Alcohol-induced anti-socialism

One more flow visit this morning and one more barrier stood in between us and our viewing of the red rock. Once at the end of the Chain of Craters Road the small group of us suited up and wandered up to the first ridge where we could see the plum where the lava enters the ocean. The wind seemed carry the dangerous steam offshore but was a very swift breeze that Dr. Benham didn't want to fight. He pulled us back for fear that such a strong wind could change for the worse once out on the flow. I'm glad he knows when to say when though. I feel safer because of it. Plus, at least we didn't hike all the way out to the flow and get skunked again like the last two times. I am, so far, not at all dissappointed from seeing no flowing lava. The hike out there is a stunning experience all of its own. How many times in a normal life does anyone get to walk on hardened, day old Earth?

Once back at KMC we satisfied a lunchtime craving for BLTs. The plan was then to hit a library in Hilo to start our research for our final papers. I'm going to try to do mine on the mythological Hawaiian view of the stars and how, because it was used for navigation, it marked the beginning of the end of the islands' seclusion. Anyway, I did find some good information that mainly says once Captain Cook got to the islands and wondered how the Hawaiians got there no one knew because it took place 500 years before. We'll see if, in light of these facts, I can dig some astronomy-related myths up. The Hilo public library is partially open to the outside air which proved to be a beautiful environment to study in. A slightly cool breeze tickled the back of my neck as a few of us flipped through our various textual sources. I think at that point we all agreed that PLU should promptly be relocated in Hilo.

After almost getting kicked out of the library due to the excessive noise our group was putting out we did some switching around of vans and hit the Dairy Queen across the street. The Blizzard I devoured was awesome and hit the spot. It made for a great energy boost for our next stop: The(e) Banyon Tree. Nick, Matt, Kristin, the Benhams and I spent the rest of our afternoon in the shade of the massive and very playable tree. We again spent most of our time there swinging from one of the strong vines that dangle down in search of the ground. Grace and style were the name of the game this time around. I would swing to the tree, grab hold of it, send the vine back to Nick, he would swing over, I would take the vine and swing back to where I started. Very cool swings if you ask me. I'm also very proud of Matt for finally being able to grab hold of the tree from the vine. He had trouble with this last time around but somehow beat the odds this time around. Props to him. Nick wins the "Monkey Boy" award for the day. He climbed to somewhere around the 80' level above us. Mrs. Benham's heart had some trouble watching Nick wander around that height up in the tree. He got down safe and sound and, as I said, earned our respect for his monkey-like nature. The time we spent under the tree was beautiful and well spent. I'm stilled amazed that such a vine could hold us safely off the ground and give us all such joy.

Back in the van toward KMC we then went. Post dinner activities included a bit of mac nut shell smashing. Nick used a rock hammer and Brooke and I used rocks to separate the mac nut shells from their precious cargo. Twenty pounds of unshelled nuts will, much to our surprise, only yeild about three cereal bowls full. It's now hard for me to wonder why mac nuts are such an expensive property. Once we got some frustration out of our system a few of us went down the road toward the steam vents via Moonlight. We originally intended to use that time for some star gazing but the Moon proved brighter than would be conducive to do so. Once back to camp, everyone split off to one of the other rooms to intake a bit of alcohol. I would've had joined them if not for two important things: I don't drink and don't really like to be around drinking (not my favorite side of people) and I had the pleasure of phoning Sarah tonight. Why, you might ask, would talking to Sarah have any bearing on my decision not to join the "party"? Well, I really miss being near, hearing, and holding Sarah. Merely talking to her over the phone rendered my mind useless. It's difficult to talk to her on the phone one minute, relating stories to one another about our journies while then next minute the only connection between us is severed. In that instant we were catapolted from ear shot to nearly 7,000 miles away. The distance really hurt me last night and I didn't think social activity of any sort would rub me the right way. Especially if the fun revolves around alcohol.

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Sat. January 22, 2000

Alcohol-induced anti-socialism

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