Whew.
The past few days have flown by. I've been camping and beach hopping on the other side of the island, among other things. Let's see if I can relay this properly:
Tuesday I woke up a little early with the intention of walking M and K to their bus stop. They had planned on camping for a few days before they both flew home. Long story short, they convinced me to go with them. Why not? I'm on vacation, after all. After packing my shit, we jumped in the back of a truck with another couple headed to Hilo. From Hilo we would take a bus to Kailua. I was excited to be venturing away from not only the hostel, but from this side of the island. I needed a change of scenery and camping sounded great.
Once in Hilo, we were dropped off at the mall, where we had some time to kill and so proceeded to walk around and drink beers out of a paper cup. We wanted to keep things classy, after all. There was a small arcade, which made me long for some skee-ball with my bitches back in Denver. This arcade didn't even have skee-ball. Boo. We ate some noodles and wandered back toward our stop at the mall.
Just before the bus was to arrive, we asked an adorable group of old ladies to take our picture, which led to our finding out that we were in the wrong place to catch the bus. Yay! Luckily one of the ladies, adorable Patsy, told us to get in her car, and she drove us to the next stop, where the bus was boarding. She told us she would park her car right in front of the bus so that it couldn't leave without us. I thought this was funny until she actually did it, then it was awesome and hilarious. She got out to hug and kiss us goodbye, and went on her way. Much love, Patsy.
We had to put our bags under the bus, and when that was done, we found ourselves some seats near each other and were again glad to be on the road.
Twenty minutes later M had to pee. It was urgent. I had to pee too. Urgently. Damn!
And so we had to get off the bus. M and I pressed the button for the next stop. We suggested to K that she stay on the bus so that she could get her rental car but she refused and got off the bus with us. Immediately it was apparent that we were in for a rough trip.
Let me say this before I say anything else: K, I love you girl, and had the circumstances been different, I'm sure things would have had a smoother flow. Aloha always.
So there was a freak-out on the side of the road which I had to turn around and walk away from. We had to get to the highway anyway. Pack time. Walk time. I didn't want to argue because there was nothing that could be done about the situation except to just deal with it. About fifteen minutes later we were in a good place to hitch from on the highway. Then there was another freak-out of epic proportions, but while it was going down, a guy in a jeep pulled over to pick us up, or ask questions, or who-knows-what. I didn't wait to hear anything. I immediately opened the door, and essentially just said the word 'Kona.' Luckily the guy, N, was headed that way to his condo, so we all three piled in, thankful to be off the road, and thankful for no more goddamn freaking out. We could relax, at least until we got to Kailua.
Approximately one and a half minutes into the drive, N passed a "road soda" into the back seat for our enjoyment or choking pleasure. Imagine a Nalgene bottle half-full of vodka, and topped off with Powerade. What better way to cool our throats and top off whatever beer buzz we may have had going? Mistake. K had enough to pass out about an hour into the drive and remain unconscious for about seven hours straight.
Once we arrived in Kailua, M, N and I left princess K asleep in the jeep an got into some shenanigans. We drunkenly walked down to the rocky beach at one point. It wasn't until the next morning that I realized I had left my boots on the beach overnight and so would have to deal with damp, stinky boots for the rest of the trip. It was no worse than dealing with my princess K, but I felt like an idiot. I would have been screwed without those boots. Anyway, I found them, that's what matters.
The next morning K informed M and I that she had drunkenly, angrily changed her flight to the next day, so she wouldn't be renting a car, and we would only be camping for one night instead of several. This also meant that we would now be either hitching or hiking to wherever we planned on camping that evening, and truthfully we did not have a plan.
We packed up our things, said goodbye to N, and started walking from the condo. Since we were so close to the coast, it made sense for us to walk along Ili'i and try to find a place to camp on a beach. We looked at my map, found a nearby beach, and began moving toward it.
As we were hiking, we happened upon a godsend. Da Poke Shack. I have been craving sushi like a mofo, so there was no way I was passing this place up. Nevermind the scorching sun, thirty-pound pack, or miles ahead of us, I wanted to gorge on fish. Making a selection from the case of poke of every variety was difficult, to say the least. The poke special of the day had my name written all over it: Spicy Ahi with scallions. I scarfed a half a pound like it was my friggin' job. And so, with our bellies full of amazing fish, we set out again with Magic Sands Beach and a dip in the water on our minds.
In an attempt to find an undercover place to camp, we hiked onto a public access beach trail. There was a giant tree that we thought might work, but walked down the beach to check things out further. After looking at the most bug-infested area I have ever been in, we asked a guy who was playing guitar on the beach what he thought about camping in the area. The answer we got was "right back there might work, but honestly I wouldn't go past this point right here." Creepy. So we continued on the Magic Sands.
Magic Sands was great from the start. We plopped our packs on some rocks, laid out our sarongs, and got our shit together for swimming. I am still afraid of the GD ocean, whether I want to be or not, so I didn't really swim. I sat in the water, stood on the beach, and watched small children fearlessly play in deeper water than I was willing to enter. Fuck it. I'm not getting in that shit.
In between splashing around and chilling on the beach, it started to rain. It was heavy enough that we needed shelter, if not for us then at least for our packs, which were getting soaked. M and I pulled out our tarps, and we made ourselves a plastic cave on the beach. It was a happy time.
When we learned from a friend of a friend that camping at Magic Sands wasn't a good idea, we were disappointed in the realization that we would not only be leaving this cush environment but that we would also be hauling our packs around for a while more until we could find the next beach. Nevertheless, we were determined to find someplace to sleep, so we marched on, our drying swimsuits dangling from our packs, dripping a trail of saltwater behind us. The sun would be setting soon, and none of us wanted to set up camp in the dark. Our next destination would be St. Peter's Church beach.
When we arrived at the church, not far from Magic Sands, I immediately knew that this would be a fine camp spot. There were lava rock walls all around, so we would have plenty of cover for the two tents. There was no space for my hammock, so I'd be bunking with M. After surveying the area, we decided to camp in a narrow walkway behind the church. The space was maybe 3 1/2 feet by 16 feet. The ocean was thirty feet away, just beyond the rock wall and a rocky beach. We watched an amazing sunset from here that I'll not soon forget.
We had a beer with a guy who was chilling on the beach, and after he determined for me that I didn't have the correct fuel for my stove, we had to reassess our dinner options. I had a package of freeze-dried mashed potatoes that we all drooled over, until we tried them, that is. I had used luke-warm water instead of boiling water, and it was a mistake. What a total disappointment. So K went for some food. We dined in the dark on hummus and bread, with roaches crawling all around us. The tequila helped the situation a bit. I can also proudly say that I didn't freak out about the bugs, except for when we were breaking camp in the morning and I found not only ants in my pack but an inch-long cockroack as well. Yuck.
Anyway, when it was darker and later, we set up the tents. I crawled in with M, on the rocky ground, and we attempted to sleep. I did not sleep. I spooned a rock that was under the tent and listened to K snore peacefully a tent away. At one point I woke up with my face pressed to the bottom of the tent, my feet on top of my boots, and one arm asleep. Eff. So sleeping didn't really work out, and I was definitely wide awake from 4:30 on, and actually got up out of the tent at six. It's been a long time since I was up at that hour. Watching the ocean roll in and out and listening to its slapping on the rocks as the sun came up at my back was definitely not horrible though, I have to admit.
we set out to return to Magic Sands not long after waking up, and I noticed that I had a sore spot on the bottom of my right foot. Thinking it was from my boot and the fact that it was slightly wet from sitting on the beach two nights before, I marched on with a crazy energy that I could not explain.
We made it to Magic Sands, and M and I went inthe water for a bit. After showering, I figured out why my foot was hurting. I had a deep gash on the underside of my foot. Boo. I bandaged the shit out of it and put my boots back on. This injury would prove to be painful all day.
Da Poke Shack was calling to us from down the road, so we hiked over for lunch before being picked up by a friend of K's. He took her to the airport and M and I to the Kmart in town where we would catch the bus back to Hilo.
So we waited for about four hours on the sharpest grass I've ever lounged on. We ate nothing but sweet bread. The bus took forever. It was uncomfortable. Blahblahblah.
When we got to Pahoa, I was ready for a damn beer. M and I went to PVC (the local bar) and proceeded to turn their open-mic night sausage fest into dance-party dyke-night. We danced our asses off and were shooting pool but not one person was focused on the game or who was playing on what team.
Since then, it's been nothing but beaches, dirty dance music, and dance parties at the hostel. We celebrated everyone's slutty birthday with a giant sheet cake, threw down on some bud lights, and I have personally been having the time of my friggin' life.
I've been working on this post for three days. I hope it's entertaining, but honestly no longer give a shit about the grammar within. Judge not, fair friends.
Until the next freaky episode,
Aloha
