25th(ish) Anniversary Hawaii Adventure: An Oily -- Yet Unforgettable -- Sunrise!

Following Pearl Harbor, our next National Park was to be Haleakala. The island of Maui is comprised of two massive volcanoes, with Haleakala being the far larger one, accounting for 75% of the entire landmass. The summit of Haleakala is now a national park, and the volcano is dormant. The park proper is about 50 square miles, with an excellent road leading up some 10,000 feet from sea level. The summit is actually the top of the volcano's crater, which is seven miles across and more than two miles wide, with a depth of 2,600 feet. The summit is famous for spectacular sunrises and sunsets, with the former getting most of the glory. While planning, we debated long and hard about going for sunset or sunrise, but we decided we had to take advantage of being on the island overnight, and elected to get up early. This trip required advanced planning, as reservations for the sunrise are strictly limited. It was another case of me waiting on the Park Service website until the exact day and hour that tickets were released for this day, and I was able to get them. We noticed, too, at all the parks we visited which required reservations, that they were sincerely trying to cut down on speculation and reselling of tickets. As the reservations themselves only cost $1 each, it appears speculators had been snatching them up in advance and then reselling at a massive profit, or tour companies were reserving blocks of them, hoping to sell tour seats later. For all our reservations on this trip, however, we had to provide ID to match the name on our reservation, or we would have been turned away. We did see lots of people turned away, particularly later on Kauai.

We used our Shaka guide for a narrated tour of the sunrise, and they suggested what time we should get on the road. With the time difference, getting up and off the ship by 4:00am was not overly arduous. Together we walked to the hotel where the Mustang was parked and off we went. I'll note that the parking lot was dark. Had there been light, I highly suspect now we would have seen oil pooling under the vehicle. More on that later.

We literally started to climb up Haleakala as soon as we left the pier area, and we'd eventually reached 10,000 feet. We both dressed as warmly as we could, as we knew it would be close to freezing at the summit. Before we began the climb, Shaka directed us to a supermarket and Starbucks that were supposed to be open by 4:30am, in the last proper town along the way, but alas they were both closed. We later learned it was because of the downturn in tourism from Covid and the fires that they amended their hours. This meant that we had to go without coffee, which was an unpleasant way to start the day.

Needless to say, it was dark the entire ride up. Once we drove above the tree line, we could tell the road was winding up the volcano ahead of us, as we could see the lights of cars ahead of us snaking their way up, back and forth. The road was very well maintained and, not surprisingly, all the traffic was in one direction. I had no sense of elevation or how steep things were, as it was so dark. Only on the way down would I fully appreciate this.

We reached the Ranger station and entry point at about 8,000 feet. We had to show our National Parks Pass and my driver's license, to match up with our advance reservation. As I was talking to the Ranger, she looked down and said, "You have smoke coming out from under your car." As she said that, we both realized that we had been smelling fumes of some sort, but I had assumed it was other cars in the line. I checked my oil pressure and temperature gauges, both of which were fine. She suggested we drive up to the waystation, pull aside, and check it out. Glad that she let us in, and not wanting to miss the sunrise, we elected to drive all the way to the summit. The sun was to rise at 6:10am, and we got there about 5:45am. I walked around the car with my cell-phone flashlight and did not see any smoke. There is an observatory at the summit, so there is no lighting whatsoever, and it was very dark. The smell, however, was still there. I had already been thinking, after the Ranger noted the smoke, that the rock over which I drove the day prior must have punctured something on the undercarriage. There was nothing to do now, so we hiked a short way up to the crater's edge, joined the small crowd, and waited for the sun to rise.

Sun Beginning Its Long Rise Above Haleakala Crater

Reflection in the Visitors' Center Window

Yes, we're in Hawaii, and YES we are COLD!

It was cold, and we were both surprised by the numbers of people who had worn shorts and t-shirts. They did not look comfortable OR happy. It was a festive mood, nonetheless, with lots of excited chatter among those of us waiting, similar to New Year's Eve. The sky slowly brightened and, as there were clouds below us, the sun did not have a sudden eruption. Rather, it was diffused -- and in my opinion -- made more beautiful as the light danced across the crater floor, revealing all of the vibrant colors. Because of the clouds, though, by 6:30, the sun had still not fully cleared the obstruction, and everyone on the organized tours had to leave. Some of the vans, in fact, told their folks to be back on by 6:20, while the others were 6:30. We were very happy to not have such a time restraint and stayed almost until 7:00, also taking time to visit the small Visitors' Center at the summit.

Other Folks Waiting With Us for the Sunrise

Finally Cleared the Clouds

Thoroughly chilled by now, we headed back to the car, which was parked on an incline. In the now bright morning sun, there was a very evident trail of oil (or maybe transmission fluid) running downhill, from under the car. There was no denying now that we had a problem. Though it was literally all downhill from there, I was still worried that the car might give out on me before we got back to the airport, where I planned to swap out the car. We had reservations later in the morning for an early lunch at a cafe famous for their view, but I was anxious to return the car before we had a breakdown.

On the drive down, by the way, I could now see what I had missed on the drive up, in the dark. Namely, wide open views across the entire northern end of the island, and even to two smaller uninhabited islands nearby. I had vertigo at several points along the way, as the lack of vegetation and hairpin curves often made it look like I was going to drive straight off the mountain.

Chief Haleakala Historically Lassoed the Sun's Rays To Slow Its Progression Across the Sky, as His Mother Complained of Not Having Enough Daylight To Complete Her Daily Chores.

As we drew closer to Kahului, we ran into both morning rush hour, but also school traffic. The slowdown, while not extreme, only made me more anxious that the car might die on us. We eventually reached the airport after about 40 minutes (visit #3). I pulled into the Alamo rental area, mindful of what they might say about the undercarriage damage, and whether they'd notice anything on the rear bumper. We had both looked it over and over and could find absolutely nothing, but I still didn't know what they'd see. The man there could not have been nicer. I didn't even have to explain, aside from the fact that the vehicle was leaking fluid. He took the keys, drove it off, and radioed someone else to bring us another convertible ASAP. In about two minutes, a brand-new white Mustang was in front of us, and we were off.

Morning Traffic on Maui

Having missed breakfast AND coffee, we elected to visit an iHop a couple a miles away, to regroup and reflect on the morning. We joked that we could avail ourselves of the 55+ senior discount. Once there, we were clearly the only tourists in the place. Everyone there was local, and it was a nice change of pace. As sign, too, of the prices in Hawaii, as I'm certain most of the locals were there to save money, like us. Problem was, the $4.99 senior breakfast on the mainland was running $12.99 here. A bargain for Hawaii, yes, but telling as to the added cost of most everything having to be shipped to the island. While here, too, we heard a lot of the people speaking Pidgen, which we learned is an indigenous language to Hawaii, which sprouted up as a way for all of the nationalities brought in to work the sugar cane fields to communicate. It is actually Creole based, which fascinates me, and was conducive for folks from East Asia and Europe communicating with each other. It has lots of English sprinkled in, and in a lot of ways sounds like a stereotypical California "surfer dude" dialect at times. Our guide on the Shaka tours would also throw in lots of Pidgen terms from time to time, and we both got pretty good at imitating him.

Katherine had read about a lavender farm close to where we were to have lunch, so we headed there. It was a few thousand feet above sea level, situated on a beautiful hillside with expansive views over the northern side of Maui. They were paragliding from higher up the hill, with folks landing just above the garden's parking lot. It was, it turned out, far more than a lavender farm, with expansive terraced gardens with all sorts of flowers, succulents, and trees. We could have spent hours here, easily. It was definitely a highlight of the trip.

Not a Bad View for the Feral Chickens

Paragliders Landed Just Above the Lavender Farm

Realizing we had yet to take advantage of having a convertible, we lowered the roof for the short drive to the Kula Lodge, where we had made advanced reservations for lunch with a view. When we got there, however, it was closed. We had received an automated text the previous day, reminding us of the reservation. I called that number as we stood outside, and we could hear the unanswered phone ringing inside. There was a gift shop located next door, where a very nice lady told us that we were not the first people to show up for reservations, but that the lodge had been closed since the fires. That struck us as a little odd, but we didn't question further and just shopped a little.

Shaka, Bra!

When we left to head down into town, I followed directions on Waze. They pointed me to a subdivision cut through, but as soon as I turned into the development, it was obvious that we shouldn't be there. Ahead of us, leading down the mountain, there were three or four burned-out homes (and those were just the ones we could see), some sitting right nextdoor to seemingly unaffected houses. As I stopped abruptly, I looked at the house on our right, and I could see that the siding on one side had melted from the heat. This reminded us of a conversation with our Uber driver the previous morning. He was a retired firefighter and he spoke about the devastation in Lihaina, and that he has been counseling some friends, who are current firefighters, who had witnessed the carnage. He mentioned that there had been two fires near Kahului, and he mentioned Kula. It was then that we realized our lunch place was called the Kula Lodge, and we were in the Kula subdivision. In hindsight we suspect the lodge owners were affected by the fires and, seeing how close the fire came, they were lucky too that the lodge itself had been spared.

Damage From Wildfire in Kula

We were a little somber as we backtracked and went back down the ridgeline a different way. We did a little shopping in town before -- you guessed it -- we were back at the airport for visit #4. This time, we again dropped off our Mustang, grabbed an Uber, and headed back to the ship. We cleaned up and enjoyed our now habitual afternoon cocktails on the pool deck, before heading to an early supper in the main dining room. We left port around 6:00pm and headed further south, to the eastern side of Hawaii island, and the town of Hilo. It had been a very long day.