Uphill...

First of all I needed to understand some things about how grades are measured. By grades I mean road grades.  I’d failed to appreciate what a 18% grade was. 

I knew it was steep.  They give tours taking tourists up here promising they “won’t have to peddle at all” to ride bikes DOWN this road.  I drove it before.  I knew it was steep. I did not however appreciate what that would mean on a bike. 

I’m new to road biking and admittedly was no where near ready for this ride. It’s on most top 10 hill climb bike ride lists not because it’s pretty(which it is) but because it’s amazingly hard. 

In 10 miles you’d clime 4200 vertical feet. You’d do most of that in the first 6. 

The steepest mile averages an 18% grade..... averages!!!!!!  

I was so optimistic and confident as I left the parking lot. Ice in my pack melting on  my back,  munching on my Luna bar, in hind sight I was a moron. I hopped on the bike in front of the construction site at sea level and playfully like a child road down the street past houses and schools. Finally reaching a slight uphill section where for once I downshifted. It wasn’t hard, my legs were fresh and warming up. Around a couple bends and up and up I went. Coming around a corner to an awesome view of the town of Waimea below.  I’d stop(because here that was actually possible-explanation to follow.). Snapped a couple photos. Adjusted my leaking water bottle. Clipped back in and up I went. A few more corners more hills.  Hills on hills. Hills. Does it ever flatten out?  No.  No it does not. Turning another switch back I am met with the mother of all hills. I’m only 4 miles in to a 20 mile ride. My legs are literally on fire. I look down again and again to check. I’m in my second to last gear and my lowest gear in my mind is for emergencies only.  Then there harsh reality hits me: you have to have a few seconds of forward momentum to unclip your shoes or you’ll topple over bike on top of you. It’s so steep. Stopping for even a moment is not an option.  I start slaloming up hill. Like a skier. It’s all I can think to do. I’m about half way up and I risk it because now both my brain and legs are screaming at me- I slam my right anckle over praying my clip gives way as I feel my body weight shift. I’m now falling. The only hope is if my foot is fast enough and can meet the ground before my knee and precious bike do. It works. Relief streams through me but for a moment. I am thoroughly screwed. This is way, way steeper than I realized. And as good a shape as I imagine I am in I may as well be a couch potato mall walker(no offense). There is no way. I compose myself. Look uphill again look in amazement at how high I’ve already climbed in the brief couple miles I’ve ridden. Wonder how the *%#^ do I get back on my bike??   Just peddle don’t worry about clipping. I point my bike at an angle and shove it as best I could forward.  Riding a clip in bike with cleats not clipped in is rather like peddling on peddles the size and made of ice cubes.  One foot at a time and requiring more energy that I needed to expend I get feet in. I don’t even want to look up hill finally finally I can see it rounding off. On fire once again all I want is a break.  I won’t get it. The flat is no more that a crosswalks worth of pitch change before its right back up it. More out mental need than physical I downshift. The final gear. From here there is no where else to go. I am now actively talking to myself.  I’m going so slow is all I can think I can feel my heart beat as if it too wants to unclip and ditch the bike.  It’s not that I care how slow I go it’s just I realize how freaking long I will be doing this. I switch my focus to how I’m peddling.  Using the clips to pull up with quads giving my hamstrings a break. It doesn’t matter because I cannot shut up my brain. This was crazy. And I’m not ready for it. I know I got lucky getting off the bike last time. I’m now in the middle of a hill that makes the last one look like a pitching mound.  I think briefly about going to the edge of the road so I can just fall over into bushes but then decide to unclip while peddling.  It almost works. I unclip. Only in my hast I’ve shifted my weight too much to my downhill clipped side. I’m gonna go over. And I do. Laying in a heap on the road. 

In a heap. On the side of the road. I am upside down taking a moment to swear and admire the unique perspective, the Pacific Ocean is now the sky. 

 I’m bleeding, I’ve scratched my precious bike, and there is a car coming so now on top of it all my ego hurts too. 

I’m barely into the beginning of this thing and I know I’ve failed. I do that occasionally. ;). I don’t typically publicize that....but it’s part of life and.....

I’ll be back. 

....posting this will help keep me to that internal promise made as I sadly descended the hill. 

How to ruin Hawaii

I am having to come to terms with the fact I may have ruined Hawaii forever for us.

We are here...in this beautiful place...without any tourists.

And it. Is. Freaking. Awesome. They don’t want me to say that. ***I would also note the quarantine is serious. To me it was worth not leaving where we were and we were super lucky to be where we were....but 2 weeks is a long time to go no where so come if you can but know it’s not something you could skip out on if you are contemplating.

We are coming up on a month of being here. To be honest I have been here a few times, in fact this island is the first place Todd and I went, first time we left continental US in 2003. We’ve been to the other islands, but Kauai was always my favorite. It’s small, feels somehow undiscovered. No building can be higher than a palm tree. This place is off the charts beautiful. There’s a reason the Nāpali coast is the picture on a wall in every travel agency office.

It’s a green giant rising almost in defiance of gravity from the sea. Seemingly ancient and yet clearly vulnerable to the charms of time, water having carved dramatic flying buttresses into the sea.

Jurassic Park, Fantasy Island, Lord of the Flies, King King, Indiana Jones, and countless others have opened to scenes of this landscapes here.

The other beautiful part of it is it’s almost impossible to see. There is no road to that area of the island. So your options are simple: boat(no boats right now), helicopter(no helicopters right now), or “the most dangerous hiking trail in the world.”

I’ve hiked a fair amount. And still roll my eyes at this distinction but I’ll get back to why that’s the case later.

Ordinarily you have to get a pass or ticket to even get to the trail. A few years ago they decided the trail was being “loved to death” and in a hope to both limit and dissuade people from using it they implemented this policy.

I also understand on a practical level there is basically one road around Kauai. The road to the trail is the end of the road and goes through two quaint towns, kids playing, small schools and churches, currently no tourists clogging the street so it’s ideal, but miles of home made signs warning not to park and to drive slowly echo what I know, this is not what normally greats people here, normally, it’s a zoo.

Shuttle parking lots, closed off with nothing but the fleet of rental cars no one’s driving and the airport cannot not park, and no traffic on the 4 single(ya one car at a time) lane bridges you cross. An almost empty parking lot greets you and the empty ticket/ pass booth remind us how fortunate we are, people plan for months even years to come here, we woke up and drove here....two days in a row....because we up and decided to.

Day one I took all 4. Again like all our adventures basically no one wanted to go. Except maybe Austin who seems determined to see all the waterfalls we can on this island. We start up the trail past KeKe beach. It’s beautiful with a coral reef protecting a small bay. As you climb up past the tall trees decorated with vines and lined by lava rocks the true beauty of it emerges. Semicircles of coral seem to float just below the surface of the aquamarine waters. We stopped and took a picture. It’s here you first realize-only if you’re looking- what all the fuss about the trail being dangerous is about...Its a long way down, and down is a sheer cliff face disguised by lush greenery stretching for the sky. What looks like bushes on the edge of the trail you now realize are the tops of trees that are 30,40, even 60’ tall. And that, that is where you’d bounce if you fell. You’d keep bouncing until you reached the ocean below you some 400+ feet. Most people fall taking pictures. There is not 1 but 2 helicopter pad on the 2 mile route in for emergency evacuations.

Wrapping around the buttresses the trail winds up and down crossing several streams each turn gives you glimpses down the spectacular coastline.

After 2 miles of ups, downs, and arounds the trail you round a corner and see what the goal for most is....a beach you cannot use because it too will kill you. It is universally agreed upon as the most dangerous beach in Hawaii. It looks perfect and I mean perfect. Crystal blue water crashes into white sand. But as you approach the sound the waves make as they crash into the sand is startling. Every once in a while as if someone claps their hands you hear and almost feel the force the waves hit the sand. Then as you watch you can see from above the real hazard. There is an extremely strong almost constant rip currant. The only tell being the small trail of sand being drug out to sea at an alarming pace. The statistics are scarce but I remember being here 18 years ago and there being a list of names of the drowned on a board there. That’s gone and whether intentional or not it’s hard to know the stats on the beach but I did find the fact that 15 people have downed and they never found their bodies...so there’s that. And that, the missing bodies, is the statistic that kept my kids from the water, they were less concerned with the waves more with the bodies. Anyhow we stayed off the beach. It was here we had to choose. Carry on another 2 miles inland to a waterfall? Or stop. Austin was a hard yes, Hannah and Sierra were maybes but already showing signs of cracking with complaints about feet etc. Jackson was quiet but the moment we started into the forest he sat down to inspect a toe and I knew that I didn’t not have it in me to drag the 4 of them back, plus (to further worry my mother) it was going to rain I knew that afternoon, remember all the streams we crossed? Along with all the other warnings it’s made very clear that if and when it rains they become rivers-the other way to die is to get literally swept out to sea. So with complaining and now time being a factor we aborted. So I told Austin we’d come back tomorrow. We settled on swimming in the stream which was fun. Then hiked the long 2 miles back to the truck(ya I rented a truck because I’m trying to blend in, only they gave me a bright red one.). Sierra did the entirety of the trail back in bare feet, Jackson shirtless. 4 miles and we were almost to Lord of the Flies status. Austin beat us back. Mainly to get the mud and sweat off of us we took a plunge at KeKe beach.

The next day Austin and I set out via the same route this time determined to tackle the water fall. The hike proceeded the same, we once again crossed the main river and this time made a sharp left turn inland. The trail completely changed. Towering cliffs were replaced with shaded groves of bamboo, palm trees, and vines that blocked out the sun. The strange new sounds of the jungle drown out the sound of the ocean behind you. The trail switchbacks over the creek 5-6 times. Each time you weigh the risk of slipping off a rock and going all the way in with just sucking it up and putting your feet into the more stable creek bed below. I did not want wet feet, so I like an uncoordinated ballerina danced across the rocks. At one point a large 10’ tall or so smoothed bolder had to be scaled up to the trail at the top. I’d had a fleeting thought how easy it would be to slip off but kept going. A few moments later my mom radar suggested I turn around. Just in time to see a drenched Austin emerge from the creek below. Thankfully he’s bounced off the rock to a deep part of the water. I asked him if he was ok to which he grunted “ya” as he sloshed by me. We passed one group leaving and would catch glimpses of the white water spraying down the green face of the mountain. Up and over more boulders and we were there, an emerald pool of water, a towering waterfall of white lace showering down into it, black lava rocks offset by the brightest and darkest greens you can imagine, and we’re alone. A vertical green Cliff face on 3 sides. Totally alone.

Like Magic.

We kind of just sat there and took it in for a long time. The world is beautiful and I’ve been to a lot of amazing places. This place has to be #1. There’s just too much and the culmination of colors sounds and the magic of feeling like you were being held in this valley like they were the hands of the earth was pretty epic.

Ok dramatic reenactment over. Austin asked if he could swim under the falls. Sure I said. The water was not warm. And approaching the falls is like I imagine approaching a car wash. The force of the wind was enough so he didn’t make it totally under it but got close enough.

We tracked the 4 miles back. This time too tired to even go to the beach to clean off.

We drove back to our house in almost silence. It was a long and magical day.

Vietnam

Vietnam. 

The last episode of The Vietnam Documentary by Ken Burns is titled “The Weight of Memory”.  Somehow that seemed to sum up my aversion to learning much about the Vietnam war prior to my feet being on the land. I think like a lot of my generation we knew our parents and grandparents thoughts on it but I really hadn’t had the opportunity to form a solid opinion on it. 

I’m a super nerd about World War II. I kid you not I’ve read more on that topic than any other. One of my favorite books is on the economics of WWII and how money plays such a crucial role in war(Ya I know, I have no idea, I’m weird?) I had largely avoided the Vietnam war. I think I really just didn’t want to know, that somehow, even though no war story truly has a happy ending, this one would be like going to watch a depressing movie, you would leave feeling horrible. 

Let me be the first to say I still don’t know anything. I feel like it’s a topic that covers decades, generations, and is so vast a subject I would likely never be able to figure it all out. The last words from the Embassy in Saigon before it fell were from a CIA officer and they struck me as profound, he said:

"This will be final message from Saigon station.

"It has been a long and hard fight, and we have lost. This experience, unique in the history of the United States, does not signal necessarily the demise of the United States as a world power.”

"Those who fail to learn from history are forced to repeat it. Let us hope that we will not have another Vietnam experience and that we have learned our lesson."

As it’s my favorite quote to hammer into my children about history, I was slightly embarrassed for the necessary reminder for my own edification. 

I have huge respect for anyone who serves our country. I have long felt as if I came from a military family. I have expected to hang flags from my house on the 4th of July, and marveled at the silent legacy having two grandfathers who served in WWII left me. More than that I had an experience when we went to Normandy France to the the US cemetery there. I remember standing at the grave stone of a 17 year old, thinking how sad that there was likely no one who remembered him anymore as clearly he had no time to have a family or children, I then looked to the soldier buried to him, a 19 year old. Next to him a 21 year old, another 19 year old, 18,18 and so on. They were so young and they gave everything before they’d even had a chance to really live much. I felt profoundly sad and grateful at the same time. Most everything good or blessed I have in my life I owe in some part to these young people. 

I learned a lot in the last few days about the Vietnam war. Clearly Vietnam has their own take on the war. Our visit to the War Remnant Museum formerly known as the “Exhibition House for US and Puppet Crimes” (Clearly they were looking for a larger audience and softened the name.) It is a 4 story museum. The section I liked best was devoted to photography from the war. It had both the photos and writings of the war photographers, many of whom died there. Some of the photos I’d seen others I had not. Some were graphic and it was questionable I think if it was something for kids but I felt like it was good to see, even if it was not really possible to understand. However, the kids favorite part was the gun display. Taking turns naming off weapons they could identify;/

The photo I thought was most profound was the one that met you when you opened the doors. A picture of a GI giving mouth to mouth to his fellow soldier in a desperate attempt to save him while soldiers crouches on the ground nearby.  

The capitalist 

 

Photo from War Remnants Meuseum Vietnam 

My stern attempts to get the kids to be reverent in this somber place was failing and subsequently they spent a great deal of time there in the atrium annoying each other for entertainment. Eventually we wondered around the American military machines left behind which held more interest for them.  

It was clear there was an underlying very one sided take on the war. It left out a lot of actual history, China’s role, the government in South Vietnam, etc.  But still I felt presented some interesting displays, if anything seeing the other sides view of history can be the most informative. 

The next day we opted to go to the Mekong Delta which is about a 2 hour drive away. Our driver “Long” (this would be important because when he leaned over to ask the bus driver his name he laughed, composed himself for a moment, and then let us know that the drivers name as Gu, but in English we as Ga which apparently means penis...., it’s stupid humor but I laughed a lot over that). Anyhow after the driver met us we impatiently  waited for Todd...who’s always late, to show. “Your husband?” He asked about 5 times. Finally Todd showed up. I’d fill him in on our driver and guides names, and then laugh some more like an immature 12 year old. We drive to the jungle stoping on the way to see where they make bricks and candy. We enjoyed our time ate some crazy fried fish, rode bikes, and paddled up a river. 

To say it’s a jungle is an understatement. I was rather amazed we weren’t eaten alive by mosquitos.  

The kids loved the hotel here...it had free food so they were basically always in the lobby eating food. 

I left Vietnam profoundly grateful we’d gone there. Not just for having seen the beautiful country it is, or meetings its charming people, but for having confronted a piece of our past and done what in my mind was the main take away from our visit here which is that I am lucky. I watched my two sons walk past an old US  helicopter smiling and comparing their video game knowledge of it knowing full well that had they come to this earth 50 years sooner they could be walking past it under entirely different circumstances. Vietnam and the US will forever be linked by those events, but I was impressed with how far we’ve come in just one generation.