A Flight Around the World's Highest Mountains: Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa

Mountains that make their own weather can be frustrating because...they make their own weather. High mountains in the path of consistent winds force air masses upwards, causing the water vapor within to condense, forming clouds and as often as not, rain. This is especially true around the tallest mountains on the planet.

I'm not talking about Mt. Everest in the Himalayas. It's tall of course, just over 29,000 feet above sea level. But if one measures from the base of the mountain on the sea floor, Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea on the Big Island of Hawai'i are around 32,000 feet high (Mauna Kea edges out Mauna Loa by about 120 feet). The two giants are nearly 14,000 feet above sea level, and they rise in the middle of the northeast Trade Winds of the Pacific Ocean. They are often clear for a few minutes in the early morning, but the clouds can build quickly, obscuring the view. During our field studies trip in 2016, we had been exploring for five days before the students even saw Mauna Loa at all.

I've been privileged to visit the Hawaiian Islands eight times now, and that means there've been a few chances to see the great shield volcanoes from above as I've arrived or departed from the islands, but none of them was like the scene that presented itself to me this morning. We had an early flight, and for once I was on the correct side of the plane (for the record, on flights out of Hilo you want to be on the left side of the plane). There were just a few clouds on the northeast side, but we flew through them and soon the entire north flank of Mauna Kea was spread out below.

These mountains are astoundingly big. They formed from hundreds of thousands of eruptions of non-viscous (easily flowing) streams of basaltic lava generated at a "hot spot" in the earth's mantle hundreds of miles beneath the surface. The outer lithosphere of the earth slides over the hot spot, carrying earlier-formed volcanoes to the northwest. Kauai, Maui, and Oahu were all once large shield volcanoes like Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa, but they have subsided and erosion has ripped into their flanks. Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa will eventually suffer the same fate, and in fact Mauna Kea hasn't erupted in several thousand years (a number of very expensive telescope dot its summit). Mauna Loa is still highly active, having erupted in 1984. I wouldn't be shocked if it erupted again tomorrow (which would be the karma of just having left the island).

Perhaps my favorite shot of all, the north flank of Mauna Kea

These mountains aren't just fascinating as geological entities. They are also biological refuges. There are hundreds if not thousands of rare and endemic species of plants and animals in the forests on the flanks of the mountains. There are few environments like these on the planet, a slope that climbs from beaches to tropical rainforests, temperate rainforests, high deserts, and alpine slopes. One can see from the patchwork of cleared forests on the flanks of the volcanoes that we have severely affected these unique environments in order to raise cattle and goats. Many species, especially birds, have been lost, and other are barely hanging on.

Three gigantic shields in one picture, Mauna Kea on the left, Mauna Loa in the center, and Hualapai on the right.

It was a fascinating flight around the summits of the world's highest mountains!

The Hawai'i That Was: Watching the Destruction of the Islands in Real Time

The Big Island volcanoes of Mauna Kea (left) and Mauna Loa (right), as seen from the summit of Haleakala on Maui

Geologists have at their fingertips the closest thing to a working time machine that exists on planet Earth. We can't travel to the past, of course, but we can decipher past happenings by working out the sequence of geological events. But with the Hawaiian Islands, we have a different kind of time machine. We can predict the future of the Big Island.

The Hawaiian Islands are an example of an active hot spot, an enigmatic place in the Earth's mantle that is much hotter than surrounding regions. The hot spots produce tremendous amounts of basaltic lava that erupt onto the ocean floor, and the constant eruptions result in the formation of the gigantic shields like Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea (top picture). Since the asthenosphere (solid upper mantle and crust) is in constant lateral motion, the volcanoes that grow on the hot spots are carried off, and ultimately become inactive. The former hot spot volcanoes don't end with Kauai and Ni'ihau. There are submerged former islands on the Pacific Ocean floor that extend all the way to the Aleutian Islands in Alaska. In the history of these islands and former islands we see the future of the Big Island of Hawai'i. It will be a history of destruction and loss.

Haleakala on the island of Maui

The Big Island is larger than all of the other main Hawaiian Islands combined. As has been mentioned in the previous posts on the the Hawai'i That Was, the island is composed of five distinct shield volcanoes, Kilauea, Mauna Loa, Mauna Kea, Hualalai, and Kohala. As one flies to Kaua'i, as we did during our recent trip, we passed each of these smaller islands, some well known, others not. They include popular Maui and Molokai, as well as Lana'i and Kaho'olawe.

Maui (above) includes two shield volcanoes, the immense Haleakala (10,023 ft - 3,055 m), and the lesser known West Maui volcano (5,788 ft - 1,764 m). A low valley separates the two volcanoes. Some might ask why there are only two volcanoes and not five, like on the Big Island. Why, indeed?

South side of Moloka'i

Moloka'i is likewise made up of two volcanoes, although the linear nature of the island hardly suggests any kind of volcano shape at all. The entire north side of the island is one continuous high cliff that originated when the half of the volcano slid into the sea in a gigantic debris avalanche. Another island composed of two volcanoes. Why is that?

North side of Moloka'i (I haven't been there so we have an aerial photo instead).

The island of Lana'i is what remains of a single volcano. The uninhabited island of Kaho'olawe is likewise the remains of an isolated shield. So what's with all of these small islands composed of one or two volcanoes, instead of a large single island like the Big Island of Hawai'i? An answer is to be found with a map of the islands that also shows the submarine geology

Lana'i

The four islands, Maui, Moloka'i, Lana'i, and Kaho'olawe, are spaced about as far apart from each other as the peaks on the Big Island. The intervening seas are very shallow, and one soon realizes that Mau'i and the other islands were in fact once a single island similar in size to the Big Island. The islands have been sinking slowly as they press down on the underlying crust and mantle. They were interconnected as recently as the last ice age.

So, on our flight from the Big Island to Kaua'i, we see the future of the Big Island of Hawai'i. As the volcanoes subside (measurements at Hilo suggest about an inch per decade), the single island will become a series of isolated islands. Erosion will tear away at their flanks, and gigantic avalanches will tear away large portions, spreading the debris across the deep ocean floor. What's nice about this? The degraded and eroded masses of rock in the islands of Hawai'i have turned out to be some of the most beautiful landscapes on the planet! In the next post, we'll arrive at the most eroded island of all, Kaua'i (our recent trip only covered the two islands; I may take up an exploration of Oahu and Maui later on).

The Hawai'i That Was: Mauna O Wakea, the Opening to the Heavens, and the Realm of Ice

It's hard for me as a person of European descent to imagine what the first Polynesians to arrive at the islands thought of Hawaii's highest mountain. Mauna Kea, the "White Mountain", or Mauna O Wakea, the mountain of the god Wakea, the "expanse of the sky", rises to a height of 13,802 feet (4,207 meters), just slightly higher than its more massive neighbor Mauna Loa (13,679 feet; 4,169 meters). It's a reasonable assumption (spoken here by the amateur) that the first people to arrive had no cultural memories of erupting volcanoes, but even more to the point, no cultural memories of ice. But ice is what they found on Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa.

A mountain nearly 14,000 feet high casts a very long shadow (2009)

Wait a moment. Ice? Snow? In Hawai'i? It's true that the islands are in the tropics, but altitude makes up for a lot where snow and ice are concerned. In other parts of the world near the equator, for instance the Andes and the Himalayas, glaciers and snow are not unusual. But none of the other islands of Polynesia approach an elevation anywhere close to that of Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea (along with Haleakala on the island of Maui). Snow often falls in winter, and storms in summer sometimes leave ice on the summit (the snow patches in picture below are from June of 2009). During the ice ages, Mauna Kea was even covered by glaciers! During at least two periods, between 70,000 and 150,000 years ago, and from 10,000 to 40,000 years ago, glacial ice covered about 28 square miles of the mountain's summit. Lava flows that were quenched by the ice produced an unusually hard basaltic rock that was prized by Native Hawaiians for tool-making in the years before iron arrived on the islands, carried by Europeans ships.

The Polynesians may have had their origins in New Guinea or Taiwan, but something more than a thousand years may have separated the native Hawaiians from any ancestors who ever laid eyes on snow-covered mountains. This was something new for them. The strange landscape of Mauna Kea soon became to them a holy place, a spot that was the origin of all people as a result of the relationship of the gods Wakea (the aforementioned "expanse of the sky") and Papahānaumoku (the Earth mother, or "she who gave birth to the islands"). Many on the islands continue their traditions of worship on the mountain (below).

An altar near Pu'u Huluhulu at Saddle Road Summit, just south of Mauna Kea.

And that's where the conflict starts. Wakea is the god of the "expanse of the heavens", and the summit of Mauna Kea certainly offers what may be the world's best view of the heavens, due to the high elevation (over more than 40% of the atmosphere), very low air turbulence, lack of light pollution, and the extremely clean dry air, far from any sources of pollution. The relatively gentle slopes provide for vehicular access. Since 1970, 13 state-of-the-art observatories have been constructed on the summit of Mauna Kea. The fourteenth observatory was supposed to begin construction last year, but massive protests and a legal suit have postponed any further building for the time being.

It's a conundrum. The argument isn't simply a religion versus science debate. There are concerns about the effect of the project on the ecosystems of the mountain, as well as the movement of groundwater. A great many endemic and endangered species cling to existence on the upper slopes of the mountain. Some of those who are invested in the sacred aspects of the debate don't actually oppose the telescope, seeing a relationship between a god who represents "the expanse of the skies" with the new-found ability of humans to see farther into the cosmos using the technology that we have created. Others most certainly see the construction of yet another observatory (and the biggest one yet, with a larger "footprint") as a desecration of sacred ground. Imagine, perhaps, building a group of telescopes on the summit of Mount Sinai. There might be good scientific reasons for choosing the site, but it wouldn't sit well with those of the Jewish, Christian and Islamic faiths.

Mauna Kea has been erupting for perhaps 1,000,000 years, but it is hard to say, since younger flows have covered the older ones. The volcano is presently dormant, with no eruptions any time within the last 4,500 years. That doesn't mean it is dead. A new eruption at the summit could certainly make any discussions concerning telescope-building moot (although some would consider it a statement from Wakea).

We saw Mauna Kea from several directions during our recent exploration of the island. It greeted on clear mornings from our hotel in Hilo (above), and we had a spectacular view of the mountain from the upper slopes of Kohala, another long-dormant shield on the north end of the Big Island (below). One evening we drove to the Onizuka Center for International Astronomy at the 9,000 foot level of the mountain for a star-viewing (these are held nightly). The skies are truly pristine, and our students saw the constellation of the Southern Cross for the first time in their lives (it of course lies hidden beneath the horizon in our more northerly climes).

Three major shield volcanoes on the Big Island, as seen from a fourth. We are standing on Kohala, looking at Mauna Kea (left), Mauna Loa (mostly hidden by clouds in the center), and Hualalai (right).

This post is part of a blog series on the Hawai'i That Was, an exploration of the pre-human, and pre-European history of the Hawaiian Islands, which was the objective of the field course we conducted a few weeks ago. In the next post, we will move on from Hilo and the active volcanoes and have a look at the Kona Coast.

The Southern Cross is the kite-shaped group of stars on the left side of the photo. Taken from the patio at the Onizuka Center for International Astronomy

The Hawai'i That Was: How Can the Biggest Mountain in the World Stay So Hidden?

Mauna Loa from the Mauna Kea Road near the Onizuka Center

The answer is easy: clouds. This whole post is a temper tantrum, a tantrum that resulted from the fact that we were on the Big Island of Hawai'i, the site of the biggest mountain on planet Earth, for nine days a few weeks ago. Despite repeated opportunities, my students never had a clear view of Mauna Loa, the volcano that covers more than half of the island. It was a rainy stretch of weather, so the best we ever got were brief peeks, kind of like watching an old-fashioned feather boa dance. So in response, I've drawn from the Geotripper archives to find pictures of Mauna Loa from earlier trips. Very sunny trips.

Mauna Loa from the Mauna Kea Road near the Onizuka Center

Clouds are not the least bit unusual on the slopes of Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, the two highest peaks on the planet (as measured from the sea floor; of the two, Mauna Kea is slightly higher). The Hawaiian Islands lie in the path of the trade winds most of the year, and as the moist air masses rise against the gentle slopes of the massive shields, they cool and condense into clouds. Hilo is pretty much the wettest city in the United States, with more than 100 inches of rain each year. Oddly enough, an atmospheric inversion layer limits cloud formation to the lower slopes of the volcanoes. It's been more than once that I've left Hilo in a rainstorm only to find crystal clear skies up on the mountain (but not so much last week!). Exceptions, like earlier this month, happen when storm fronts come through. In winter, snow is not a rare occurrence on the high peaks.

Mauna Loa from the Mauna Kea Road above the Onizuka Center

Oceans have a lot to do with the fact that no one gets to see the entirety of Mauna Loa. It is the biggest mountain on the planet, as well as the biggest volcano (although the Tamu Massif may be more voluminous), but it rises of the floor of the Pacific Ocean, with around 17,000 feet hidden beneath sea level.  A bit less than 14,000 feet rises above the waves. It depresses the sea floor another five miles, so the mountain could actually be said to be 56,000 feet high. It has a volume of 15,000-19,000 cubic miles.

Sunset on Mauna Loa from Mauna Kea. The brown air is vog from the eruptions at Kilauea on the other side of the mountain.

The volcano began erupting perhaps 700,000 years ago, and became an island around 400,000 years ago. It's hard to confirm since the older lava flows are hidden deep beneath the younger ones. The oldest exposed lavas (at the Ninole Hills) are about 200,000 years old. The giant shield continues to be very active, with 33 eruptions since 1843. The last eruption was in 1984, making this quiescent period the longest in recorded history (contrast that with the continuous eruptions at nearby Kilauea that started in 1983). The lava from the 1984 eruption came uncomfortably close to Hilo.

Mauna Loa from South Point, the imaginatively named southernmost point in the United States.

The gentle slopes of the volcano belie the true immensity of the mountain. To hike from the shoreline to summit is to simulate a trip from the tropics to the Arctic Circle. The slopes above 4,000 feet are among the most important bird habitat in the nation. Hawai'i is a gigantic open laboratory of evolution and the many native species have been decimated by environmental disruptions caused by the arrival of humans and their pigs, goats, rats, and mongooses. Even worse was the arrival of mosquitoes in the 1870s, as they are a vector for transmitting avian malaria. The native birds had no immunity. The mosquitoes can't thrive in the cooler conditions above 4,000 feet, so the mountains are an island within an island, providing sanctuary for the remaining survivors.

Mauna Loa looks almost insignificant in the morning light from Hilo Bay (below), but the summit is around forty miles away. The mountain is gigantic, and dangerous. And we barely got to see it earlier this month. But we knew it was there. We were surrounded by its flows in Hilo, at Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park, at South Point, and at Kona, a drive that took us 120 miles!

Mauna Loa from Hilo Bay

A Most Misunderstood Island: One of the Most Diverse Landscapes on Earth

Shall we start with a stereotypical Hawaiian beach?

One can certainly be forgiven for thinking that Hawai'i is a group of high-rise hotels next to a wide sandy beach. It isn't as if a string of television shows (Magnum, P.I. and Hawaii 5-0 for example) have spent decades putting that stereotype into our heads. And the majority of tourists never venture beyond the hotel row at Waikiki and Honolulu. A visit to some of the other islands can be a real revelation (and adventure). The Hawaiian Islands, and especially the Big Island, are one of the most diverse landscapes on planet Earth.

The view from Pu'u Huluhulu at Saddle Road summit

Not convinced? Here is a selection of pictures taken over just two days of reconnaissance on the Big Island. How about an African savanna? A lone Koa tree (I think, I'm still learning these!) overlooks the plains along the summit of Saddle Road, a highway that links the two sides of the island. There are even grazing cattle, sheep, pigs, and goats (which are doing terrible things to the natural ecosystems).

Perhaps an archaeological site in the wilds of the Sinai Desert? The great heiaus on the Big Island served a variety of purposes, including refuges, sacrificial sites, and temples. They date back hundreds of years. This one can be seen at Pu'ukohola Heiau National Historical Site on the dry side of the island in the rain shadow of the Kohala volcano. Rainfall averages less than 20 inches a year, compared to more than a hundred just a few miles away.

A recovering mesic coastal forest? Not a desert, not a rainforest, but somewhere in-between (mostly on the dry side) We are looking at the Lapakahi State Historical Park on the west slope of Kohala. The original forest was cut down for a number of reasons, but humans lived in this village for hundreds of years.

How about the high plains prairie? One of the largest privately owned ranches in the United States is found on the Big Island (the Parker Ranch). The cattle graze on rich grasslands that cover some of the older volcanoes. When they reach the right age, they fly in a 747 to the mainland. As a guide to Hawaii mentions, they probably enjoy more foot room than the average tourist in coach...

 As can be seen, some of the grasslands are windy.

Big Sur on the Big Island? Sure. This Big Island is not as famed for the coastal cliffs like those in Kaua'i and Molokai, but several tens of thousands of years ago, a large part of the northern coastline of the island collapsed into the sea. It probably produced a mega-tsunami in the local islands that had run-ups amounting to hundreds of feet in elevation.The Pololu Valley and coast is stunning.

The Pololu coast is also known for the gorgeous river valleys that extend into the Kohala volcano ("gorgeous"; Did you get it?). The canyons are hundreds of feet deep, and were once even deeper, but the islands are slowly sinking and the valleys fill with sediment.

I doubt that Sauron would have ever established Mordor in a place like this. These a'a lava flows from Mauna Loa are only a few decades old, and are practically impossible to traverse. Somehow a highway got built across part of it, and there is even a strange housing complex in the immediate vicinity. The few trees are the native Ohi'a, a tree that can grow from coastal environments to as high as 10,000 feet or so. I don't believe there is another tree on the planet that can do that.

And how about glacial environments? Yes, Hawai'i had glaciers during the Ice Ages! The top of Mauna Kea was mantled with flowing ice only a few thousand years ago. There are glacial moraines, and even a small lake that is the third highest in United States. Eruptions happening in the ice produced a glassy form of basalt that was much harder than normal, so the native Hawaiians would climb to the summit of the mountain to gather the rock for tool-making.

And finally, yes, there are rainforests! Beautiful green forests filled with rare and endemic plants found nowhere else on the planet. Don't tell anyone about this, but I see scenes like this and think of the Jungle Cruise at Disneyland! But these forests are real.

There are even more ecosystems and biomes on the island that we just didn't happen to see on our short excursions. Expect to see some more as the week progresses. We've got two more weeks on the islands, and lots of exploring to do!

Picture Yourself Here: Multidisciplinary Field Studies in the Hawaiian Islands, June 1-13, 2016

This might be of interest only to my Modesto area readers, but anyone who is interested in learning about the natural and human history of the Hawaiian Islands may want to investigate this field studies opportunity June 1-13, 2016. I am collaborating with anthropologist Dr. Susan Kerr of Modesto Junior College to guide students on an exploration of two of the most fascinating islands in the Pacific Ocean, Hawai'i (the Big Island), and Kaua'i.

The islands are an outstanding outdoor laboratory for understanding basaltic volcanism associated with a "hot spot", or mantle plume. The Big Island consists of five overlapping shield volcanoes, including the largest and highest mountains on the planet, Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea. Measured from their base on the ocean floor, the volcanoes are more than 30,000 feet tall. The portion that rises above sea level is impressive. It is possible to collect snow from the summits during part of the year. Glaciers once collected on the summit of Mauna Kea!

Although we couldn't possibly guarantee lava on our trip, Kilauea has been producing lava flows nonstop for more than thirty years. Subsurface activity has been noted for the last few weeks at Mauna Loa. It hasn't erupted since 1984, but who knows?

Of course, volcanism is hardly the only fascinating topic of study in the Hawaiian Islands. There are tropical jungles and deserts is well as the iconic beaches (including a green sand beach, the sand grains composed of the mineral olivine!). There are striking examples of evolution in action, with highly adapted plant and animals species, including a group of native Honeycreepers that are (or were) as diverse as Darwin's finches on the Galapagos Islands. There are even native owls, hawks, and geese (the Nene is the state bird; some Canada Geese made a wrong turn a half million years ago).

The human story is no less compelling, from the arrival of Polynesians hundreds of years ago to the later mingling of cultures that make the state one of the most diverse human communities on the planet.

We will spend about nine days on the Big Island, working out of hotels in Hilo and Kona. We'll then fly to Kaua'i to spend four days exploring the small, older island, including overlooks of the legendary Na Pali Coast, and the "Grand Canyon of the Pacific", the incredible Waimea Canyon. Although the itinerary is ambitious, we will work time in for some optional personal explorations, including possible hikes into Waimea Canyon, or onto the Alaka'i Swamp, one of the strangest environments on the planet (the swamps receive hundreds of inches of rain every year).

The cost of the classes will be $2,200 for lodging, transportation, and fees. Participants will need to pay their fare to and from the islands, and provide their own food (the fee includes the inter-island flight). The students will enroll in Geology 190 and Anthropology 190 (through Modesto Junior College). There are no prerequisites, although previous courses in geology or anthropology certainly wouldn't hurt. The tuition will be about $300 (unfortunately the out-of-state tuition is considerably higher)..

We are having an organizational meeting on Friday, October 30 on the West Campus of Modesto Junior College at 7PM in Science Community Center Room 326. Attendance is not mandatory and brochures will be available for those who can't make it. Initial deposits will be due in mid-November, and priority space will be given to the first twenty students who commit to the trip. If there are more than twenty, we will try to accommodate them if possible.

For information and announcements, please check out the class web page at http://hayesg.faculty.mjc.edu/Hawaii_2016.html, or join the Hawaii field studies Facebook group at https://www.facebook.com/groups/452708258272005/. We hope you'll consider joining us on this once in a lifetime opportunity! Please contact me at hayesg (at) mjc.edu if you have questions.

Dispatches from the Road: Excuse me, there's a Kao trying to get into your Kipuka Pu'u Huluhulu...

It's hard to imagine a more spectacular setting than Saddle Road Summit on the Big Island of Hawai'i. Two of the world's largest volcanoes, Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa, overlap at an elevation of almost 7,000 feet. In the middle of the broad pass, with expansive views of both volcanoes, there is one of the most extraordinary sights of all the islands: Pu'u Huluhulu. The name means "shaggy hill". It's a small knob, a minor cinder cone lying between two giants, but it tells a fascinating story. The cinder cone erupted several thousand years ago, and has since been surrounded by barren basalt flows, most recently in the 1930s. These isolated areas surrounded by fresh lava flows are called kipukas.
On islands that have been ravaged by invasive species the way Hawai'i has, kipukas serve as islands within islands. They can preserve a native landscape that has disappeared from most of the rest of the islands. At Pu'u Huluhulu, the slopes preserve a Koa tree forest environment that once covered most of Mauna Kea, but which was decimated by logging and grazing over the last 150 years. If and when we decide to change our land-use practices on the islands, a kipuka like this one can be the source of native species that could eventually lead to the reforestation of the mountains.

Koa trees, like those seen above on the trail around Pu'u Huluhulu, once grew in abundance on the islands, reaching upwards of a hundred feet tall, and trunks wide enough to fashion canoes. Most of the "grandfather" trees have been cut down, so a place like this, with a Koa forest environment, is all the more valuable.

One cannot mistake this place as a pristine environment, though. The area was grazed heavily over the years and invasive weeds arrived on boots, and on the fur of goats, cows and pigs. The pigs and goats were especially destructive of the understory shrubs. What has changed is the growing recognition of the value of such places. A fence has been constructed to keep out the goats and pigs, and volunteers have been weeding out the invasive plant species, and planting, or encouraging the growth of dormant seeds of the native understory shrubs and perennials. They're doing a good job. The native vegetation attracts native bird and insect species, and Pu'u Huluhulu is often a good place to see the native Amakihi, Apanane, Io (Hawaiian hawk), Pueo (Hawaiian owl), Nene (the Hawaiian goose), I'iwi and other unique birds. We heard, but didn't see any close enough to photograph on this trip, but I'll be back!

We did see a rather incongruous sight, though: a herd of goats wandering across the barren lava fields (that's the "kao" of the blog title today). They know very well what lies across the fence, and they literally hang around the gateways in the fencing, hoping for a chance to get into the kipuka and do their thing, which is eating and eating. When they say "close the gates", please do it! There is grazing land across the highway for the goats.

If you have old memories of Saddle Road as a hellish, dangerous winding mountain road, or if you visit for the first time and read that the road is not for the faint of heart, the situation (for better or worse in the philosophical sense) has changed. The road has been repaved and engineered, and is a pleasant drive, if it isn't raining or foggy. Some people miss the wildness of the old route, which was pretty unnerving when I followed it for the first time. The expansive views, especially on the western slope on clear days, are stunning. It's a purely Hawaiian experience, but not a Hawai'i stereotype. There really isn't any place like this in the world.

Next time: a different kipuka...