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Have you heard of Port Hadlock?

I spent Saturday and Sunday with Jay’s family in a town I’d been told was “close to Seattle.” When I asked for a more precise point of reference — thinking that perhaps I should see about a shuttle bus from Sea-Tac, seeing as I would be getting in around 1am (see photo above for remarkably quiet Sea-Tac at 1-something on the day after Turkey Day) — Jay told me his peeps could be found in Port Hadlock.

… How’s that?

I didn’t know of Port Hadlock, which would be of little moment if I hadn’t spent 2 1/2 years of my adult(ish) life living in Tacoma, Washington. But how was it possible that Jay’s folks were in some Seattle suburb that I had never heard of??

I felt a little better when I met two Seattle residents (and fellow Cougs) and their daughter (a Husky) in Kona and, upon mentioning this alleged “Port Hadlock” to them, was met with blank stares. I felt immensely better when I Google-mapped Port Hadlock and realized that it’s practically part of Canada.

Port Hadlock is an hour and a lot of change north of Seattle — depending on the ferry schedule. In fact, most of the maps I was able to dig up, like the one posted above, don’t even show Seattle — which I respect, frankly.

As you can see from the photos, Port Hadlock remains pretty unspoiled. A couple of those shots are from the Jay Family Cabin itself, which sits a couple of hundred yards off the Puget Sound and offers unobstructed views of the water and the mountains beyond from its deck (or from just inside its immense, peaked windows). It’s clearly a place people come to in order to have a little land of their own. The houses are reasonably far apart and a number of owners have aggressively posted NO TRESPASSING signs on their lots. —Which is ridiculous because how were Jay and I supposed to walk around at all — other than on the main road — if we didn’t skirt people’s property just a tad? I mean, come on, people. Be reasonable.

While staying with the Family Jay I was treated to the Seattle Underground Tour, which Jay’s dad has been wanting to experience for at least a year, and which was a rollicking good time.

Seattle’s commercial district — now Pioneer Square — was purposely buried. The city’s early buildings were constructed on mudflats and sawdust. The early (non-native) Seattlans, in order to address the frequent problems (such as twice daily flooding) that plagued the city’s lowland structures, decided to fill in the commercial district with mud from the nearby cliffs. Figuring, however, that moving that much mud — enough to raise the entire comercial district 10-15 feet — would take about 10 years, the enterprising Seattlans decided to continue building up the commercial district then available to them — the muddy, sawdusty one — and build the streets up around the buildings. They built retaining walls to separate sidewalks and buildings from the streets, and then started hauling in the mud. Thanks to the retaining walls, the original lower stories and of Pioneer Square buildings dating back to the late nineteenth century are still accessible to tourists, and provide a good (if damp) space for tour guides to spin tales of historic Seattle.

The tour was pretty cool — mostly because our tour guide was charming and intelligent and witty and a little crass. —i.e., a perfect woman. It’s also pretty inexpensive. So you should go. Really.

By the way, I totally made up the word Seattlans. It’s ludicrous. There must be a better word for folks from Seattle, right? —Well, maybe not better.

Duran Duran - Electric Barbarella

Between the creepy Gaslight Club and that ridiculous blow dryer picture, this song seems somehow appropriate.

On bathing out-of-doors

Like many residents of the Big Island, my parents built their home here. The plans were sitting on the dining room table for months while my folks waited for construction to begin and then to finish. (The latter didn’t occur until some time after my parents moved in.)

Among the finest features my folks included in the design of their home is the outdoor shower, featured above, accessible from my parents’ bathroom (which includes your more traditional indoor shower). My father insisted, throughout his final days as a California resident, that, as soon as he was situated in Hawaii, he would never take another indoor shower — an assertion he’s mostly stuck to.

I also attempt to limit my bathing to the outdoors while I’m here. The outdoor shower experience is so wonderful. I wish I could do it all the time. However, Brooklyn does not lend itself to outdoor showership. So, for now, the outdoor shower is a Hawaii-only luxury for me.

On road bikes and volcanoes

On Monday my dad and Jordan and I rented road bikes (and purchased Gu) from Cycle Station — owned and operated by an Ironman and his lady love — and on Tuesday we rode from Keahou (just south of “downtown” Kona) to the Hilton Waikaloa, which is just over 30 miles largely along the Ironman bike route.

It was totally awesome.

First, it was incredibly empowering. I’d never ridden a road bike. I usually take Nancy’s mountain bike out for a couple of rides with my dad while I’m here. Riding a road bike is a completely different experience. I felt so fast and so tireless — although the last 10 miles or so, during which we were beaten by the wind, ate into my drive (and my speed) significantly. I want a road bike. I want to ride it fast and far all the time. I want to ride my bi-cy-cle / I want to ride my biiiiiiiiike!

Second, we had consistently outstanding views once we got on the highway. Our route was bordered on both sides by the lava that comprises the Big Island (and makes it look a bit lunar) . The ocean was beyond that to our left. And looming up ahead of us — sort of Mt. Fuji-like — was the Kohala volcano. It seemed wise and ancient and almost mystical floating there. (I suppose as Hawaii’s oldest volcano it rather has to appear wise and ancient and mystical.)

Third, I love doing active stuff with my family. It’s among my most favoritest things. I place it ahead of beer. And ahead of the martini my brother is making for me even as I type for which I am very thankful.

***

The island of Hawaii is presently composed of five volcanoes: Kohala, Hualalai, Mauna Kea, Mauna Loa and Kilauea. (A sixth is abrewin’ beneath the surface of the ocean and will surface in about 100,000 years.)

Yesterday my dad and I headed up to Mauna Kea (“White Mountain”). Mauna Kea is 33,496 feet tall from its base, making it the tallest mountain on earth. However, because its base is 19,700 feet below sea level, Everest is accorded the title. Mauna Kea is also home to the W.M. Keck Observatory.

To get to the summit from Kona, one travels along the Saddle Road — which was built by the military in 1942 (and has been much improved in recent years) and runs between Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa (along the “saddle” formed by the two). The Saddle Road is in itself an interesting day trip. The landscape along the Saddle Road is wildly different from that of Kona (which is, in turn, wildly different from Hilo and the southern portion of the island; Hawaii boasts 11 of the world’s 13 climate zones). On the way up, one passes into and then out of the clouds. Pretty incredible.

Ideally one goes to Mauna Kea’s summit on a clear day in winter — thereby assuring an incredible and majestic view of the entire world (or, the entire island, and probably Maui) from the mountaintop and a first-hand glimpse of the snow capping the mountain’s peak. (Mauna Loa is also frequently covered with snow in the winter months.) Superideally one goes in time for sunset. I did not have ideal conditions to work with. But it was still pretty impressive.
The landscape up there is outrageous. Just lava upon lava — hills and hills of lava — with no plant life to speak of once you summit (and only very hardy plants on the way up; we did manage to track down a silversword plant, which had been fenced for its own protection). Very lunar with patches of snow here and there. 
The telescopes — and, given our timing, the wreath of clouds — certainly added to the sense that we were walking on the moon. So did the altitude-induced light-headedness and the dearth of humans. It was pretty outstanding. I look forward to heading back when my dad and I have more time for a hike through the snow to the permafrost lake, a romantical sunset view and stargazing with the rangers (which Nancy’s friend Wendy assures me can be had by sunset visitors).
I recommend you do the same.

(Images are, respectively, map of the Hawaii volcanoes, Ironman bike route, Kohala volcano, the Saddle road, the semi doing a K-turn in front of us on the Saddle Road, the Keck telescopes, and the weather on the Saddle Road on our way back to Kona. Most are borrowed.)

Where the wild things are

The plant and animal life of Hawaii is astounding — so many flowers and creatures that you wouldn’t believe existed if they weren’t right before your eyes.

You’ll see above a couple of shots of plants from my folks’ yard. There are much stranger breeds I assure you. Like these and these and these.

I attempted to capture the ENORMOUS CENTIPEDE that hot-footed it right through the front door the other night. You’ll see him under my dad’s flip-flop, curling up in an attempt to sting his attacker. And then you’ll see him wriggling in the tongs my dad used to capture him and put him to a speedy (and, we hope, painless) death in the disposal. Here’s what he’d look like if I’d caught him with a better camera while he wasn’t all awriggle.

Even scarier—  Once when I was here, my stepmom noticed a seemingly squashed scorpion on the slate floor. That is, she barely noticed it since it was slate-colored itself. When she went to throw it away, it moved! It was wafer-thin! We couldn’t believe it hadn’t been inadvertently steamrolled.

Because I know my peeps like geckos, I have attempted repeatedly but without success to capture some gecko footage for you. They are everywhere, but they’re fast and they’re wisely wary. As I learned from my dad and brother yesterday, geckos eat everything they can catch — including each other. (Jordan saw it happen.) I’m not sure how that works out for mating purposes. (Wikipedia — named, incidentally, in half-Hawaiian (wiki wiki means quickly), suggests that some female geckos can reproduce without the aid of their male counterparts.) Regardless, they’re certainly wise to fear approaching humans — even humans lame enough to be taking photos with a BlackBerry.

In any case, if I could catch them, they’d look like this or like this or, if they were babies, like this.

And then, of course, there’s Oscar — demonstrating his need for alone time.

Last night we dined at the Kona Brewing Company, which offers a number of delicious beers — some available from the growler shack out in front of the brewery and even at your local mainland bar or supermarket — as well as pretty tasty pizzas. They also make great T-shirts. Just ask Mary.

As you might have noticed from the photos of Oscar chewing my brother — and anticipated from my earlier Movember posts— Jordan was sporting a moustache that marks him either as a hipster douchebag or a Movember celebrant. The men working the KBC, Movember celebrants themselves, recognized Jordan as one of their own. They’ve printed out Movember business cards (which you can barely read in the flash-light of my BlackBerry camera), and are handing them out to patrons — a move that, unfortunately, isn’t attracting as many donations as they’d hoped.