I’ve long feared the experience, though never with enough conviction to prevent its realization (at least in my mind). The thought of looking upon the earth from such a height with no sturdy barrier between us stirs a powerful sense of vertigo in merely imagined terms, so the potential for the actual experience to be far worse is the only logical stopping point for this train of thought.

It was a great comfort to have the security of a trained professional provided for me. Thinking back, I’m not certain that I possess the courage required to step away from the imagined safety of an aircraft into the imagined safety of a parachute, relying solely on my own conviction to do so. I’m more certain that I would cower at the door, the battle between logic, intent, and rationale raging within my mind until my mind became numb. Comfort here is manifest through being firmly attached to a decision making force not myself; not unlike what I imagine kittens experience when lifted by the scruff of the neck in vicious jaws of flesh-eating death. It’s just nice to know that if you’re going to meet a gruesome fate, at least there’s nothing you could do about it, for better or worse.

And so, I tumbled. The view was spectacular, and the ride exhilarating. The vertigo mentioned was brief, if noticeable at all. Truly, the experience was about as heart stopping as a roller coaster ride. That phrase “You’ll feel a little pinch” comes to mind. I fell from the sky, I lived, and I would do it again.

It has become a daily practice to spend most of the morning laying around. The process of getting out of bed takes about an hour, then breakfast, then sitting in the sun or splashing in the waves. We usually leave around 11, and I can tell you, it feels pretty nice to know we don’t have to be anywhere.

After our daily morning lounge, we packed up the car and headed up the coast to check out some fish. We had spent some time with the guide book, and found a couple of beaches we were interested in checking out north of Lahaina. The target was a bay called Honokahua, though we had heard it’s hit or miss there. It’s rocky on the beach, and gets murky sometimes, though the guide book claims it’s super popular. The backup plan was Napili, which is right nearby and also said to be good. We weren’t able to locate either of those, so we ended up at a third beach entirely. I don’t recall the name, but there wasn’t much to see anyway. We splashed around, spooked the wildlife, got sand in our shorts, and sunburned. It was great.

The frat boys had been talking about a football game most of the day (UW vs. ASU I believe) and had a plan to meet up with some other friends who were arriving and watch the game at a local bar. Sarah and I dropped everyone off at the Westin, and made our way to the next beach to watch more fish instead.

We had just gotten ourselves situated, goggles on, flippers ready, and splashed into the waves, when we found that directly beneath us was a Sea Turtle. There was a flurry of looking at each other and pointing before it started to scurry off. Not wanting to waste an opportunity, we excitedly pursued it. It seemed unsure about us at first, so we followed it for a while until it calmed a bit. I dove a few times to swim alongside, which was pretty incredible, though the turtle didn’t seem particularly interested. Sadly the camera was in the car, and we could barely keep up as it was, so we didn’t get any pictures.

I have this memory of my parents returning from Maui with some postcard or towel or something with a big, flat, white/yellow/black fish, something that has always reminded me of this place I had never been. It was a bizarre experience happening upon a live one in its natural habitat. Frankly, experiencing the oceanic wildlife here is pretty surreal in general. One knows what to expect, yet it’s all still so foreign. And there’s such a variety. Big, small, thin, fat, long, short, and each with a color scheme all their own. There are a few with a natural camouflage, but others are obvious, attracting attention very easily. They all look a bit like candy, I imagine if I were a marine predator, I would be fat and happy on these guys.

After dark, we joined the frat boys for the end of the game and we all made a scene in the Westin hot tub. I didn’t catch it, but one of them apparently got escorted out by security. Go team.

Later, we got dressed up (or some semblance thereof) and went to a ‘club’ called Timba. The entire ordeal was a bad con, starting with a red carpet (with nobody on it) and a host of bouncers wearing sunglasses. We asked if there was anyone inside, drawing some conclusion from the lack of noise and bodies, to which we were told ‘yeah, it’s packed’. Lies. I’m not much of a partier anyway, but this place was all but dead. I think the final straw was ‘no drinks on the dance floor’. Things went downhill from there, though I think everyone had a decent time in spite.

Sarah and I later discovered we were fairly extensively sunburned. Anything exposed in the many hours of water enjoyment was bright red. She also managed to get sick, possibly as a result. Neither of us slept much that night.

Sarah & I woke in time to catch the sunrise. We’re still adjusting to the time difference, but it surprises me that I’m waking up at what would be 10am. My internal clock is clearly on vacation, but in the wrong timezone.

Watching the sunrise was pretty spectacular. The mountain has clouds around it pretty much full time as far as we can tell, and at night the moisture seems to spread out, surrounding the mountain in fog. So in the morning, the sun crawls over the hill piercing through the mist and the effect is incredible.

We had discussed taking the Hana highway the night before, and in lieu of a better plan, we went for it. The road is about 60 miles long, and has smaller than regulation lanes, where it even has lanes at all. All bridges are one-lane, and most are on a blind corner. The length of the road is entirely made of turns, mostly tight, going no more than 100ft or so without a bend, and no more than 500ft or so without a blind corner. The posted limit is 15mph or good reason, but nobody obeys it (ourselves included), also for good reason. This was a pretty exciting trip to say the least. We didn’t see much there once we finally got to Hana, so if you’re considering it, I’d recommend going about halfway and turning back. Along the way are plenty of awesome little waterfalls and beaches and the like.

One of the things we did see in Hana was a red sand beach. Surrounding the area is a large area of coral and rock, and with that, lots of cool little tide pools. Sarah and I took a bunch of shots and I got some video too. The beach itself is pretty secluded, so we took the opportunity to do some snorkeling. There’s a huge rock creating a barrier against a pretty vicious sea, so apart from the current from the coming and going flow of water, it was really calm, perfect for fish-watching.

We had planned to go out, but after another several hours of tight turns at breakneck speed, we were all pretty tired (and a little sick). We crashed early and prepared for another epic day.

With the time difference, we crawled out of bed minutes after the sunrise, somewhere around 7:30 or 8. Mostly everyone had made a sincere effort to become completely drunk (~90 beers went missing) and the effects were apparent. My sister thought it wise to pull a sweater over her head and wrap herself in a comforter the night before. She wasn’t really happy about it in the morning. The (other) boys came crawling out of the frat room mostly still drunk I think. It’s sometimes hard to tell.

We all chipped in for breakfast, which was eggs, bacon, and toast with fresh fruit salad. Afterward, we splashed around in the water for a bit. The ‘beach’ is mostly rocks, but remains shallow for about 100yd or so off the shore. There’s a small staircase that descends into the water from a concrete barrier wall, and the bottom step is completely covered in algae. Every person heading into the water, despite warning from previous victims, nearly died on that step in true stoogeish, comical style. There’s a lump of coral that peeks out of the ocean at the very edge of the shelf, just big enough to seat a person or two. Getting out there was a bit of a trick with the coming and going waves, but I made it my mission, and managed to pull it off. I didn’t mention it before, but the waves effectively die here. They crash against the shelf and become a strong current, so sitting on the tiny mountain, I was bombarded by each incoming wave attempting to sweep me away. Sarah had the foresight to equip herself with some sort of rugged water shoe (I was barefoot) and rescued me from the field of sharp rocks, shells, and critters obstructing my path home. I managed to escape with only a few scrapes and bruises from my previous, solo effort to reach the edge.

Somewhere around noon, we left for Lahaina. As we were arriving, a cruise ship appeared. Appropriate, I think, because Lahaina is a small town that makes no apparent secret of catering to visiting tourists. I should mention – anyone I’ve met who has been to Maui, since I was a child, has woven a tale of corruption and commercialism about this place, describing often that every inch of the island is developed and resorty. Until Lahaina, I hadn’t really found that to be true. There is a strong presence of tourist attractions, but it’s really very quaint and small-village like in nature. Regardless, Lahaina was certainly interesting. There’s a tiny road that travels along the water, lined with shops and parked cars. Pedestrians and cyclists account for most of the traffic, and motor vehicles are made to drive 5-10mph as they look for parking. There’s shaved ice, jewelry, and art in many flavors, all unique to the area. Along the water, tightly packed together, are tour boats for various purposes, I didn’t read them all, but it looked like many were snorkel/scuba or just party cruises.

In the center of town is the Old Lahaina Courthouse. Directly in front of the courthouse doors is a park, which is home to a massive jungle tree that seems to grow horizontally rather than vertically as one might expect. scattered at the outskirts of its massive branches are smaller trees that act as support and have grown together with the limbs as if all part of the same entity. The tree’s growth has nearly entirely encompassed the courthouse itself, to such an extent that only one side of it is visible without walking through the tree’s domain. It was quite a sight.

Sarah and I dropped everyone else off at the condo and made a small trip to fetch supplies. In that time, ‘everyone else’ got drunk (drunker, actually; they had been drinking in Lahaina) and raided the pool, then cooked dinner. We returned to find a feast of carefully prepared tortellini marinara w/ turkey meatballs, and not a single person nearby sober enough to stand let alone prepare such an appetizing meal. Regardless, it was delicious. The remainder of the day consisted mostly of drinking and was otherwise uneventful. Or I can’t remember. I’m not sure which.

So we made it. Early, in fact. The in-flight stereotypes made a real push to supply an authentic experience, however, so it was none too soon. I’ll spare you the bulk of it, but my favorite part was the choir of rugrats. There was a sizable flock of children aboard, completely encompassing our group so we could get the full experience in thundering Dolby 7.1 surround sound. The shrill highs, the pulsing lows, and that spine-shattering rapid-fire bass kick from the seat behind. No flight experience is truly complete without the kids, thanks guys.

Anyway, we’re here, and we couldn’t be happier. We got a free upgrade on the rental car (GMC Yukon) to kick things off right, and proceeded to pack in to it 6 people, somewhere between 8 and 12 piece of luggage, and a heaping Costco shopping cart full of food. I’m well versed in packing, but I honestly don’t know how the hell we pulled this off.

The condo is awesome. First floor, on the water, though sadly not the beach (beach is next door). Pool, excellent view, if it weren’t for the 24 hour blistering heat, it would be perfect. Though some would argue that’s more or less what we signed up for.

During the ride yesterday, Jess & I decided, to visit the vehicle deck of the ferry in preparation for arrival. With a little research, I’ve discovered a few fun facts. It seems the Bainbridge ferries travel at about 18 knots, or 20-21 mph (for the record, this is much, much faster than it sounds.) They also weigh almost 5,000 tons which is roughly 10 million pounds not including cargo. Who knew?

As we stood on the vehicle deck, bow of the boat, watching the island draw near, it was suddenly apparent that no ferry dock could be seen. The route from Seattle to Bainbridge is pretty straight, so as the waterfront properties came into focus, their carefully selected trim & floral-print curtains now clearly visible, it seemed reasonable to me that I should see the receiving assembly of our destination. Yet no such structure was visible, and still we rumbled forth. No sign of slowing, turning, or waking, as from a dream, or a wandering thought.

In my final moments, I tried to imagine why this was happening. Who had fallen asleep, or what wire had come apart. Where the warning alarm was, and in the back of my mind, what I would have to do to avoid a very painful death. I imagined 10 million pounds of steel mass colliding with boulders, sharp rocks, and sand. Maybe 100-150 cars, trucks, commercial vehicles and anything else that isn’t welded down sliding to the front of the boat and over the front like freshly chopped vegetables from the cutting board into the soup. Maybe more like a meat grinder from my angle.

Seemingly less than 1,000ft from shore, the ol’ can veered starboard, making its way through an inlet just to the north and into the harbor. I’m sure the Captain and crew get a good laugh out of that one every time.

It was warm, but not overly so – a soft chill in the wind kept things bearable. Jess & I got up a little later than planned, but got ourselves together in time for the 10:40 ferry. They have these little ‘bicycle parking’ ties on the ferry now you can attach to, simple yet effective. This was probably news generations ago, but having never been through this process with a bike before, it seemed noteworthy. On a side note, they don’t appear to be idiot proof. Some guy’s gear got loose and slid down the deck. Poor schmuck.

We stopped at the island post office in search of binding tape. My handlebar wrap had gotten loose and was coming unraveled. I ended up using 6 or 8 “Priority Mail” stickers instead. Almost as good (actually, not even close) but a whole lot cheaper. We stopped again to grab sandwiches at the grocery store. Each stop means undoing my cleated biking shoes, taking off my socks, and throwing on some sandals. unpack the bag, repack the bag, shop, unpack, repack, ride. I’m glad they’re made with velcro. Also I’m not complaining or anything. Really.

The plan was to hook up with the 305 and see where it took us. I had glanced at a topo map of the island before we left, but… those things are so hard to read. Fair to say I was hoping for the best, but pretty well in the dark about what to expect. The backup plan was to keep an eye on the downhills that might be uphills on the way back. We sneaked through town and made it to the 305 with little incident, then across to Manitou beach avoiding any steep inclines. The scenery was enjoyable, but there was a stink of very fresh cow crap we never quite found the source of.

Island communities have this funny habit of putting dinky little 1/2 lane one-ways in the strangest places. To avoid breaking the law and maybe getting, at worst, a look of disapproval from someone’s dog, we followed the overly descriptive (and barricaded) “Do not enter! Do not enter! no cars, no horses, no bikes, no pedestrians, don’t even LOOK the wrong way down this road” signs and made our way through a wooded area, and eventually into a little crossroads with an auto shop, a corner store, and one of those traditional Pacific Northwest outdoor sporting goods stores. In every direction except the way we came was either long, steep inclines, or dead ends. Consulting a map, I found a side street that would take us back to the 305. It turned out to be a long dirt road very much resembling someone’s driveway, and not reassuring me in the least. As advertised, however, it pulled through for us. One short, steep loose-gravel decline, and one last big incline and we made it back to the highway.

Content with our effort, we made our way back to the terminal, and placed our fate once again in the hands of the maniacal WSDOT ferry operators (see later post). Worth mentioning at this point, once we were away from the dock and securely held hostage, the announcer made a point of letting us know he had crashed more ferries than any state operator. “Lucky for us”, he continued, “I’m not driving”. Very funny.

Airport terminals offer, for me, a nostalgic sense of privilege. Undergoing the exchange of considerable sums of personal finance, the lines, the unrivaled scrutiny. By the time one arrives at the enormous windows framing the vehicle of your demise, the experience becomes euphoric and accomplished.

The flight was brief & uneventful, though Virgin Airlines is a pretty classy way to fly. Very in touch with modern culture. I’m told most airlines these days have added a fee for everything they can – food, drink, snacks, movies, etc. Sadly Virgin is no exception. Somewhat of a disappointment over previous experiences I’ve had, but acceptable considering the ticket price.

San Fran is pretty cool so far. Very much the Cali atmosphere as I envisioned it – palm trees, ocean, “real” beaches. I’ll post photos when I can. We visited the Port of SF & waterfront – Seattle’s lake Union experience is drastically reduced in scale, though not dissimilar.

Next was Golden Gate. There’s really no substitute for seeing this monolithic feat of engineering in person. I envision giants big enough to crush godzilla under their feet working together to assemble this bridge as one would a model airplane. Human capacity to assemble such a structure seems absurdly impractical.

Next was Stinson beach. I appreciate that it was well out of the city to the north. This offered the impression of very clean ocean water, reaching as far as the eye can see (which, by the way, has a very nice look to it in the sunny/misty/hazy environment.) Getting to the beach brought back memories of travelling through dirt roads through the mountains in tropical 3rd world countries – windy roads on the edge of a steep drop with no guardrails & rocks. Jess also drives very fast.

We returned to the city to visit the Sutro Bath House Ruins. Not much left of what was, I’m told, a grand affair of bath-house awesomeness, but great location right on the ocean built into a bunch of rocks, very fun to just hang out. Also, it’s parked right next to the first “real” beach I’ve seen this trip. Certainly dwarfs anything we have back home.

Dinner at a hole-in-the-wall fusion place, then finally crashed around 10:30. After 3 hours of sleep & going since 4am, I can tell you I was *very* relieved. Today’s plan – going to Pacifica for a hike, pretty loose schedule, I’ll update later.