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Sun. January 9, 2000
Kilauea: Unplugged
A special treat this morning allowed everyone to sleep in an hour later than most mornings so far. Nick, Matt, Kristin, and I barely woke up when the Benham's and other students broke in for the morning to do breakfast. Piled up on the floor (except Kristin) we were a groggy bunch. Somehow we did manage to drag ourselves out of "bed" and join the group for pancakes, eggs, and sausage. Once we reached past that hurdle I showered and typed out my thoughts of the previous day. I've really poured my heart into these entries which can often take a lot of time. For me, it's worth it.
Once typing was complete I saddled up, dawned my new raincoat, strapped on the ol' GPS and headed out to tackle a short hike around the crater rim of Kilauea Volcano. The trail that encircles the rim of this geologically young feature is a mere few minute stroll from the building where we spend our nights. Once there only a metal beam fence (and mental stability) protects visitors from a multiple hundreds of feet drop to the caldera floor below. I followed the gravelly path along this ledge and almost gasped at the sheer size and raw, powerful nature of Kilauea. My view was partially shrouded by mist and clouds but I could tell that my stomach was uneasy when presented with such a sight. Beyond my three-dimensional perception capabilities lay the hardened volcanic mass. Most of the mass below me had surfaced in the ancient time of 1940 or before. Under my feet and to both sides jutted up great crater walls of basalt. The layered basalt of the walls is jagged and crumbling which has broken off in large earth movement that landed in piles on the floor below. Venting steam rose up from gashes all over the area. Some of these actually lay just on the rim edge and the steam shot up and away from me over the crater. I somewhat defied my fears of edges (not heights) by standing so very close to a feature that could easily slip via gravity's pull toward the inside of the crater. I turned left at a junction between trails, choosing one that would take me across the road, through a more heavily forested area, and past vents that were not only fuming steam but also held sulfur in the mix. As I past one vent after another I could smell greater amounts of sulfur, reaching a maximum at the Sulfur Banks feature. I could only stand the putrid smell of rotten eggs for a few minutes so I set about on the remainder of the trail. This small leg of the parks overall trial system ended at the Volcano Art Gallery. The building is an old hotel built in the mid-1800s that hasn't housed guests since the 1940s. Local artists and others
contributed works that capture the spirit and beliefs of the Hawaiian islands. Blown glass, shaped copper, carved koa wood bases, and prints of photos and paintings filled the rooms of the hotel. One blown glass work had solid colors within it that are actually placed at different layers in the glass, giving it a subtle yet striking depth. My shallow college wallet settled on purchasing a simple cobalt blue glass necklace with the figure of a hammerhead shark (or Mano Kihi Kihi) and a bamboo recorder. Satisfied with my purchases I returned to the trail and walked about a mile back to KMC.
It was dry upon my return to the firehouse which was uncharacteristic for the weather on my hike. It did, nevertheless, offer a greater opportunity to capture some shots of the inside of Kilauea. Brook joined me with his camera and we walked the short distance to the picturesque viewpoints. We were fortunate enough to have a clear view across the caldera floor to the Halema'uma'u crater — current residence for the Hawaiian god of fire Pele. We recorded a handful of pictures and soon returned to our current residence in the old KMC firehouse.
The basic story for the rest of my day is as follows:
- watched the Discovery channel (more than 3 hours)
- dinner (an hour or so)
- watched more cable (too long)
- once the women left, we attempted one armed push-ups and pull-ups
- sleep


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