A Dawn Makapuu Lighthouse Hike

  makapuu lighthouse

makapuu

ocean at makapuu

dawn makapuu hike

grey makapuu ocean

red crested cardinal

One of my thirty-three goals to accomplish this year was to take an early morning hike that ended with a sunrise view, and I felt that doing so while in Hawaii would be one of my best opportunities for a number of reasons, namely the relative ease of getting high enough to get a decent view of the horizon, and the time difference working to my advantage since I’m not what anyone would call a morning person*. After a bit of research, I determined that the hike to Makapuu Lighthouse would be the ideal morning route–only about two miles round-trip with a relatively low chance of serious injury due to hiking in the dark with a flashlight. Since I was staying on the North Shore and Makapuu Lighthouse Point is on the opposite side of the island, I set my alarm clock for 3:30 so I’d arrive at the end of the trail with plenty of time before magic hour began. Sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night so as not to wake the others was an unusual experience. Stars glittered thickly across the sky, and I saw the Milky Way for the first time.

The drive across the island was quiet, but not deserted. What was deserted was the park: it doesn’t officially open until 7am, half an hour after the sunrise. The reviews I’d read told me to expect this, to park down the road a bit, and to clamber through the gate to access the trailhead, so that’s what I did. It’s eerie hiking in the dark. Your light bobs across the trail, and you become keenly aware of everything you can’t see–all of the eyes that could be watching you approach, taking advantage of the fact that you’re on unfamiliar terrain, and circling behind you to crack you on the head and take your stuff. Yes, I have been watching too much Walking Dead recently, why do you ask?

The hike itself was easy, and ended with a rocky area that led to a few observation platforms. I arrived well before sunrise, so I had a drink of water and sat down to wait. All of a sudden, Jason said “That’s a big bird!” I saw its dark brown back half swooping around the platform and looked to see where it might have gone to get a better look. Evidently, it wanted a better look at us as well, because the next thing I knew, this enormous owl was hovering above us and darting down as if to attack. I threw my hands over my head in a defensive posture that can only be described as “horrified flailing” and immediately regretted the owl-taunting I’d engaged in recently. It swooped around us again and I seriously prepared myself to fight an owl with my purse. It pump-faked at us again and then flew away. I remained paranoid for the rest of the hike. Was there a nest nearby? Was I inadvertently getting closer to it? It was one of those rare moments in life where you hope to not find something. You want the cancer scan to be clear, the house to have gone undisturbed in your absence, and the attack owl to be anywhere other than where you are. Eventually, I saw another spot of light moving up the trail, which confirmed my earlier suspicions about how easy it is for others to see and track a light while the carrier of the light has no idea that they’re being observed. I watched them until they made their way to the other platform. By that time, golden light had begun creeping over the horizon. As it grew closer to dawn, more and more people arrived, much too talkative for this early in the day. What never really arrived was the sunrise. It got progressively brighter, but a cloud wall obscured the actual sunrise, and shortly after that, fog rolled in and it began to rain. By the time we made it back down to our car, the parking lot was packed full of cars and tour buses, and I was glad I’d gone before the rest of the world was awake. It was an amazing trip–just watch out for the owl.   *I can’t even count the number of times that I’ve said to myself before going to sleep that I was going to start getting up early and exercising in the mornings, but I can tell you that when every single one of those mornings has come, I responded to my previous day’s resolve with “ugh, no” and burrowed deeper into the covers.

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Spotted on the Roadside: Washington’s Golden Gate Bridge

The best part about owning your own property (I prefer to be called a land baron) is that you can customize everything to your liking. I know nothing about this little Golden Gate bridge that’s spanning a pond on private property in Ridgefield other than the fact that I love it, and I think some giant koi would take the whole thing to the next level. Or maybe some other wee versions of American landmarks? Or, I guess they could keep it the way it is. That’s fine, too.

Spotted at the intersection of NE 10th Ave & NE 209th St in Ridgefield, WA

This Doesn’t Deserve Its Own Post: Portland Edition

Little Shop of Hairs is the most delightful name for a salon ever. EVER.

I made a special trip to The Candy Basket to see what they were claiming is the world’s largest continuous chocolate fountain. Their claim may hinge on the word “continuous” as it’s definitely not as large as the Guinness-verified Bellagio chocolate fountain. Even “continuous” is a stretch since it’s not actually working right now, and according to the employee at the shop, hasn’t worked for a while. Boo! Hiss!

I loved this artwork, and I’m tempted to put out a wee “I’m watching you” Lorax for those little bastards who get high behind my house.

This is the best version of the food pyramid I’ve ever seen. It is important to eat your pizza vegetables!

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Dear Portland, I fixed your sign. You’re welcome. Everyone who counts loves Ned Flanders!  

* I tried to visit the Rimsky-Korsakoffee House as I’d heard it praised as something that was helping to keep Portland weird. Unfortunately, it was packed full and was so hot that I couldn’t bear to stay inside (I know, what a delicate flower). Apparently the bathroom is pretty creepy, but there was also a line for that, and I draw the line at waiting in line to look at a bathroom.

* At one point during my trip, I was getting ready to leave my parallel parking space when a man stepped behind the car and stooped over in the street. I assumed he was tying his shoe, and since he was so close to the car and I needed to back up to exit the space, I decided to wait until he was done because I didn’t want to scare him. I know that I would be startled to see a car backing up on me, especially if I wasn’t sure they’d seen me behind them. But he seemed to be taking an awfully long time. “What is he doing? Relacing both shoes? Why would be doing that in the street when there’s a sidewalk right there?” I thought. All I could see in the rearview mirror was the back of his head and his stooped shoulders. So imagine my surprise when he turned around, locked eyes with me in the mirror, and screamed “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME”. I was definitely in a hurry to comply, and as we pulled out, Jason informed me that the guy was actually setting up a tea party in the street. But by the time I rounded the block, his tea party was packed up and he was gone, less than a minute later. I’m calling it now: I just had an encounter with a tea-pouring ghost.

* I’ve been using DogVacay to find hosts for Napodog while I’m out of town. His regular hosts, whom I love, were unavailable for this trip, so I chose someone else in the area. This is the first time that I’m less than thrilled with the outcome–I didn’t know when I booked that there would be so many other dogs there. When I dropped him off, there were six, and the host indicated that more would be arriving. The house was torn up and it reeked. I didn’t feel great about leaving him there, but I didn’t really have a choice, and he seemed to be getting along with the other dogs. When I came to pick him up (a bit earlier than I’d indicated I would), they’d had him shut up in the garage by himself. His bark is hoarse, like he’d spent a lot of time protesting something. How long had he been in the garage?  Were they planning on keeping him in there until the time they expected I’d be back? The smell of the house had also rubbed off on him and his bed. I can’t know if they mistreated my buddy but I don’t feel good about it and I will absolutely never bring him back to that host. That’s the thing about DogVacay: you don’t really know what you’re getting until it’s too late, even with reviews, because it’s awkward to leave a negative review publicly for a person and their house, especially if you’re only operating on a suspicion of what went on while you were away.