me." That always gets a smile.

Benj and Laura were in their last week of an EIGHT month tour. They had
visited 6 countries and had covered over 8,000 kilometers Benj said. They
come from Massachusetts but had sold their apartment there, and were going to
fly back to New York to be with Laura's mom before they moved out west. They
were a likable couple and I got some cute pictures of the two of them. I also
got their e-mail address to send them the images. The couple said that they
camped a lot on the beaches even without the required registration and had
had no problems. I sort of envied that - but then, their trip was certainly
different from mine in many ways.

That little scenario was repeated a few miles down the road when I got to
meet John and Sandra. They were circling the island in the opposite direction
from me. From southern California, they were near the end of their cycling
day.

After this the sky turned cloudy, and I noted the ominous sign of cars
approaching with headlights on. But this day was a dry one for me. I had seen
a newspaper story this morning that was captioned, "Hilo Has 50-inches of
Rain - Keeps it's Reputation in tact.

Quite a number of those crosses that mark people from car deaths along
the side of the road today. One wall of trees had three trim little crosses.
Yesterday I passed a sad marking place that had a little trimmed Christmas
tree on it. I recalled the first time I had ever noticed those crosses back
in '80 in poor Quemada, New Mexico. I thought the people were actually buried
there.

Crossed quite a few gulches. These great crevices in the earth seem
usually formed by torrents of water rushing down from the mountains. The
smaller gulches are crossed on metal and cement bridges. The bigger ones have
long switchbacks that dip down, cross the valley at a smaller section, and
then wind their way back up the other side. The views afforded are sometime
spectacular of inland stream or on the other side, the ocean waves smacking on
the ground. Kaawalii Gulch was at about 30 miles today, and it had a huge
hairpin turn around. I glided down and snailed up the other side. At the next
gulch traffic was closed in one lane for road repair, but the officer said I
could bike on the coned-off side. I had the whole lane for myself for the two
miles or so.

I frequently curse to myself, or aloud sometimes, at the people who have
thrown their cans or cigarette packages or bottles onto the side of the road.
It's pretty clean here compared to most places, but nothing much ruins a
mellow nature scene like a dented coca-cola can or a squashed Lucky Strike
pack!

By 2pm I had 32 good miles. Was taking a lot of pictures along the way. Wound

up with over 72 digital images by day's end.

The road rolled along. There were fewer hills but they were much longer
climbs. Everything was spread out more now. It was a warm day - guessing into
the lower 80's.

Outside of Hilo by about 7 miles was a special scenic road that was four
miles long. John and Sandra recommended it, so I thought to give it a try.
Just as I rolled onto it, some folks from New York at a fruit stand hailed me
over. They had seen me a few times down the road on the way, and they wanted
to chat. Very nice folks who wanted to help me by introducing me to some of
the fruits they had just bought. In fact, they bought me some apple-bananas -
tiny little banana-looking things packed with super-sized banana taste, and a
leechie nut - a delicious coating underneath a red-spindly casing. The
coating was to be sucked on around a little nut inside. Also, they gave me a
little packet of sugar cane. It will give me energy, Madelaine said.

Broad-smiling Ammon was heading back to New York in a day or so. Masoud, who
was perhaps the grand-dad, Madelaine, and Mina, a 25-something fellow, had
another week here. The little family were bright-eyed and oh, so wanting to
be helpful. They passed me on the scenic little road and I handed them one of
my Ripley's Believe-It-Or-Not articles, with a note telling them how much I
appreciated their friendship. I got a picture of the group, and said I'd
email it to them....

I was a little worried as I continued on my way on the little road. It
wasn't very well kept, water ran over it in parts, and it was increasingly
sharply up and down. But the scenery became more and more interesting and
finally it became the most magnificent of the trip - more like the Hawaiian
travel agent images that had been in my head. Wondrous fanned trees and palms
and others I couldn't pretend to know grew on both sides of me as I sailed
along. Loud water sounds gurgled as rivers and fountains and falls dotted the
view or were invisible because of the foliage. It was.... lush everywhere. At
some of the narrow one-lane bridges people would huddle and look at the
streams and falls below.

At one bridge Paul, a photographer and lifeguard, was taking model shots
of lithe and blond Abigail and Hanna. I lingered there, and we chatted a bit.
Paul, upon finding that I, too, was a photographer and far-flung cyclist to
boot, said that he would have someone contact me about purchasing some of my
images from around the country. I'm not sure I have what he's looking for,
but it was an interesting prospect. I got a couple pictures of him and his
models, and then got his e-mail address. It was a "mac.com" address, and I
expressed happiness about that. I told him how I was a Mac addict of sorts,
and that I was carrying an iBook with me. He quickly laughed his handsome big
broad lifeguard laugh, and said, "Don't tell nobody that!" Then we both
laughed about the fact that I should have whispered it.

I shortly made it up to the main highway again, and within minutes was in
Hilo. The time was 5pm, and with the exception of lunch, I had mostly been
on the bike all day since leaving at 9:15am. I searched around for places to
stay, and finally ended up on the other side of town. It was a Friday night,
and so I was a little concerned for finding a place. I went up to the lady,
and said in a friendly voice, "Well, how lucky am I to have found a room
that's on the first floor (for the bike), and that's a non-smoking room?" She

said, "Not very lucky."

I continued to chat with her a little, and said, with a big
friendly-feeling grin as I usually do in similar situations where things seem
not to be going my way, "Oh, c'mon, I think you'll find that someone has
just cancelled or SOMEthing...." She kept tapping on her computer and
looking at notes, and conferring with the guy who was apparently the
manager... and sure enough, he had just made a change and moved a family to
a different room opening up one of my liking on the first floor.

A seasoned touring cyclist knows it's good to get off the roads early on
Friday and Saturday nights. I was pushing it a little being away from today's
final destination until 6pm.

After getting the key to the room, I headed over to Ken's Pancake House
and had a superb garden burger and a salad and a big glass of pineapple
juice. I brought the slice of apple pie back to the room.

My legs were coated with sun block goo and the road grit from the bigger
miles today. I typed journal notes as long as I could stand the grime, and
then showered long, and carefully peeled the layers of dirt off my legs. I
stayed up waaaay too late typing and reading. It wasn't until midnight (5am,
my REAL time at home!) that I finally tucked in and fell quickly into a
restful, rejuvenating slumber.

I felt that I had racked a good slice out of the map today. And it seemed
that I was surely on or ahead of schedule.
 

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DAY 5
 

March 9, 2002 - Saturday - Day 5
Miles Today - 29 Total Miles - 172
Hilo, HI to Volcano, HI
- Volcano Bed & Breakfast -
 

(Is there a thin line between unnecessary whining, and the telling it
like it is? Would it be giving the reader the wrong impression to omit the
problems and headaches and complications of the day? When people think of
bike riding, they almost always say me (while probably remembering back to
those carefree days of youth on a bike), "Have fun!" A bike tour, as
opposed from just going out and biking around the block, is NOT always fun. I
forever wrestle with how I'll respond to the folks who say, "Have fun!" It
is well meaning after all. Well, it's always fun for me at the end of the
day looking back. It's at least a little fun for me even on those hard days.
I've tried to be at least balanced about my reporting of things. But today,
except for the 'looking back' part, was surely NOT a particularly good
'fun' time!)

It was really a late start. Not sure why - was up around 8am, diddled
around with the computer, had a good run. (Saw a sign reading, CAUTION:
BEWARE OF FALLING COCONUTS AND FRONDS.) I was up waaaay too late last night
on the computer answering e-mails, checking out websites. It was very
enjoyable. In tours past I've gotten stuck in front of the motel room TVs,
but the computer is infinitely better. And a lot of fun for me. Love this
technology.

And now Coz, a friend from home, has put these journal pages up on http://www.joelperlish.blogspot.com
I am most appreciative of Coz, and it was wonderful of him to do this. He has a business of making websites, and I would heartily recommend him.

Finally got out the door at 11am and then headed around the corner to
Ken's Pancake House and had a little oatmeal breakfast. I was in a pretty
grumpy mood for some reason. I was also pretty darned nervous about the day
ahead, and about the late start, and with wondering how the climb would be.
The sign outside the eatery announced 29 miles to volcano, and Josh (with
whom I'm staying tomorrow night) said it would be 85% uphill.
As I said, I was pretty darned nervous, and the morning hustley-bustley
of the restaurant didn't do much to make me feel any more at ease. I didn't
feel much like eating, but forced myself because I was sure I'd need it for
the ride ahead.

You'll remember the ride through the Kohala Mountain Range back on day
three. Well that went up to what? 3,000-some feet. To get to Volcano, I'd be
traveling up to 4,500 some!

It was a very different kind of climb. Not a lot of shadow from
overhanging trees. It was an 85 or so degree day, with bright sun for almost
all day - so it was hotter than the Kohala climbing. The highway wasn't the
two-lane winding through woods variety of the Kohala ride, but this was big
highway all the way. Two or three lanes for the whole 29 miles with 55mph car
and truck traffic beside me. During the Kohala ride there was always a summit
to clear, a little victory here, a little jubilant occasion there.... but
this ride was one looooooong enormous uphill. An uphill so slight at most
points I couldn't even tell I was going up. It reminded me of Alaska in that
manner. The scale was so huge that I was baffled sometimes that I couldn't
move faster! And then when the three or four big hills came, it was like a
snail moving through molasses for me.

If I had it to do over again I would have sent my tent home at a Mailbox
place that I passed on the way out of Hilo. It just doesn't look like this is
the trip for it. Part of the problem (I begrudgingly admit to myself) is that
having more money on this trip than my earlier ones, I feel a little less
inclined to deal with the camping. Also, the campsites are a little less
available. There are NO private campgrounds - the state owns them all. I
explained to someone how you need to get a permit to camp, but whenever I've
wanted to get that permit, the offices were closed. The guy said in a
disparaging tone, well, that's Hawaii. I would say, it's probably more
bureaucracy than Hawaii, but still.... I guess the state just wants to keep
control.

And another reason that the motel/hotel thing was more appealing was
because of the ease of keeping in touch with home via this e-mail stuff. I
miss the camping, and perhaps on a future trip I'll be able to get back to
it....

Passed a mailbox with the name "Ah Sing" on it. Across the street was a
ukulele sales office.

At 2pm I was at 2,500 miles. From the very beginning I was dragging, but
by now I was pretty bushed down to my bottom. Not too good since I only had a
puny amount of miles in.

One of the crazy things about the day: I had been really looking forward
to seeing a volcano today. Well, I passed a town named Mountain View. No big
mountains looming anywhere. No volcano rising dramatically in the distance.
Nothing but the damn road, the sky, the clouds, and the trees. NO VOLCANOES!!
And not even an mountains to speak of. I asked some folks jokingly whether
there WERE any, or whether it was just a pr guy's ploy to get people here. I
was assured that I would see one tomorrow!

At around 2:30 I was making it guardrail to guardrail. It was kind of
pathetic actually, But I had no energy. At one particular guardrail I took
off my sunglasses to wipe the sweat off them, and one of the detachable
plastic arms came off. I heard it fall. And searched methodically on the
ground for it for about fifteen minutes. (It was reminiscent of when a
contact lens fell on my cross-country trip. I searched then, too, and shortly
saw it laying in some mud. The dramatic picture of that lens in the mud on a
windy day is one of my favorites of the 1980 slide show. But the plastic arm
just wasn't to be found among the little branches and worms and dirt. But
eventually I did find the plastic arm - it had stuck onto the bike frame as
it fell!

An old Hawaiian guy walking his dog called over from the other side of
the highway and asked if everything was okay. I said it was. About 100 yards
up the highway I came upon Chuck and his dog, and was happy to stop and chat
with him. Actually, I was happy to stop and rest again.
But he was a very interesting fellow. He began a long interesting
reminiscence of how when he was out of high school, he and a buddy set out on
a bike trip around the island. He told me of some of his adventures in
finding places to stay. And how they didn't get to travel on 10-speeds in
those days. (He smiled when I said how bikes were now 21-speeds!) Chuck was
85 he said, and worked with the Hawaiian Special Olympics. He was a runner,
too, and he said he's in the Senior Olympics, and that he's signed up until
he's 95 - and then with a twinkle in his eye, he allowed that that gave him
special insurance (to live that long!).

I don't know where Chuck lived. The route today was fairly the same all
the way. Nothing but trees, and an occasional open field. No buildings to
speak of. Only one or two little towns with a school perhaps. A general
store, maybe. But all the rest of the miles were pretty much the same. There
could have been whole worlds and communities behind the trees, and I suspect
there were some little knots of homes, but I never saw them. Not that I'd
have noticed much - my head was down most all the way, just watching the
road, and trying with all my (sometimes grunting) effort to keep going.
I wondered if perhaps on a more energetic day, it would have been a much
more enjoyable climb?? In the Appalachians in '82 and '83 I remember seeing
the fearful Grandfather Mountain. Now, THAT'S a mountain! It rises way more
than 3,000 feet in much less distance. It was very steep, but with a good
wind, and a good night's sleep I scaled it both times with surprising ease.
2000 feet elevation at 3pm at 17 miles. I still had 12 miles to go, and
not only didn't I have my customary second wind, I never had the FIRST wind.
Most of the way though I DID have a gentle breeze blowing at my back. When
I'd stop, that breeze would remind me to keep going. It would give me a
not-so-subtle tap on the back as a reminder to move on.
And the grind was relentless, continual, ceaseless, and unforgiving.
Ever up, Ever up. One of the things I thought about was the eventual writing
about this day in the journal, and that I was so sorry I had used all the
descriptives for being so tired on that Kohala ride - because now I was even
more exhausted, but just didn't want to sound as repetitively whiny...
Love those mile markers. I sort of grab on to them and count down the
miles. That started back on the cross-country trip in New Mexico, as I was
coming out of the desert late one day hobbling along with three broken
spokes. I had to get to Buckeye if I had any hopes of getting them fixed. It
was just a little town, but I was hopeful there would be someone there with a
tool to get the rear chairing off. I piled my rear bags onto the handlebar,
and began the mantra, "Come on, Buckeye, come on, Buckeye!" And I counted
down those thirty miles into town as I raced daylight to get there.
2,500 feet elevation at 4pm at 21.5 miles.

Well, I counted down these markers, too. And by the end I was saying
stuff like, "Four miles, there's NO freakin' way I'm not going to be able
to make four miles by dark!!" "Three miles, there's NO freakin' way I'm
not going to be able to make three miles by dark!!" But in the end it a WAS
a close race.

Stopped at one of the maybe two little convenience stores on the way, and
got some juice and some water. (Who would have thought I'd have to buy water
on a tour! Back in '80 in Santa Barbara, I had a picture of me taken with a
machine that dispensed water for a quarter. Man, I laughed. Buying water like
that! I couldn't believe it. Only in California, I thought, would such a
crazy thing occur. Who would imagine such a thing would catch on?
At the one convenience store the young kid checkout guy had a scraggly
Manson-ish beard and haircut around a friendly face. Oh, there was a
piercing between his lower lip and chin, too. His black t-shirt read,
"Pissing Off The Whole Planet - One Person at a Time!" I remarked on the
shirt, and got a digital of it, and he said that it was his weekend shirt.
At around the 25-mile marker the incline got much more intense, and I was
reduced to rolling from sign to sign for rest periods. To make matters worse,
for the only time I can remember (other than last summer's trip when I had a
new seat - which was a really bad one), my butt was hurting on the saddle.
This is something I'm just not used to, and have always been so proud to have
had no trouble in this area. I only admit it here because I want to present a
fair picture of things for you. Because hard butts are a badge of sorts among
cyclists, I probably won't admit it when I get home....

3,000 feet elevation at 4:35 at 24 miles. I was looking at the scorecard
this way: no wind against me, no mechanical problems, no downhill, and no
energy! Even.

3,500 feet elevation at 5:11 at 26 miles. Still 3 miles of ascent to go.
And finally I came to the end. I inquired in an expensive looking lodge,
but they were all filled, or didn't want to deal with me - I was looking
pretty raggedly bad at this point, but the friendly guy in the Hawaiian shirt
called to a B&B nearby.... That became a little adventure, too.
I went to have a little dinner first at a cyber cafe nearby in Volcano
Village.... then went to the B&B (had to make a "left on Wright Street". I
repeated this little bit of funny sounding wording a couple times to the guy,
but he just didn't see anything funny about. I was too tired to explain
it.)... No problem finding it. It was now about 6:30 and getting dark. There
was one of those over-efficient fellows there with a big moustache. He took
my information, knew about the bike, etc. Then told me that my room wasn't
there, but around the corner. My eyes went up about that, because now it was
pretty dusky. I made sure I had the directions right, but by the time I got
there it was dark and I couldn't find the place. I grabbed my trusty
flashlight, but the batteries had just died. I trudged up and down the dark
road a few times, then got out my spare batteries, and found the place. I had
a whole house to myself - but I did have to lug my bike up TWO flights of
long steps.

Mr. Efficiency had told me that it was Hawaiian style at the house, and I
should take my shoes off before entering. But it seemed kinda ludicrous to
have lugged the bike up all that way, wheel it in, and then have to take off
my shoes.

The shower was crappy - finally hot, but low pressure. And that's the
last of my complaints for the day. The place was comfy, spacious, quiet, and
friendly. I was deliciously exhausted and achy, but somewhat in a better mood
than this morning. After the shower, I gave a call to Josh, eagerly typed up
these notes, and then headed for dreamland - early. By 10:30!!!!!.
 

Tomorrow: Volcanoes for sure.
 

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DAY 6
 

March 10, 2002 - Sunday - Day 6
Miles Today - 16 Total Miles - 188
Around the Kilauea Caldera
- Volcano, HI -
 

PLANS CHANGE - AROUND THE RIM OF A VOLCANO -
NEW FRIENDS - THE LITTLE BERRIES BY THE BIG CRATER -
MY 500th(!) DAY OF BICYCLE TOURING
 

Had a great night's sleep, and awoke fairly refreshed at 6ish in the
comfy plush bed.

The bed and breakfast lady came by around 7:15am and brought out a big
plate of eye-appealing and delicious tasting fruits and breads.
It was cooler than at anytime on the trip, and I put on my long sleeved
short.

The day began innocently enough, but big changes were in store for my
plans....

After some rewriting of yesterday's notes, and preparing them for sending
I put in some computer time with new e-mails to read and answer. Then I was
on my way out the door for a morning run through Volcano.

Hmmm.... had I elected to go left, I'm guessing I'd be writing this in
Naalehu now - some 28 miles away - for that was the day's plan. I was going
to circle the Kilauea Caldera and then head to Josh's place. But it was not
to be, for I turned right out the driveway of the B&B and headed up the
narrow road. Before I clicked by a quarter-of-a-mile I saw two local folks
working on the roadside. A middle-aged man and a woman. They were cleaning
out the weeds or something from the roadside. I cheeried a "good-morning" in
my usual friendly way, but as I was going by the woman, I noticed she had a
white cast on her arm. Well, I was a little reluctant after my episode with
Joel the bike store fellow, but I went ahead anyway, and gave my usual,
"Yikes, what happened to you? Skateboarding?" She laughed, and began to tell
me the story of her carpel tunnel problem, that they had to cut the tendons,
and so on... I stopped and listened, and the twinkle in her eye told me she
was a friendly person who I'd like to get to know. I said that I was in the
B&B just down the lane, and she said, "Well, you could have stayed here for
nothing." She asked where I was from and I told her Philadelphia. Realizing
I was so far from home, this warm-hearted lady instinctively gave me a good
hug. (Well, as good a hug as she could muster with an arm in a cast!) I told
her about my trip, and that this was my 50th state and all. She wanted me to
run FOR her, since she couldn't because of her arm.

I told the two how I had ridden all this way and I hadn't seen any
volcano yet. "Is this some kind of ad man's trick?" I asked with a joking
manner. Lei laughed, and then looked me right in the eye, and said, "We're
ON the volcano!!!"

Thinking about that later, I felt like the blind man feeling parts of the
elephant - at no one part can he tell what he's really touching. I had much
more respect for the ground and the area around me after Lei said that.
We chatted some more, I got their picture and promised to e-mail them,
and then she invited me to come back after I was done running - and I agreed.
The run was a little longer than most - and I was feeling pretty darn
good. It was a circle, and that could have caused problems since I didn't
know the area. Usually the runs are out-and-backs... I was just getting
worried about being lost when the right street appeared.

I cleaned up pretty good around the great B&B house, put the finishing
touches on yesterday's notes, e-mailed them, gathered all my stuff together,
took some of the bags down the long outside stairway, did a double check of
all the rooms, then left the tip, and went out and locked the door. And then
took the bike down those many steps.

I wheeled the bike to Dennis and Lei's place around 11am, and she had a
big spread of lunch ready for me. It was in her spacious garden. She showed
me all around the garden, and it was impressive. Even a ginkgo tree! (In the
register of the town she said.)

Seems they let people stay at the house for free. A pretty friendly
gesture I'd say. I thought to myself and then said aloud, 'Well, this yard
looks like a perfect spot for my tent....' Lei said, "Oh, no, you could
just stay in the house." But then I explained how I'd been wanting to camp
out and this would be the perfect opportunity. I could circle the crater and
then just come back here. She seemed delighted at the prospect, and embraced
it.

Dennis went to get some peanut butter, and then we settled in for a nice
lunch and chat about things in general, things specific, and our lives. Seems
Lei works as a line splicer for the phone company and they were picking up
the tab for her operation totally. She has one year and 7 months to
retirement. She has a couple of daughters, one who travels Hawaii and the
mainland selling Rubbermaid products. She loves to garden and work around
this house - they have another in Hilo - and she's trying to bring the
grounds back to it's natural state. One of her foes in the garden was the
purple-flowered peekochino plant from Australia. It was really overrunning
the other plants. There were orchids of various types, and all kinds of other
floral types that would make a gardener drool. A big rooster kept walking
around and Lei or Dennis would call it's name. Had it for quite awhile they
said - too big to worry about the Hawaiian hawks now.

Lei confirmed for me what a reader e-mailed to me, that the rooster
houses and roosters I had seen earlier on the ride were fighting roosters,
raised and brought over by the Filipino folks who are into that awful stuff.
During lunch I mentioned about my poetry memorization, and asked if Lei
had any favorite poems. Sure enough Casey at the Bat was one, and I gave them
a great rendition. I like doing that entertaining for a meal bit! And by
their smiles I could tell they surely enjoyed it.

Shortly a friend of theirs came by. A tall guy with a great grin. He was
saying good-bye for the week as he was taking his 6-year old grand-daughter
to Vegas. "To teach her all about gambling?" I asked with a laugh. And that
brought laughter around the table, and then he asked how I happened by....
And I got some chuckles from everyone when I recounted, with a twinkle in my
eye, and somewhat apocryphally how I jogged by, saw a man and a woman
working, and the man was making the woman in the cast do all the heavy work,
and I was going to speak to him about that....."

I got on my way to the rim at around 2pm. It was only a mile or so away.
I paid the $5 bicyclist's entry fee into the National Park, and made my way
to the visitor's center. Poked around there a bit, and had to put my bike
OUTSIDE the doorway. Man, were they fussy there! (The lady said, 'What if
everyone wanted to bring a bike inside?' I really hate that kind of argument
in general, but now specifically when when there are no other bikes around
for miles! I interjected, before she could say anything else, "Well, that
would be great!") But, in the end, I put it by the front door. I asked if
she'd be there to watch it, she said, "Yes, but NO guarantees!" I chuckled,
and went into the little theater to watch the slick 20-minute presentation
about the Hawaiian volcanoes. Pretty darn amazing stuff!! I didn't know a
new island was forming to the east of the Big Island! Or that lava can flow
at 35 miles per hour! There was a lot of other stuff I learned, too.

Outside on the Visitor Center porch I made conversation with a number of
folks. I got a photo of one guys cute t-shirt, "Make Coffee - Not War!" The
couple was from Montana, and the wife was a geologist. You must be in heaven
here, I said, and she concurred with a huge smile.

Ever since I was a kid and saw a movie where a big dinosaur came tromping
out of a volcano, I've always thought that those cone mountains and the lava
and all were pretty nifty. So it was with great excitement I came out of the
visitor center collected my bike and then rode to the right to begin an
11-mile ride around the circumference of the Kilauea Caldera. A number of
times Josh had described this 11-miles as a "mellow" ride, and I was hoping
he was meaning level and easy. I began around at 2:30pm. In fact, there were
a few up and downs, but it was "mellow".

After about a mile or two I came to the first of the steam vents. Some
were larger and closer to the road and had metal fences around them. As I
rode up I deadpanned to some other tourists there, "What? is there a subway
down there?" Well, they must have been from somewhere where they don't know
what the hell a subway is, because I got no reaction whatsoever!

I continued on around the loop. I noted the sky off to my right. Man, was
it dramatic! The white clouds in that half of the sky had given way to rain
clouds - heading my way. I could see the showers coming down as the billowy
grey giants ebbed across the plain to the mountain where I was standing. Just
to the right of the storm, it was clear blue with cotton-like puffy clouds. A
very dramatic division in the weather pattern.

Shortly I came to the Jagger Museum and a great view of the crater. There
were many tourists there taking pictures and gaping at the hole in the
ground. The muddy-like HUGE hole in the ground - steam rising in various
parts of the area. I mutteringly joked with quite a number of people, "All
I'm thinking is 'DON'T BLOW NOW'.... It always got a (perhaps somewhat
nervous) laugh...

Truth to tell, I was a little nervous. What awesome forces beneath! TV
images from recent volcano blasts, and the stories here on the museum walls,
were enough to give one pause. I mean one giant POOF! And the area is an ash.
One belch of the Goddess Pele, and everyone within miles is a cinder. One
burp or hiccup under the crust of the planet and.... well, you get the
idea... Believe you me, I walked as lightly as I could....

Continuing around the loop were various sections of the caldera which
comprised a number of craters..... some areas looked like moonscapes of black
rock tortured and twisted into maniacal shapes. Some areas had markings of
the lava flows that noted their various years of eruption. For about 100
yards in one section the smell of sulfur wafted over to me and made me gag.
And some areas resembled pressure cookers unleashed... steam vapor rising to
meet the sky in a wild dance... the feathery plumes disappearing into the
atmosphere.

I've biked by some fabulous places over the years. This place was most
remindful of one of my favorites, Old Faithful in Yellowstone. Although the
Grand Canyon is far and away the most spectacular spot on earth, Old Faithful
is one that I got to by bicycle. The spume from that hole in the earth, and
the morning mist swirling around it evoked power and beauty in one delightful
exclamation mark!

The volcano hole and associated scenes made for wonderful images in my
digital camera. I took over 100 pictures.... But my favorite scene of the
whole 11-mile ride around was by an edge of one of the giant craters. There
was a little teeny-weenie bush, not an inch or so tall, and on the bush were
four of the brightest of bright red and teensy-weeniest of berries! They
looked a grand contrast with the barren and bleak surroundings. They were
hope in the midst of torment. And they brightened, if even only for an inch
or two, the black and white and grey world that went on infinitely around
them.

I concluded the loop around 4:30pm and had felt happy to have made the
trip. It seemed like more than a million years ago since I had come across
Dennis and Lei on my little jog this morning while they were gardening in the
lane in front of their house. And, in a sense, after circling the caldera,
and it's eons of lava-bubbling history, I HAD passed through millions of
years since I had met them.

I cycled back toward Volcano Village. Well, actually coasted back as it
was mostly downhill. I saw three high schoolers chatting across the street
from the Volcano General Store. One was on a bike so I rolled over to the
trio. The two girls were in fatigues and said they lived on the island, and
the curly headed guy had just moved there three months ago from Tucson. (Oh
yes, I remember Tucson - I couldn't find a place to stay back in '80, and
was headed out into the desert at 9pm planning to ride through the night if
need be. But a couple teenagers in a truck stopped me on the way out, saying
they had seen me back 75 miles or so ago. I told them about my problem, and
they said I could stay in their garage. Saved!)

I asked these Volcano residents if there was anything worthwhile in the
store, and one of the girls said that there were the most giant and delicious
chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies there. I said, "Uh-oh, I hope they are
almost out of them or I'm in trouble." But I went over and got four, and a
strawberry all-fruit frozen popsicle thing that I had been looking for over
the whole island. I took three of the giant cookies over to the kids across
the way, and gave them each one, and then went back to the porch of the store
where I sat and munched happily on my superbly delicious cookie and the ice
pop. Oh, and on the second step when I went back to the store I found $15
laying there.....

Sitting there was reminiscent of my stop at a big hotel porch at the
beginning of my cross-country trip in 1980 - somewhere below San Francisco.
It was an old hotel, and I sat watching the people walk by while leaning back
in my red Coast-to-Coast jacket and in my dungarees eating my peanut butter
and jelly sandwiches. One couple stopped and talked to me, and said if I
could make it the 60 miles or so to their home further south in Santa Cruz I
could stay with them. The guy had a voice just like Jimmy Stewart's, and the
woman talked about their friend Ronnie Reagan, and what a good president he'd
make. She was an artist of some renown she said.... and it wasn't more than a
couple years later while in a McDonalds near home that I got chills when I
recognized the distinctive flower print scene hanging on the eatery's walls.
I walked up to it, and sure enough, it was signed by my friend Dottie Saar
from California.

I made my way back to the Lei and Dennis' place. They had gone back to
their home in Hilo, leaving me, a complete stranger, to their weekend place.
Have the run of it she said. Use the washing machine and dryer, the
television, anything you want. Amazing.

I got myself settled into the house with all my gear. I had set up the
tent earlier in the day to the amusement of my host and hostess. I got wash
done, and e-mails checked. I learned that my pal Coz had now even put images
up on the site. (http://joelperlish.blogspot.com).

When it was time to go into the tent though, I had discovered that it had
rained bit earlier while I was in the house. So the tent was wet as I hadn't
put the fly on - so I disappointedly went back in the house and curled up in
my sleeping bag on one of the little beds in the back room.
 

Counting all 22 trips since 1980, today marked my 500th touring day.
That's from that first day when I had put my bike together in the San
Francisco airport, and rode south, to this day, when I circled an Hawaiian
crater. It's now way more than a year of my life on the road. It's an
emotional thing for me to think about that as I sit here typing my little
heart out about it. It's been an amazingly gratifying and wonderfully
uplifting way to see this part of our world and to meet the people in it.
It's been a fun way to not only see nature at work, but also to be a part of
nature, and at times BE nature as well.
And I've been happy to take you along for some of the ride.
 

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DAY 7
 

March 11, 2002 - Monday - Day 7
Miles Today - 31 Total Miles - 219
Volcano, HI to Naalehu, HI
- At Josh's A-frame Beach Place -

FROM THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN TO THE SEASIDE -
- A LITTLE PIECE OF PARADISE -
 

This is the way most tour days are begun: after I'm sure I've got
everything, that I haven't left a thing behind, the bike is wheeled to the
roadside, the odometer is reset, and a new day begins.

One of the favorite things I've done while biking along through all the
states is notice license plates. Here though, every single plate is an
Hawaiian plate! That's not surprising once you think about it I guess. And
I've not seen one vanity plate - wonder if they allow that here? Oh, and
also, it seems that almost every plate begins with an "H".....

Have gotten a lot of nice notes about the journals I've been sending out.
But then again, I don't suppose those that I've put to sleep are still here
anyway... But it's been a big part of this trip for me to share it with you
who are still along for the ride. One guy wrote me that it's like being on a
back seat riding along. Hope the journey hasn't been too bumpy for you....
As I wheeled out onto one of the main roads this morning I noticed that
the local eatery was named "JP's Volcano Cafe". Makes me wish I had stopped
there for dinner last night....

After a stop at the General Store for another one of those superb giant
macadamia nut cookies, I went to the post office, boxed up my tent and ground
mat, and sent them home. It put me in a grumpier mood doing so. I wrestled
with those grumpy thoughts for quite awhile after. It was a little lessening
of independence sending that tent back. It was the final admitting there was
going to be no camping this trip. It was the hoping against hope that I would
not be sorry for doing it. But a bike tour is all about making those kind of
decisions I guess - even more so than daily life. And one just has to live
with the consequences of those decisions.... It would be a good 12-15 pounds
off the back of my bike.
 

(click here for a picture of the loaded tour bike)
 

I thought about that, and figured even though I was
in pretty good shape, I still weighed 12-15 pounds more than at most times in
my biking career. I wished I could shed that weight as easily as I did the
tent!!!

I was looking forward to the 28-mile downhill today. One of my original
thoughts was to go to that mountain on Maui which has a loooong downhill.
They truck you up there at 3 in the morning to see the sunrise, and then you
ride down. Sounds pretty romantic and terrific, but I did some investigating,
and it seems you HAVE to ride with the group, that you HAVE to ride on one of
their bikes, and you also have to wait for everyone in the group before going
on which is in stages. Now that didn't sound very appealing to me, and so I
was happy to have elected not to do it.

The crest was 4,024 feet and reached it at 12:09pm at my 4th mile of the
day. I was expecting that after that all would be gravy. It wasn't quite, but
close.

A bunch of bikers were passing me the other way. I engaged in
conversation with some of them. Seems they were with Wheeling Hawaii and were
circling the island the opposite way I was doing it. It was a good van
supported group. At least they weren't the REAL wussy types that take people
to the top of a hill and pick them up at the bottom. I was on the way down
with the wind at my back, so I had the luxury of stopping and chatting with a
number of riders - a couple 60ish women, one from Evergreen,CO, - were riding
and pretty near the back of the pack. I said they could use their
conversation with me as an excuse for being late up the hill. For a $1000 the
company sets up the campsites and provides a couple meals for the day, and
makes sure there is van support on the roads. I've done one van supported
ride (550 miles across Pennsylvania in '99), and so I've been on both sides.
Both have advantages, but as I said to the women, it was tough for me
watching senior citizens and obese people passing me on the ride... There's
also that loss of being able to make ones own decisions about things. Still,
there's that security which is missing on a solo tour... Of course, that
excitement of not having the security is gone, too....

After about ten minutes the women, who referred to themselves as "genuinely

old people" started off up the mountain. They said their nickname was the
"Slowly rollers."

There were quite a number of bigger tour busses and also smaller coach
companies that trucked people up to the craters. I'd give a friendly wave to
the driver as they'd pass. I can only imagine the comments in the comfy
busses at seeing the sweaty biker. (Actually, I DON'T have to imagine. After
one of my western trips, my wife at the time wanted to take a bus tour out
that way. I enjoyed seeing some of the sights but it was torture for me in
the stinky cramped bus. And when we'd pass the bikers on the road, I was
drawn to them and wanted to be out there. It was very difficult for me.)
At 12:20, at the mile marker 31, it seemed to be the true beginning of
the hill, I paused for quite awhile, ready to savor the coming descent.
For a good bit of the downhill ride I was moving along at 25-30 miles per
hour. The wind was screaming me in the face, having had turned for a time
against me, but still I streaked down pretty swiftly. At times though it
appeared to me that I was coming to a halt, but a look at the odometer still
showed 15-20!

Almost magically, as I crossed over 22 miles, the seashore appeared ahead
and to the left. It was a grand shoreline.

A steep descent was in front of me then.... and I closed my eyes (not for
too long), and drew in deep breaths of cool sea/forest air into my nostrils
and my mouth, and I smiled with the delight of the free-fall.... And as I
streaked downward, downward on this particular run, gaggles of birds at
occasional random locations spring out of the roadside and scattered into the
sky.... cool!

I got to the bottom eventually, of course, and then there was pedaling
stuff again. What's THAT all about???

Then I came to the appointed left off the main road, and for the first
time on the ride, I swooped down to the shoreline - and at a blistering speed.
And here I abruptly came to perhaps the most picturesque little cove in
the entire world. Picture postcard perfect. THIS is the stuff the travel
agents pander on about! It was a black sand beach with blue waves lapping the
shore. It curved around gently to the right from the moderately high
tree-capped cliffs on the left. Even I, not a water person by any means, was
left practically drop-jawed and drooling at the sight. It was the kind of
sight that evokes thoughts of paradise - with the squawking birds flying by,
and the palm trees in clusters smoothly towering toward the puffed clouds set
in the azure blue sky. And the warmth of the sun - and the bluest of blue
Pacific Ocean stretching out toward the misty horizon. A dog barking in the
background, the occasional couple strolling hand-in-hand on the black beach.
A little shack selling candy and postcards. Little kids trolloping on the
sand, smiles abundant and free.

To my right and back a bit was a huge A-frame home. It looked like the
home of some millionaire - who else could have a place set-back so perfectly,
and a beach home so gorgeously set into the shoreline? But it was the only
one around, and that's where Josh had said his rented place would be. I asked
at the little stand, and sure enough that was his place. It was about 3, and
I walked my bike over to the place. (Reluctantly leaving the beach, afraid
perhaps, that if I blinked, the little piece of paradise would disappear.)
A sliding glass door was open at the top. I walked up calling out. No
answer. I didn't expect Josh there, but because of the open door I thought
someone would be there. But only the big gentle giant of a dog Josh said to
expect was there. And then I found a note in the kitchen, affirming that I
was, indeed, in the right place.

I brought my bike up to long stairway to the house-long balcony that
faced the shoreline, and then took stuff into the appointed bedroom. And
marveled at the place, the kind breezes, the now eye-level palms and coconuts.
I went out and sat on a little chair on the lawn and typed some notes -
eying the hammock which I was sure to try out (and perhaps nap on) at another
time.

Josh came back from his doctor duties at the little hospital nearby
around 5ish. He is a 32 year-old-guy with a little ponytail who is a runner.
A friend back home, who's dad was a wonderful doctor, knew Josh's family,
and had kept in touch. That's how I came to be here.)

He's a relatively laid back guy - and he has written a book, he said, and
hopes that it will hit big on the market so he can retire in a few years.
Until then he is busy being the only doctor at the little hospital and having
to deal with being constantly on call. But it's helping to pay back his huge
medical education loans, and there are certain perks to being the doctor in
town. He has other aspirations perhaps, though, and so he's not sure how long
he'll stay here. But he admitted that it was sure a grand place to be.
I'll say! He has a lot of parties at the house, he said. And a lot of
friends who stay over. Despite his other yearnings, and some complaints about
being on call so much, he seemed very happy here, and knew he was into a good
thing. Josh told me how Hawaii is one of only four places in the
United States considered Frontier - meaning by definition that there is less
than four people per square mile. He said that although there is no work
here, and that the food is expensive, it's very cheap to buy really good
location land and build here. I was amazed when he said how his rent for this
place was only $500/month.

Whiskey is Josh's pal - a 130 pound Rhodesian ridgeback dog. The breed is
know as lionhunters. It's a mammothly big dog. Not being a dog person, I was
put off each time he came up and rubbed his nose against me, my little
protestations notwithstanding. But basically he left me alone. I got some
nice shots of Whiskey as he propped himself up in the big easy chair by the
main window to the sea - alternately enjoying the view and looking
disdainfully at me.

I WAS a bit annoyed about the tent being gone, by-the-way, because this
would have been a perfect spot for it.
Josh made a delicious pasta dinner for us, and we chatted about things
near and far. We had a lot in common. And he was really into scrabble. I took
my Palm Pilot out and challenged him to play the Scrabble version on it. He
lost the first game (a program glitch he said, not accepting one of his
words), but he beat it handily the second time. Perhaps that was a program
glitch, too, he allowed.

The idea hatched in my head to stay here an extra day, and then make it
all the way back to Kona on Thursday. It would be about 70 miles with only a
few hard spots. Josh was amenable to the idea. It's touring good sense to
take a true rest day every seven days or so, and so it worked out perfectly.
And besides, I could just see myself on that hammock under the palms tomorrow
typing in the iBook, reflecting on the adventures past, and dreaming of the
ones still to come. The sweet ocean breezes wafting over me so gently. So
gently....
 

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DAY 8
 

March 12, 2002 - Tuesday - Day 8
Miles Today - 1 Total Miles - 220
Rest Day in Naalehu,HI
- At Josh's A-frame Beach Place -
 

Anyone who knows me just knows it's hard for me to sit still. Yet, here I
was in the middle of a piece of paradise, and I just HAD to make myself stay
put.

The day started early enough. Josh was up as he said he would be at 5am.
I rumbled awake in the back room at around 6ish. I got to chat with the guy a
little in front of the ever-on TV which was bringing him up to date on the
latest awful news from around the world. We talked about a few topical
things, and I got his read on some of them. He said he hadn't seen an AIDS
case since he came here a few years ago. And he allowed as to how doctors who
get TOO emotionally involved with patients would end up in the loony bin.
(Not an exact quote, but close enough.)

There were some things to do... I got a mile run and a mile bike ride in
early, and enjoyed them both. Got some swell pictures along the way on both
treks. Felt good. On the run, I traveled down the beach road to a couple
trails that meandered down by rocks at the sea's edge. Golden dappled blue little

pools formed there and the waves lapping into them made a great scene. I
used my digital camera to take some mpeg movie scenes. One of which I
e-mailed back to those on the list. (Quite a number of folks let me know the
movie looked grand, but I had quite a few that were returned to me as
"undeliverable" to the given email address.) Then I worked my way back to
the black sand beach. Some tourists were there now. (About the only flaw in
this place is that big tour busses frequently come by to stink up the air and
the views.)

Then around 10am or so I plunked myself down clumsily on the big hammock
with the iBook, a pair of binoculars, and my camera. For the next hour or so
I crafted out yesterday's journal notes. At one point I heard a huge
whooshing "KER-THUMP", and sure enough, a coconut had crashed to the earth
not far away.... the breezes were constant and sweet all day long.

When I was happy with the entry, I made my way back to the house, climbed
the wooden stairway to the long balcony, came in, and e-mailed the notes.
After a little more on-line time, I called Lei and Dennis for about the third
time, and this time finally got them at home. Her arm was bothering her she
said. She was glad I called and had left the messages, because, as she said,
she's "a little mother hen." She promised me again that she would learn how
to download the images that I would be sending her.

I had a few goals today: wash the dishes from the meal Josh and I had
last night, sit in the hammock and write the journal notes, take a long walk
around the beach and out to the end of the inlet and get a massage if that
could be worked out. And finally, I wanted to carefully go through all my
bags and jettison all but that which was absolutely necessary for the flash
to the finish to Kona tomorrow.

The latter I accomplished in little spurts throughout the day - and by
nightfall I had about an 8-lb bag for Josh to mail home for me. I got the
dishes done in the early afternoon. And I made a call and found a massage
therapist who would come to the house at 2:30pm. I also got a little wash
done, and hanged it in a great breezy area underneath the house.

I left for my walk at about 12:30pm. I crossed the beach to the left and
went toward the far corner of the little inlet. Along the way, I saw the
signs that read about "Do Not Disturb the Resting Turtles"... And sure
enough a gigantic turtle, about the size of a big microwave oven was laying
there at water's edge. I took a couple of pictures, but he didn't seem too
interested in me. In fact, he hardly moved at all.... resting, as the sign
said, I supposed.

As I walked, the black sand quickly turned to thumb-sized pebbles, then
fist-sized rocks, then breadbox-sized boulders... and then I crossed a
football field-sized plain of these rocks to get to the higher elevation
where the piled-high stones were even bigger. It was tough walking and I was
careful about my balance. Josh had told me how he had seen one of those rocks
slice through someone's full boot. I was wearing my running shoes, and they
were taking a beating, that's for sure.

I finally reached pretty much the edge of that scrabbly field of block
rocks (although in fact, to my left it went on for many many acres!) and I
perched there to watch the big waves plume on the shoreline. I also had a
grand view back toward the black beach, the green plateau behind the beach,
and then the grey-cloud enshrouded mountains behind the plateau.... It was a
dandy vista!

I spied through my binoculars the whole of the surroundings. And as I was
scanning the beach, there was a little kid of about 5 ambling along - and
halfway across the sand, he put his little yellow bucket over his head, and
continued to walk....

I panned my binoculars way out there over the rim of the Pacific horizon,
and you know, I think that anyone who would paddle out there would just fall
off the edge.

I sat for awhile drinking it all in, and thinking, and savoring the
moment, and taking pictures. One had to be really careful not to drop
anything small. For it would surely fall between the rocks and drop well
beyond any possible reach.... And then I headed back to the beach. It wasn't
easy going - and I missed the trail a few times, but luckily made my way back
okay. There was a woman laying on a towel with blood on her legs from a fall,
and she asked me about my biking shirt, which read "Tour of America" and
asked me if I was on such a tour. I told her about the trip and then the two
guys she was with, one of whom was her husband, came out of the water, and
were fascinated about the bike ride. He had ridden in the a MS150 charity
ride recently. One of the guys had me autograph his racing shirt for him.
(I think it was some kind of NASCAR shirt. )

(Boy, did that take me back to Indianapolis in 1980!!!! I had come
into the city around the time of the Indianapolis 500 time trials in May...
and had gotten it into my head to take a lap around the track with my touring
bike. I made friends with a tow truck operator and got all the way to the
inner circle of the track, meeting drivers and hundreds of people along the
way. I was smack next to the Borg-Warner Trophy and had my picture taken with
it. It must have been a slow day there, but scores of people wanted to meet
the bicyclist who was biking across the country and who had stopped
there. I was interviewed by a local radio station. People were throwing
articles of clothing, beach balls, and various other items at me to sign. The
question I was asked most by the people was, "How many flat tires do you
get?"

The celebrity mayhem was ridiculous and beyond belief, but I enjoyed the
hell out of it, because I knew nothing like this was ever going to happen to
me again.... I got through several levels of bureaucracy, but finally the
track manager turned me down for the lap, saying that if he let me do it,
then "any crackpot or loony" person would want to do it...
But there's a follow-up to that. When I was finally alone from the horde
of people, way down in the bowels of the racetrack, I came upon a fat guy
smoking a cigar. He inquired about me, and I told him about my quest, and
about the amazing day I had... He listened intently, and asked me to wait a
moment while he made a phone call. Well, it turned out he was the PRESIDENT
of the track, and he was going to let me take the lap, but didn't want to
over-rule his track manager who had already turned me down!!! If I had seen
him first he said, I would have been able to do it.)

The folks here at the ocean were from St. Louis, one of my favorite
all-time cities. And I shared with them a couple of my St. Louis stories... In
one story, I had stayed at a frat house back in '80 on my way across the
country, and one of the fellows there worked at Busch Stadium. He knew I'd be
at the Cardinal's game the next night. And sure enough on the scoreboard at
the end of the third inning, it read, "Joel Perlish, who is bicycling across
the country, is attending tonight's game." It was a thrilling moment for me.
Well, I took off my running shoes and socks and I took the plunge to wade
into the water. The stones were sharp at some points and I had to be very
careful. The water was deliciously cool though, and inviting as all get out.
I could see how someone interested in the beach and water would find this
place very attractive to loll around in.

But now I had another worry besides the stones. Who should be prancing
and bounding along the beach but Whiskey, Josh's enormous dog. I must not
have latched the gate well enough. He was dipping into the side pools, going
up and sniffing couples, chasing after birds and ducks, and I was worried
that if there was a dog pound here, he'd be taken away and imprisoned.
I called his name and he came - then ran away - then came and he
variously followed me and led me back to the A-frame where he went up the
steps with no problem, whereupon I made SURE the latch was tight.

Noa, the massage therapist person came at about 2:45pm. She had come up
the stairs, and she said, almost fell back down them when Whiskey startled
her. She set up the table outside beside the house, but insisted that she
wouldn't put it under a palm tree because of the possible coconut-dropping
situation.

Noa, was from Israel and has had quite a life. What a fascinating person!
She lives in the mountains without electricity, and has been here for twenty
years. She's had all kinds of jobs to help support herself and raise her two
kids, both now in their early twenties. In fact, she had been a landscaper
for quite a while and had tended this very yard many years ago.... She was
taking a gamble at now opening a massage place in this little town. When I
asked her how she came to be here in Hawaii, she said it was because of a
toss of a coin. Huh? I asked.... "Yes," she said, "it was either here or
Nepal." And Hawaii had won out. Seems she was at the end of ten years of
hitchhiking all around the world (knows four languages she said), and decided
to settle in either Hawaii or Nepal by the toss of a coin.

Noa hid her late 40ish years well in a slim in-shape body and grand
smile. She had a good manner around the massage table. As I'd peek open my
eyes I could see the palm tree fronds waving off to the side. I could hear
the ocean waves fondling the seacoast, and the breezes lapped over me with a
constant, continual, and unrelenting deliciousness. I said to Noa that when I
thought about how I'd like to die, I've always thought that I'd like to be
jogging by a little stream at 102, and then fall there and pass away. But now
I was reconsidering that, in fact, this might be the way to go - under the
palm trees getting a massage. Not NOW, mind you, but when the time comes....
Josh came back from his hospital stint, and then left just at the end of
the massage. Tuesday was his night in Hilo he said, and he'd be back at 10:30
or so... I came into the house, finished combing through my bags for what
stuff would be left behind, and wondering about those decisions, and then
listened to one of Josh's Thelonius Monk cd's on the iBook - and ripped some
of the tracks onto my hard drive.

I also leafed through the phone book and found a listing for
"McKittrick". I had a student by that name who was Hawaiian, and thought
I'd give it a shot. But no go, the McKittrick in the phone book was no
relation to anyone from back home.

By ten, after reviewing and rewriting these notes, and sending them off
through cyberspace, I was ready for bed. A little nervous about the day to
come tomorrow, and wondering whether the huge tropical storm now pouring
buckets of rain outside would have any effect on my last day of travelling
here in Hawaii.
 

Tomorrow is planned to be the last biking day. It won't be easy, and a
lot of planning has gone towards that day. A straight shot as my return to
Kona which will complete the circle. Probably about 70 miles or so. As part
of the airline package I would be back at the King Kamehameha Hotel there for
Wednesday night.

Then I will have Thursday in Kona (where I'll arrange to have the bike
sent back to my bike shop here at home). I then have to get my butt to the
airport by 6pm. THEN comes the tough part - an all-night flight through San
Francisco, then to Chicago. Big layover there, and I won't get home until 6pm
on Friday night. The next day, on Saturday, I have a double photography shoot
that will go from 11am until midnight!!!! (I'll be remembering that massage
fondly THEN, you can bet!)

And on Sunday.... why, on Sunday, I will rest.
But not for too long....
 

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DAY 9
 

March 13, 2002 - Wednesday - Day 9
Miles Today - 70 Total Miles - 290
Panaluu,HI to Kona,HI
- Completion of Biking Trip -
 

When I went out to run, there were two cute big snails at the bottom of
Josh's back stairway. They were sloooowwwwlllly making their way across the
cement pad there. Reminded me of my biking speed. While jogging I noticed
some snails that didn't quite make it across the road. Ugh.

I left right at 8am! I was glad that I could parallel the ocean for
awhile before making my way up to the big road, Route 11. Nice views, and
also in this way I could avoid that steep incline on which I came down to the
beach area. I passed one of the few condominiums in that area, Sea Mountain
at Panaluu. The golf course was lush. (Did you know, by-the-way, that though
they are green, golf courses are the very WORST ecological offenders? All the
chemicals that they put into the ground to make the course leeches into the
soil and does a real bad number on old mother earth.)

About 6 miles out, the views to the left for me are full Pacific Ocean.
Much of the day I am cheated of any pictures because of the haze. But I have
some good shots in the morning from high up on the bluffs and overlooks. A
road crew guy is there moving traffic to one side, and I say to him, "Man,
you look out there and you can see San Francisco!" He did a cute jump-around
mock double take that gave me a laugh.

And believe it or not, at 6.5 miles out there, hanging from a cliff on
the right side of the road was a big cactus! It was the first I'd seen since
the Kohala Mountain Range so many days ago.

I wound along roadsides etched in the coastline for awhile. Many of the
roads followed up huge hills and left me gasping in the hot morning air. I
did the best job of the trip hydrating today. I bought water, and bought into
the myth of the sports drinks today purchasing a bottle of that, too, at
every stop. I drank a lot throughout the day. And though it was in the
mid-80's I was never thirsty.

Some days on this tour I took the little successes in the mileage. But
today I elected to keep track of each hour. I knew it would be a long day,
and it helped me to keep things in perspective.

The 9 o'clock watch beep found me at 7 miles out for the first hour.
There were many hills in this hour, and the views were grand of the deep blue
ocean from left horizon to right horizon. At times, little inlets could be
seen, snuggling against the coastline. I felt pretty energetic and good, what
with the off day, and the lighter load.

And as I reached onto ten miles I had a pretty darn frisky tailwind
pushing me along. It was tough going with the hills, even with less to carry
and the rest day behind me. But I couldn't imagine WHAT it would have been
like if a big headwind had been puffing me in the face. Of course, it WOULD
have been cooler. As it was, I had great gobs, and globs, and buckets of
sweat pouring off me.

The 10 o'clock watch chime (two hours) found me at only 10.8 miles as I
continued to snail up the mountainsides. Got a nice thumbs up from a couple
in their car going the other way. That kind of thing really does help get the
adrenalin pumping. Especially on these hills where I'm climbing and climbing
and climbing. During the day, I attacked the hills as much as I could until I
couldn't attack them any longer - hey, it was the last day, what had I to
lose? But after awhile I just had to sink the gears into the granny gear and
slowly grind my way to the top. (For those who don't know: a "granny gear"
is the huge back gear that some bikes have to help make hill climbing
easier. It's a lot slower, but it's easier to crank the pedals.)

The hills today weren't as long as in Volcano by any means, and there
weren't as many as back on the Kohala Mountain Range, but they were surely
steeper than any encountered so far. And they were twistier, so I had to pay
a LOT more attention to the traffic coming and going.

At the 11 o'clock beep (the third hour) I had covered a total of only 16
miles. I was hoping against hope that I had finally reached the top. I had
some down hills and some level stretches, but basically I continued to rise
from sea level. It didn't bother me particularly because I knew that I would
be coming back down to sea level when I reached Kona, and so I kept expecting
good payback for these heavily perspiring ascents.

Almost abruptly at my 18th mile up along the coast, the landscape turned
to lava-rock moonscape again. This lasted for quite a number of miles until
the green returned.

At one of the little convenience stores along the way I was refilling my
supply of sports drink. A big boned blond woman was behind me in line. I
asked her if the hills would ever end. She smiled, and I told her this was
the last day of the trip around the island. She congratulated me, and gave me
a big hug. She then said, "There's a lot of he-man in there." I told her I
didn't really think of it that way, but she insisted. I was embarrassed by
her insistence.

I met a guy outside the store from Vegas who was on vacation. He enjoyed
hearing about the trip. He wanted to know if I'd gotten any press about it
here in Hawaii. I said, no, it was a pretty common thing for a serious
bicyclist to do here. Upon hearing that my total mileage was over 22,500
miles for all the trips, he asked if I had any blisters. My reply was, "Not
anymore!!"

At 22.5 miles at 11:50am I sat down for about five minutes and drank and
ate some of the nuts I had along. My thinking now was that it wouldn't take a
rocket scientist with a calculator to figure that at this pace (about 5mph) i
would be getting in way after dark!!!!

Just north of Oceanview I got some digitals of street and area names
"Leilani." I thought Lei would enjoy them.

At 1 o'clock I rolled over my 34th mile. I suspected that this would pan
out to be about halfway. It was the fifth hour of biking. Which made for a
pathetic 6mph average.

There was a familiar face at an out-of-the-way macadamia nut stand. It
was Tom and his wife Sheila (who was the the geologist from Montana) who I
had met at the Volcano Center. It was great seeing them again. He was the guy
wearing the "Make Coffee, Not War" t-shirt. An affable guy with a great
laugh, we chatted about the coincidence of seeing each other again. Tom had a
expression he would use that I wasn't familiar with - if something was
"cool" or "nifty" he would say it was "really uptown". We talked about a
few things including the need for sunblock on the head (he had forgotten to
put some on after getting out of the water the other day, and was hurting
there....)... We traded some more images!

When I told Tom about the tough biking day, he mentioned that I had come
up 1,500 feet since the Black Sand Beach, and would be headed back down to
sea level again when I reached Kona.

A lot of folks who came by on the highway, where cars passed about every
5-10 minutes or so, would sample the nuts, possibly make a purchase, and then
want to take the friendly sales guy's photo. Seemed odd to me, but I guess
they wanted a picture of a genuine Hawaiian sales person. I asked if he was
on-line so I could send him a picture. He said, no, but his son was, and so I
got a nice portrait of the bushy bearded guy.

We talked about the fact he wasn't on-line. I chided him good naturedly
about it. And he understood that it was the way of the world now. And as I
rolled away I got to thinking how many more sales he could be making on the
internet to places all around the whole big world, instead of just at that
little corner of highway.... Then again, maybe he just likes meeting people.
After about twenty minutes of lingering there, I headed back up the
coast. It's not coastline like much of the California coast where the ocean
is only a few feet away, but it was mostly always in view now albeit
generally a mile or so from the road. Occasionally I'd get a grand panorama.

 
Toward the end was the best view - a little town and the ocean beyond. But
as I said, the haze cheated me out of practically any photos at all today...
The 2pm watch beep (after 6 hours of biking) found me at 31.2 miles.
I startled a really scrawny little white cat that was picking it's way
along the side of the road. He high-tailed it into the thicket there.

At 3pm, after 7 hours of biking, I had gone 48miles. The average had
picked up a bit, and I was enjoying some nice downhill spurts occasionally
now in the afternoon heat. I was also stopping a bit more to rest, and I was
stopping more at little stores to re-up my water and sports drink supply.
Crossed over the 50th mile at 3:15pm with a nice swooping downhill. I was
thinking that there would be 15-20miles left, and I was hoping mightily that
it would be the long-awaited huge downhill that I had been expecting. In fact
for much of the afternoon I went through the "I-hope-this-is-the-last-hill"
mantra...

There is always that wonder what is around the next curve, what is over
that next hill. But when tired, it becomes even more of a push to keep
pedaling.

The 4 o'clock hour watch chime took me by surprise. I was working a big
hill when it went off at 64.3 miles. At eight hours into the day, I had upped
the average to 8mph. It was near the sign that advertised a botanist with the
unlikely name of "A.Greenfield."

And one of the few pictures that I was sorry I didn't stop for was the
place of business named the "Dodo Mortuary."

Shortly past there and in what I hoped were the last ten miles I was
pumping pretty hard coming up a hot hill. An older guy in a straw hat was
walking alongside the road approaching me on the busy highway. He could
surely see I was struggling. I slowed and stopped next to him, and said with
a tired twinkle in my eye, "Go ahead, just push me into the traffic! Put me
out of my misery." He chuckled and said, "Oh don't worry, you have a lot
left in you. You'll make it!" He gave me a pat on the back. It helped.
I made a wrong turn off the main highway. My bike touring sense told me
that I was not on the right road anymore. And I asked a lady coming out of
her driveway where I should be going. She told me, and said with a cautioning
tone, "But it's pretty far." I smiled, said it wasn't far for what I've
been through already. Then I took out my map, and showed her the diagram of
all I did on the island. She looked startled by it all, laughed, and said,
"Congratulations!"

By 5 o'clock (nine hours after leaving this morning) I had reached the
outskirts of Kona. The odometer read 62.5 miles.

I remembered looking down the road on that first day toward where I knew
I'd be coming FROM on the last day. I had that image plastered in my mind for
most of the trip. And then when I reached that pivotal intersection, and
looked back now, it didn't look anything like what I'd remembered.
I went right to the bike shop where I had shipped the bike. I said
proudly to the woman salesperson there, "Well, I'm back." There was that
blank look on her face, of "Just who the hell are you?"
Well, the bike mechanic Jason recollected me, and he said the bike box
was still there waiting for the return shipment.

I went across the street to the Taco Bell and had a little meal, then
tooled around Kona a little. I went through the tourist section, and got off
the bike and walked it through the store areas. I had been looking for a
classy biking shirt that had a picture of a huge volcano on it, found it and
made the purchase. I got a big beach towel with the Hawaiian Islands on it.
Was pleased with the $9.99 price tag, until I saw it around the corner for
$7.99!

I made my way to the hotel by dusk, and checked in. But I was still kinda
excited about the completion of the ride, and tomorrow, and so I took a long
walk through the hotel complex of shops and for a few blocks around.
Tomorrow would be a big day. The bike had to get to the shop to be sent
home, and I had to get to the airport for the same purpose.
I was still incredibly filthy from road grit and sun block. And the shower
felt good as the grime rolled off me and swirled down the drain.
It's always a mixture of delight and depression when the planned
destination is reached, when goals have been met. But I was enjoying the
feeling of success.

Here are some miscellaneous items of interest regarding this Hawaii tour:
 

1. Not a single thing forgotten anywhere, nothing dropped on the road.
That may be a first.

2. NO FLAT TIRES or mechanical problems of any kind.

3. There were four times during this trip when disaster was narrowly
averted:
-- at the Bed and Breakfast at Volcano, the stairway down from the bathroom
had a very low ceiling, and twice I banged my head against it. A little
harder, and I might not have remembered who I was....
-- at Leilani and Dennis', I had an almost misstep on the top of their front
steps, and if I hadn't caught myself in time, it would have been curtains!
-- almost stepping on the arrowhead sharp rock at the beach yesterday.
-- putting my lenses in on this Day 9, walking all the way into another room,
then realizing that my left lens wasn't in... and then seeing it on my thumb!
 

This internet thing is amazing, eh? It allows these travels to be shared
with people near and far - people known and complete strangers from around
the world.

And now the final part of the trip - and knowing that getting home is no
less important than the getting to the start.

Everyone wants to know, "What's next?" Well, there's an old Indian
Trail that slices through the south called the Natchez Trace, and I've had my
eye on that for awhile. Maybe Nova Scotia. I have no interest in biking in
Europe. There is a big group tour that's leaving for a year of bicycling
around the world, but I don't see that in the cards. However, if I've
learned anything about anything, it's that one just never knows. You just
never know.
 

I will keep this journal going until Sunday. A few folks have wondered
how I'll get through that looooong flight home and then the big photo
shooting schedule on Saturday. Also, for Sunday, I'll have something special
I've been working on for awhile.... a rather extensive best and worst list of
these last 22 years of touring.
Until later...
 

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prologue | day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10 | summary

DAY 10
 

March 14, 2002 - Thursday - Day 10
Miles Today - 3 (around Kona)
In Kona, HI

It was a good last day in Hawaii. I took it pretty much easy. Took a
short ride, and got the bike and some other gear over to the bike store. Did
a little browsing through the shopping area and got a few little things. Had
another massage.

During the day I tried not to think about what the 14-hour or so trip
through the night would be like coming back home. I would be starting to fly
at 6:30ish today and not get home, because of time zones, delays in
connections, etc., until 24 hours later!!!!

Had to get to the airport by 4:30pm for the 6:30pm flight to Honolulu.
Long hour-long line waits again. Then had to wait for a couple hours for the
flight to San Francisco. THEN had to wait a couple hours for the flight back
to Philly. I was pretty bleary-eyed. And I didn't have as much luck with
seats this time and it was pretty cramped.
 

HOME AT LAST
 

Well, it was a brutal 14 hours or so flying home. I am exhausted.
Just wanted to get a quick note out to y'all to let you know I got back safely.
I will have another entry in a day or two.
Here's the honest to goodness final image I took in Hawaii - undoctored.
What a sight, eh?
 

P.S. thanks for coming along....
 

FIRST DAY HOME
 

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prologue | day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10 | summary

March 28, 2002-Thursday
 

How can it be possible that it's already two weeks since the end of the
Hawaii bike ride?

I am notorious for not wrapping up journals. I don't know why - maybe I
don't want the trip to end. Maybe I just get caught up with newer projects at
home, and then can't be bothered. But the last day or two of most of my trip
journals go tattered and unfinished.

Furthermore, there is frequently a depression that sets in shortly after
getting back from most tours. I have learned to either accept this or combat
it by immediately beginning other big-time projects.

Faithful readers will recall that the day after getting home from the
long long plane flights - the cramped and uncomfortable and bleary-eyed
details of which I will spare you - I had TWO big photography jobs. The party
receptions stretched from noon on Saturday until past midnight. I survived
the shoots with the help of a friend, and by just taking each hour one at a
time. I got back that night pretty darn weary but happy to have had a camera
in my hands for so long again. Love capturing those Kodak moments....
So, here below is the outline of the last two days. And then I have
listed for you some of the Bests and Worsts of 22 Years of Bicycle Touring. I
worked on that during the Hawaii trip and thought some of you might find it
pretty darn interesting.

Oh, and one more thing... on the big cross-country trip of ten years ago
I had no laptop computer. And all my notes were scribbled down on 8x10 sheets
of paper in my tiny almost legible printing. I have begun the project - of
one day at a time - transcribing those 80 days of notes into typed out pages.
I have referred to that epoch trip many times in this Hawaii journal.
So here's an invitation for you: if you would like to continue your daily
fix of bicycle journal notes and follow the exploits and adventures from
ocean to ocean, let me know ASAP, and I'll put you on the growing list. No
comfy-woozy bed-and-breakfasts or motels in THIS coming story - all grit and
everything rough and tumble and new. It makes a good read. You'd get a
catch-up page (about ten days worth - including the cobweb tattooed minister
story) and then just one journal page a day, as we did with Hawaii. Let me
know as soon as you'd like to start.

It was great having you along for Hawaii. The connection was a wonderful
part of my trip. And if I strung together the occasional sentence with good
words that made you smile, or wince, or wonder about the world.... well then
all the better for it.

Time to move on.... catch you next time around I hope.... my best to you
all.
 

~Joel
 

BIKE-FEVER
-by Joel Perlish
(with apologies to John Masefield's Sea Fever)

I must get out on the roads again, to the lonely road and sky,
And all I ask is my 21-speed, and a map to steer her by;
And the wheels' kick, and the chain's song, and the pedals turning,
And a white haze on the sun's face, and my legs all a-churning.

I must get out on the roads again, for the call of a touring ride
Is a noble call, and a strong call, and one I must abide;
And all I ask is a tailwind to make me feel like flying,
And a bright sun, white clouds, and the birds with their plaintive crying.

I must get out on the roads again, to those wonderful biking days,
To the fresh air, and the warm breeze, and the moon's twinkling rays;
And all I ask is a new-found friend and sleep that is wonderfully deep,
And the memory of miles under my wheel, and memories of smiles to keep.
by Joel Perlish
97-01-01 ©

A FEW MISC. NOTES:
---> Things that can make or break a bike touring day - wind, mechanical
bike problems, the terrain, the cleanliness of the road, the terrain, too
late a start, having problems finding a place to stay.
---> Things that are good to remember as a touring cyclist - remembering
to downshift when stopping,

FACTS AND FIGURES
- I ride a Trek 520 Touring Bike with Blackburn rear racks, and Blackburn
low-rider front racks. The touring bags on the back are Serratus bags (which
I think are the best) and purchased from a mail order place in Canada.

THE BEST AND WORST OF MY 500+ TOURING DAYS
(COVERING 22,500+ MILES)

WORST SMELL - the putrefying badly decomposed buck on the side of the road
outside of Altoona, PA. Tied with that Worst Smell was the aroma coming from
the cattle yards in Kansas. Both in '80 on the cross country trip.

BEST SMELL - the smell of fresh laundry on the line as I pulled out of
Shamokin, PA, also back in '80. And the aroma of chocolate chip cookies baking
- anywhere...

RIDE CLOSEST TO BEING ABORTED - one of the Appalachian Mountain rides where
I had a spoke broken - and a hillbilly metal worker took the delicate
workings of the 21-speed bike wheel and fashioned parts of a clothes hanger
to attach the two halves of the broken spoke. (I rode with it that way for a
number of years!)....
and on one of my west coast rides when my knee busted out and I could
only pedal with one leg - try THAT sometime in the mountains! Well, an
Indian bike store guy gave me a special potion to put on the knee. Finished
up in style.

HARDEST DAY - no question about it - the 60 miles into Oakes, ND, in '91 on
the Winnipeg to Omaha ride. (Totally flat. NOTHING in between start and
finish. Total blasting wind in my face the whole way.)

LONGEST DAY - 116 miles out of the Rockies into Soccoro, NM, in '80.

FAVORITE PLACE BIKED - Oregon Coast in '86.

LEAST FAVORITE PLACE (although pretty damn exciting!) - all the way through
New York City as part of the East Coast section in '88.

MOST IMPRESSIVE PERSON MET - three-way tie: the 80-something fellow I met on
the road, and hooked up with for part of my Seattle to Denver trip in '87 (it
was his third trip in the last 5 years or so!);
the 70's-something bike touring guy from France, Jacques Reynard, I met
on one of my Appalachian rides;
- and the water-planner in Texas who I met on my Philly to Dallas trip in
'82. The fellow claimed to know every word in the dictionary - and after
'testing' him, it appeared he did!

WORST EXPERIENCES WITH A CAR - an impatient driver honking at me on a little
hill in Kansas in '80, and a kid in the south tossing a cardboard glass of
soda at me in '82. Not bad for over 20,000 miles of riding, eh? (Compare
that to the 1000's of folks who have moved over a little for me, the 100's
who have waved and shouted encouragement or lifted thumbs up, and the scores
of folks who tried to hand me money out their car window! Pretty astounding!)

BEST SUNSET - that has to be in 1997 at the Florida Keys!

MOST UNEXPECTED MEETING - I was the farthest I had been away from home at the
time - somewhere around a lake in Oregon. I was looking at license plates
hoping to see a PA plate. I saw one on a van that was parked near this lake.
I pulled over to the cab window, the guy looks out, and says, "Hey, you're
Joel Perlish." It was Glenn Danner who was a hall-mate of mine at Kutztown
College!

STORIES I MOST ENJOY TELLING - (all from the cross country trip) - the drunk
in the desert story, the mobile home in the desert yarn (with all the women
and kids running around), and the time I got THIS CLOSE to taking a lap
around the Indianapolis 500 track on my bike. (The track president would have
allowed it, but the track manager said then, "any kook" would want to do it.)

CLOSEST BRUSH WITH JAIL - being stopped by the Mexican Border Patrol in '80
and being told that I had to go through multiple searches and detained
periods because as a bicyclist, I was "suspicious looking". I could see 20
years in a Mexican prison staring me in the face.

WORST PLACE FOR A FLAT - smack in the middle of the the seven-mile bridge
between Washington and Oregon on Trip 14 in 1995 A busy, truck traffic laden,
two-lane bridge - in the middle of a galing rainstorm! (Hey, I had to fix it
and get on my way.)

PLACE THAT EVOKED THE MOST AWE AND AMAZEMENT - the Escalante Range in Utah in
'93. (Riding across a narrow road, Grand Canyon-type views of house-sized
boulders and rugged terrain out to the horizon everywhere in sight.

WORST ROAD (not including under-construction ones) - the 15 miles or so into
Tuscaloosa, Alabama in '82 on the way to Dallas. Every ten feet there was a
cinderblock-sized groove stretching all the way across the old road. It was
given to me as a shortcut. It took a looooong time.

MOST EXCITING BRUSHES WITH POLICE -

1. Being yelled at by an officer after I
(illegally) crossed the Burlington-Bristol Bridge in '80 near the end of the
ocean-to-ocean journey. Hey, I had crossed the country that far on my bike, I
wasn't about to put it in the trunk of a car then.
2. Being pulled over on the Interstate into St. Louis. I knew I shouldn't
have been there, but it was a much flatter ride. The officer was writing up a
hefty fine for me until I mentioned that I was writing a book about my experience,

after which he just gave me a warning...
3. On one of the Appalachian rides the campsite was too close to the
Appalachian Trail, and a $55 fine ensued. I recall seeing the officers shoes
at the tent door in the morning.

BEST PICNIC AND NAPPING PLACE - High up a huge culvert somewhere outside of
Gaviota, California. I was up with the clouds, my bike far below. It was a
desolate area - and the air was grand, the sky sunny, the view majestic.

WORST ENCOUNTER WITH BUGS - A cabin in Zion Park in '93 - they were infested
into the wood and then thickly blanketed the inside of the place just at
bedtime making it uninhabitable. Ended up sleeping in the tent outside, far
away. The owner wouldn't give me my money back saying in effect, 'You're a
camper, you have to put up with these things.' On top of that, he wanted to
charge me for the camp site, too!!!
Also, the mosquitoes in Minnesota in '85 and in Alaska in 2000.
Also, the billows of gnats that Bob Edwards and I rode through on our
late night ride into Clarkesville in '81.

CLOSEST TO NOT HAVING A PLACE TO STAY - I was riding out of Yuma in '80, late
at night, refusing to stay in a motel, when a kid who had seen me earlier
that day 75 miles or so away, came by in his pickup truck, and said I could
stay in his garage.

HOTTEST DAYS ON THE BIKE - summer of '01 through the northeast. On some of
the mountainous parts, I couldn't get more than five minutes without stopping
and mopping. On the '81 trip to Georgia, the tire treads in the asphalt
showed tracks.

COLDEST TIMES ON A TOUR - in the Rockies in '80. Some folks I was camping
next to had frost on their sleeping bag.

WORST CROSS WIND - riding for a number of miles at a 45-degree angle with
sharp ravines on my right side coming out of Soccoro, New Mexico in '80 on
what I believe was Route 66.

WORST ADVICE - given by a multitude of people, "It's all down hill to
Soccoro!" It wasn't all down hill and nobody mentioned the wind. Hard
pedaling down the hill. And I had been counting on a downhill that day, the
longest of my biking career in a single day.

MOST PATHETIC ANIMAL SIGHT - a big deer with a leg mired in the mud, grunting
to get out but stuck beyond help. Near Perry, FL on the Gulf Coast tour in
1998.

WORST FOG - on one of the Appalachian Mountain rides. The clouds were
crashing into the mountain. As I stood before one giant cloud, the immensity
of it was awing and it slowly, slowly moved toward the mountain peak i was
on. It was so well fully formed that I could reach out and touch it. Touching
a cloud: what an experience!! But then the bulk of it collided with the
steep terrain, and made a wall of fog. I spent another day at my campsite
catching up on postcards.

SLOWEST MOVING OBJECT SEEN ON A TOUR - In '85 from a campsite right on the
banks of the Mississippi I had a wondrous view of the river - and the
barges moved so slowly and smoothly. They were like hour hands... they
hardly seemed to move at all, and then you noticed, after looking away, and
then glancing back, how time tricked you, and movement was there after all.
But like southern drawls, and the ways of many southern folks, the barges
were purposeful & intent. And they were like time itself, forever moving
forward.

MOST TOUCHING DOG STORY - As I was coming out of Dodge City in '80, a whole
PACK of dogs were loping after me. I was worried a little, but they stayed a
good distance. One by one they got tired and left the pack. Until there was
just one dog left, and he followed me for miles and miles and many more
miles. I would stop and turn, and say, 'Shoo'... But he would just look at
me from a little distance, wag his tail, and sit there. I grew attached to
the cute little thing, and had thoughts that he would follow me the whole way
home. But finally, he trailed off, and disappeared. I missed him.

MOST MEMORABLE BRIDGE CROSSINGS - he Golden State Bridge at dusk in '95, the
Louisiana Bridge over the Mississippi in '85 when the police ESCORTED me
across, and that crossing of that 7-mile Astoria bridge in '85 with the flat
in the middle of it during the storm.

ONLY ILLNESS ON A BIKE TRIP - A one day fever on the Across Wisconsin and
Michigan trip in '92. Spent it holed up in a motel. Better the next day.

MOST IMPORTANT ITEM TO HAVE ON A BICYCLE TOUR - beyond a doubt the most
important item to have is toilet paper.

TIME MOST FELT TRANSPORTED BACK TO PREHISTORIC TIMES - that run near the
campsite on the other side of Salt River Canyon. The trees were ancient, the
birds and bird sounds like pterodactyls winging over forest primeval.

BIGGEST UNEXPECTED LAUGH WHILE ON A BIKE - just coming out of that Salt River
Canyon in '80, after a torturously long climb (people were cheering and
trying to hand me money even!), I had just made it to a level area, and I
looked up at one of the very few cars there that went by and there from out
of the back window, three teenagers were mooning me.

THINGS LIKED LEAST ABOUT TOURING - not being able to recycle in a lot of
places. Even in some of the most majestic places, where they should be
conscious of such things, they have no one forward-thinking enough to start a
recycling program.

MOST EMBARRASSING SLIDE SHOW PRESENTATION - A new year's eve presentation
where only one person showed up - my dad. True, it was snowing, and not many
were expected anyway because of the holiday.....

THE BEST BIKE TRIP - Any trip that is the NEXT one.

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Questions?
Just call 610-789-POSE (7673)
Or email me at joelperlish@aol.com