As a mother-to-be, I’m not sure it gets any better than listening to your little one’s heartbeat. My husband and I recorded it this morning. I’m really looking forward to meeting this little guy. You can listen to his heartbeat by clicking here: Heartbeat 2010-10-31

Kilauea Volcano may very well be the world’s most active volcano and has been continuously flowing since 1983. Kilauea is home to Pele, The Hawaiian Volcano Goddess.  Madame Pele is known for her passionate, volatile, and capricious nature. If you drive down through Puna to get to where Kalapana used to be, you can see the lava flowing, especially if you go at night.  We went during the day and saw 2 day old lava, parts of it were still smoldering. Given the heat, toxic fumes, and baby on the way, that was enough for me. The patterns in the lava fascinated me, as did it’s hardness given its young age. While the lava has destroyed the village of Kalapana, it has also created more than 491 acres of new land.

And to quote my husband: “I’m sorry Intercourse, PA 17534. You’re no longer the coolest zip code in the country.”

]]> http://jackiehogan.com/2010/06/volcano-the-park-and-village/feed/ 0 http://jackiehogan.com/2010/06/nani-waimea/ http://jackiehogan.com/2010/06/nani-waimea/#comments Fri, 04 Jun 2010 17:43:12 +0000 jackie http://jackiehogan.com/?p=200 The bucolic hills of Waimea are always beautiful, but sometimes they’re truly extraordinary. Nani means beautiful, pretty, or lovely in Hawaiian.

It was a perfect day to lie around in the grass with Eric and Nani (our doggie).

We had no idea what to do with the chicken and never felt more like city folk. We managed to put the chicken in a Zappos shoe box without touching it, and got in the truck intending to take the chicken to the woods. But then we wondered if that was the right thing to do. We didn’t want to leave it there half dead to die a horrible death and also didn’t want to kill it in case it had a chance to survive. So we called the Human Society since, of course, there’s no animal control where we live. They told us to kill it if we thought it was going to die anyway and bury it, eat it, or use it for fertilizer under a plant (no joke)! So we turned around to go home to kill the chicken. We discussed drowning it, cutting its head off with a shovel (as suggested by the humane society), or smashing its head with a hammer. I favored the latter and volunteered to do the deed. On the way home, we ran into our friend who has a farm and asked her what to do. She said she’d been “putting it out there that she wanted a chicken” and assessed the chicken. She surmised it was simply in shock, would survive, and gladly took the chicken! We were so relieved, and are hoping for a few eggs.

When I adopted Nani from the Humane Society I asked if she had any behavior issues. The only thing the lady said that once Nani saw a chicken and tracked it for a long time, incessantly barking. And this isn’t the first time I’ve seen her go cuckoo for chickens.

Listen to the Big Island whales LIVE at: http://www.jupiterfoundation.org

I took these photos with a small digital camera. Imagine them in real life!

And if you’re fortunate enough to get out on a boat, you’ll likely get some amazing views of the mountains:

Like most great experiences in Hawaii, there’s no map or entry in the guide book. You need to rely on your network of friends and local community. We followed the verbal instructions given to us by a friend: “drive down Mud Lane until the paved road ends, 4wd a ways, look for the second gate, park, hop the gate, and follow the trail.” Well, there were many gates and many trails; thankfully, we found right one. Google satellite maps helped.

Hike along the way to a waterfall

Similar to previous hikes, there were deep puddles. It was a guaranteed wet feet situation, hard core winter weather hiking boots or not. As far as I’m concerned, wet feet in shoes while hiking is unbearable. Eric finally convinced me to abandon the trash bag booties concept (see previous post), take the boots off, put my slippers (Hawaiian for flip flop) on, and get my feet wet like a big girl. He was not only nice enough to mule my muddy boots (and water, jacket, extra shirt, snacks, phone, wallet, gum, hair bobbles, etc), but he also waited patiently while I switched my boots and slippers a handful of times. How great is my husband?

braving the mud puddle (much deeper than it looks). Nani didn't mind at all.

We hiked for about an hour not knowing if we’d reach the waterfalls or not, and then we heard the water. yey!

the "bridge"

I was hesitant to cross the “bridge” at first, I even put the leash on Nani for fear that she’d fall into the passing waterfall. Fortunately, the “bridge” was a non-event, and we all made it safely to the other side where we discovered a beautiful waterfall and swimmy hole. I couldn’t resist taking a dip!

waterfall swimmy hole

It felt just like a living postcard. Pure Paradise.  After good long while, we carried on to the next waterfall.

waterfall sans swimmy hole

Wowee!

Then we ran into a nice local family and tried to get directions to the back of Waipio Valley. We followed the directions and ended up on a VERY muddy path, rich with boar hoof prints, lots of them. We met another nice guy who had just crossed paths with 20 boars. Sounds fun, but I’m glad I missed out on the experience.

hmmmm.....

Eric doesn't mind mud, or wet feet

The thing is, Eric brought hiking shoes and chose not to wear them. He loves the freedom of a slipper, despite the caked on mud which got much much worse than you see here in this photo. Anyhoo, we turned around after awhile, never reaching Waipio Valley (again)! We got back in the truck and thought maybe we could drive down the rest of Mud Lane and reach it from the other side. 30 minutes down the 4wd road only to reach a gate – so typical of Hawaii. Nani had the right idea though. Next time, we’ll hop the gate and carry on. We’re going to reach the back of Waipio so stay tuned….

And, of course, we had some fun along the way

Ms. Aloha Nui

Ms. Aloha Nui is an Island wahine (woman) with “plus-size” (over 200lbs) personality, who exemplifies the “Aloha Spirit” with graciousness, beauty and talent. I love Hawaii!

My wonderful husband and I were on our way to the gym in Waimea this morning. It took a bit of effort to rally ourselves to exercise. Halfway there traffic came to a dead stop. There’s only one major road where we live. After patiently waiting for 15 minutes, we learned that the 34th annual Paniolo Parade is today. An Australian tourist walking by reported: “there’s a bunch of people just standing around on horses.” She seemed pretty aggravated.

We knew in Hawaiian time this meant the parade had yet to start. Here in Hawaii, it’s better to jettison the plan and embrace the moment. Also, there is no other road to the gym (or anywhere else for that matter). So we parked and walked over to the parade. I’m so glad we did because it was truly a unique experience, in fact, pretty much awesome. A nice lady thoughtfully introduced each parade participant to the public. On the steps to the Parker School, there were folks dressed as traditional Hawaiian royalty. The parade participants stopped in front of them and presented offerings. I especially enjoyed all the flowers on the floats and the beautiful outfits worn by the paniolos (Hawaiian cowboys).

After the parade, we joined the rest of Waimea at the festival, complete with crafts, music and local grindz – including deep fried oreo.

And just as we were leaving, these boys were making their way from the parade to the festival. Now that’s Hawaiian!

this mean cow charged me!

CHARGED BY A COW

My husband and I tried to hike to the back of Waipio Valley today, again. We were hiking in a cloud, as you often are in Waimea regardless of whether or not you’re in the hills. It felt a little ominous. Also, there were cows, lots of cows, hundreds of cows, cows with baby cows. But up the hill we went. Came within about 30 feet of a white-faced black and white cow. I said “hi pretty” and she charged me! The nerve! I instinctively raised my hands and yelled at her (not sure where I learned this interesting technique). She backed off, gave me a stink eye, and then charged us again. This time my we both raised our hands and yelled. Apparently, my husband and I are scary enough to fend off a mean mama cow. The rest of the hike uphill past the 400 cows was harrowing to say the least. The barbed wire fence didn’t help as i envisioned gouging myself to death in our attempts to escape a stampede. On the way down, I went east coast and pulled out my iphone to google “cow attacks” before exposing ourselves again. Apparently, getting maimed or killed by a cow is a realistic possibility – especially if there are babies involved. So we snaked ourselves under the barbed wire fence and safely made our way down.

we found 2 sleeping dogs here

DOG SHELTER

At the forest entryway, there’s a shelter for lost dogs and a billboard for owners to post notes. There were 2 lost dogs, panting below a chicken scratch note from their owner posted to the board with duct tape. One of the two dogs followed us for about an hour until the owner came by to claim him; I guess the other was too busy licking the beer cans strewn about in the shelter to join us. This was the 2^nd time a lost dog followed me on this trail. What are the chances? The first time I was alone and a pit bull with a 5 inch wide collar and 8 inch tongue came up out of no where on my heels. She stayed right on my heels for about a half hour until she spied her owner in the distance; the moment she saw him she took off like a bat outta hell. Anyhoo, I guess local folks take (and lose) their dogs pig hunting in the woods here often.

I'm not proud of this

I can't believe he went along with this

PUDDLES & TRASHBAG BOOTIES!

Then came the big puddle. Trust me, it was deeper than it looks. It stopped us dead in our tracks the last time so we came prepared – with white kitchen trash bags to use as foot booties. Brilliant. I’m the proud owner of this idea (I abhor wet feet). However, my husband willingly played along without nary a question so I regard him as equally responsible. He went first. His first attempt was a total bust. Deep mud, not good. So off to the other side and he made it, thanks to his long legs. Something about my husband traversing a mud puddle in kitchen trashbag booties KILLS me. I tried and my trashbag bootie leaked. I was feeling rather vulnerable after the cow incident so I bailed and we turned around.

Next time – contractor bags, galoshes, my cold weather hiking boots, or acceptance of wet feet.