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Truckin' It on the Big Island

© Colleen Kaleda

So here we were, out on our first full day on the Big Island of Hawaii, and I'd already managed to get in trouble. Well, sort of.

[While most of the world decided to forego travel on Jan. 1, my parents and I hopped a plane in the morning of the new millenium and flew effortlessly over the Pacific Ocean to perfect blue skies and 80-degree island breezes. Less than 75 others shared our jumbo MD-80 built for 300. That room-to-spread feeling followed us to the Big Island, where only a few fellow vacationers strolled along the beaches and streets. It was like being in the eye of a hurricane, a calm, miniature off season flung in the middle of the normally busy Hawaiian winter.]

So why not explore Paradise a little?, I thought. My parents, oh-so-trusting of my independent travel guiding skills, followed my lead that first day. I had read about an ancient Hawaiian heiau (temple) set high above the Kohala coast. I thought it would make for a scenic and cultural excursion. I didn't know it would turn into the unexpected little adventure it did.

The road leading to the heiau was described as rough, but I hadn't expected it to be full of deep, 20-foot by 20-foot puddles resembling muddy ponds. Nor did I expect the road to go on for so long. Because of the crumbling condition of the tiny road, we parked the car where the roughness began. We then decided to get out and walk after being told by a group of local young men that it was just about "a half-mile" to the heiau -- a reasonable distance. A half mile was about all my mother's nice white sandals could bear, plus the thirst that would be left unquenched by the forgotten water bottle left in the parked car.

So my brave parents followed me down this unnamed road, buoyed by my enthusiasm and the quiet, empty fields and dazzling blue ocean surrounding us on all sides. We walked and walked along this crumbly dirt swath under the midday sun, skirting the edges of the gigantic puddles with just inches to spare. There wasn't another soul out. Soon it became clear that the heiau, still out of sight, was A LOT more than a casual half-mile away. We'd already gone almost a mile. Suddenly, I'd led my parents too far away from the comfort of the rental car, too far out to turn back but too far to go to keep going. My mother limped along in her white sandals.

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