Hell fire -Part 1

The morning air was sweet smelling filled with the aroma of saw grass as I stepped out of the car and into the path of several Nenes. We had made it our goal to get up early and into the park before hordes of other people who were packed into tour busses like sardines in a tin can showed up. Mornings are the best time to do anything around Volcano, Hawaii as the sun is warm and shining through a partially clouded sky. 

The morning air was sweet smelling filled with the aroma of saw grass as I stepped out of the car and into the path of several Nenes. We had made it our goal to get up early and into the park before hordes of other people who were packed into tour busses like sardines in a tin can showed up. Mornings are the best time to do anything around Volcano, Hawaii as the sun is warm and shining through a partially clouded sky. 

Today were having a problem deciding where we should go in Hawaii’s Volcano National Park. We had already hiked several wonderful loop trails, driven to the end of the Chain of Craters road to see the sea arch and visited the volcano observatory with is perched precariously on the rim of the massive Kilauea caldera. After a sort of passive-aggressive tug of war of wills my wife decided to humor me and hike several grueling miles of switchbacks down to the sea.

Hawaii’s National Volcano Park’s is a giant step back into a primordial paradise where giant tree ferns, yellow blooming ginger and a plethora of orchids and palms line both sides of the park’s main access road. It was like traveling back into time to the Jurassic Park period where I truly expected to see a Brontosaurs poke its towering head through the jungle canopy. I was happy that I had gotten my way and was actually starting to gloat as we turned down the Hilina Pali Road to our trailhead to the sea. After several minutes a park ranger’s truck appeared on the one lane road forcing us off to the side to allow her to pass. The ranger stopped and informed us that the road was closed due to a chipping and re-paving project. 

 As we turned around and headed to my wife’s first choice I thought “Providence right, she’s always right so why not just run up the white flag, surrender and get it over with.” Even as I sat on the ground in the parking lot putting on my hiking boots several female banded Nene squawked in unison “You see, you should have listened to your wife in the first place.” 

The sky was completely filled with clouds as the mist continued to float on the air soaking everything that it came in contact with. The hike, which had started through a dense rain forested fern jungle, had abruptly opened up into a barren, black lava flow. We walked for miles over the undulating lava flow that twisted and turned, buckled and exploded out of the ground in what must have been giant gas bubbles.

We walked for miles over this barren wasteland that had so rigidly recorded the May 24^th 1969 catastrophic eruption of Mauna Ulu. The rim of the volcano was now visible through the mist as we veered from the established park’s trail. It’s not encouraged or endorsed to leave established routes and explore but it’s not against the law. For the majority of park visitors it’s definitely a safe bet that they should stay on the trail.

We climbed up several frozen lava flows which formed an almost planned walkway complete with ramps and steps. In some areas the thin lava crust had broken away exposing the interior of a lava tube. The thought of crashing through one of these tubes reminded me what was in the Park’s pamphlet “Stay on the established trail for your own safety”. 

As we approached the top of the volcano steam and gases were being forcibly pushed from cracks that circled the rim. Most of these cracks were six inches wide and separated a patch of ground some six feet in width. I wanted desperately to look over the crumbling lip of the crater and tried several times to get up enough nerve to creep close to the edge.

The cracked and crumbling crater rim both begged me and urged me to come and look over the edge. The lake of fire was calling out to me like a siren’s voice luring weary sailors into the rocks. In the end the fractures and good sense prevailed over temptation and my opportunity to peer into the bottom.

The steam and gases rushing out smelled like sulfur and the water vapor was scalding hot. I never was able to get up enough courage to walk out the fractured ground and look down into the throat of the sleeping monster. 

 I never actually saw the bottom so it made me wonder if there really was a lake of fire churning, bubbling and slapping molten lava up onto the sides of the volcano. I’ll never know because I never looked in. This caused me to speculate about a literal, biblical “lake of fire.”