Category Archives: Parks

Puapo’o lava tube tour

The entrance to Puapo'o Lava Tube — The way in. No elevator here.

Ohia roots hang in the Puapo'o Lava Tube — Ohia trees on the surface send roots down into lava tubes. These roots take in water from the tube’s cool, moist air. In return they offer one of the few sources of organic material and are home to a kind of cricket.

Lava formations in the PUapo'o lava tube — A puapo’o (literally ‘flower head’) lava formation. There’s still uncertainty about how these are formed. To the left are lava-sicles, the lava tube equivalent of stalactites.

A low section of Puapo'o lava tube — Mind your head. There’s a 25-foot-long low section.

As part of the National Park Service centennial celebration, Hawaii Volcanoes National Park has been offering a guided tour of Puapo’o lava tube. This tour has been offered in the past, but not for several years.

Puapo’o is a pristine lava tube meaning that its rock formations are intact and life in the tube is largely undisturbed. Contrast this with the park’s popular Thurston lava tube, where all the finer lava details have long since been broken off by visitors.

There’s a hike to the tube, which is deep within a forest rich in tree ferns.

The tube entrance is accessed by a ladder and then it’s on into the dark. Whereas Thurston lava tube is well lit and has a mostly flat floor for easy walking, Puapo’o, which is about a mile long, was lit only by our headlamps and rocks littered the tube floor. It’s not a tour for the claustrophobic or nervous.

The exit from Puapo'o lava tube — The way out. Heading for the light.

Those rocks on the floor match recesses in the tube ceiling show where rock falls have happened. A month before, one of our rangers had been leading a tour when there was an earthquake, a common occurrence in the park. The group left the tube, but the next visit found a new rock fall.

We scrambled over rocks, and sat in the dark in a large, amphitheater-like part of the tube. As we progressed, the rangers pointed out different lava formations from lava-sicles to bathtub rings to puapo’os for which the tube is named. And even in this pitch dark place, there is life – moths, crickets, and spiders, one a huntsman and the other a tiny, near invisible thing that builds gossamer webs. Also, living on the tube walls, are unique microbial colonies, which are being studied for medical uses.

Eventually, we scrambled up a rocky slope and out through a narrow opening, back into the forest.

For more information about the Puapo’o lava tube tour, go to nps.gov/havo/planyourvisit/lava-tube-tour.htm.

Bathtub rings on the walls of Puapo'o lava tube — Ranger Dean points out bathtub rings on the tube wall. These indicate the level of the flow through the tube at different times.

Hike to Kilauea’s lava flow

The Lava Ocean tour boat edges up to the new bench in the ocean, created by the flow.

A lava breakout from the Kilauea lava flow.

This photo was taken within a few seconds of this lava breakout beginning. The couple on the right hadn’t yet noticed it.

The breakout spreads …

… and extends toward the water. This was about as far as it got while I was there. All these people are standing on the active flow.

Last week, I posted twice (here and here) about a boat trip to see lava entering the ocean from Kilauea Volcano’s Pu’u O’o vent. Since then the ocean entry widened dramatically to more than 700 feet. With all that activity, I thought another hike to the flow was in order. This time, instead of hiking from the viewing area at Kalapana, I decided to go through Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.

The hike starts on the coast, at the end of Chain of Craters Road. It’s about an 8.5 mile round trip, and follows the emergency gravel road constructed in 2014. While the whole area is a stark covering of old lava flows, I liked seeing ferns and the occasional shrub getting a toe hold in cracks and under ledges. And then, with late afternoon light slanting from behind and rain showers approaching from ahead, a brilliant rainbow lit up the sky.

Regarding the current flow, the USGS website notes that “the entire area presents a significant hazard to visitors.” It goes on to list dangers from toxic gasses, explosive events, and unstable ground. So it was with some surprise that when I arrived, I found the flow crawling with people. This wasn’t because it had suddenly stopped and cooled. At the edge, where it crossed the road, the red glow of active lava could be seen. I talked to one of the park rangers keeping an eye on things. He said all they could do was post signs and try and make people understand the dangers. They had roped off some areas and people just stepped over the ropes. It gave me a warm glow to know that, if someone was injured here, that person would understand it was their own fault and wouldn’t turn around and try to sue the park service for millions.

I wandered down the edge of the flow to the cliff where the new bench being formed by the lava could be seen. Then back to the road and I figured, if everyone else is doing it, it must be safe, right? Ha, ha. The thing is, standing next to the flow, the heat was significant, and stepping on to it, it got hotter still. My feet got distinctly toasty, so I took a couple of photos and turned around. A few minutes later, I happened to be looking in the direction of one of the clumps of people standing on a lump of lava. Suddenly, a river a red burst from near the base of the lump. A breakout, and a decent-sized one at that.

Naturally, the people nearest to the breakout quickly moved away from the danger. Ha, just kidding. People rushed toward the lava because, though the surface was obviously unstable and could turn to deadly, molten liquid at any moment, it probably wasn’t going to happen to the lump they stood on. Frankly, it was all a bit surreal.

Later, I saw the ranger I’d talked to earlier doing a brisk trade in fixing the detached soles of shoes – flat tires, he called them – where heat from the flow had melted the glue. As the light dimmed, numerous glowing red patches of lava showed up, speckled with white and yellow flashlights as people meandered through the dark.

It was time to go before someone out there misstepped. I had a three hour drive ahead of me and I didn’t want their screams ringing in my ears.

For more information about Kilauea Volcano and it current eruption, go to hvo.wr.usgs.gov/activity/kilaueastatus.php.
For more information about boat trips to see the lava, go to lavaocean.com.

A rainbow rises over the road to the flow.

Flowing to the ocean

Lava from Kilauea's Pu'u O'o flow. — At twilight, lava flows down Pūlama pali while, at the top of the hill, a smaller breakout can be seen. In the center are two onlookers, illuminated by the glow of flashlights.

Lava from Kilauea's Pu'u O'o flow sets fire to shrubs and trees. — In the early evening, the flow descends the pali, starting fires in surviving stands of trees and shrubs.

The glow of lava from Kilauea's Pu'u O'o flow reflects off the clouds. — As the light fades, the glow from the flow reflects off passing clouds. The white lights are the flashlights of people hiking to or from the flow.

Kilauea's Pu'u O'o flow glows brightly as darkness falls. — The lava flow burns brightly as darkness falls.

In April, I posted here about a trip last year to see lava bubbling up at Kilauea Volcano. That activity was in the Overlook vent of Halema’uma’u Crater. On May 24, Kilauea’s other active vent, Pu’u O’o, began a new breakout of lava toward the southeast. This is a path that flows have taken many times before. The first active lava I saw was back in 2010 when such a flow reached the sea and put on a spectacular show.

This May 24 flow is also headed to the sea. By June 28 it had reached Pūlama pali, a steep slope leading down to the coastal plain. On July 7 it was less than three-quarters of a mile from the ocean, and creeping slowly over previous flows that have taken this path. That’s when I went down to take a look and took these photos.

At its current rate of progress, the flow will reach the ocean in a week. But it could speed up or stop, so it’s really a case of wait and see.

There is one note of irony. I have a map from 1975 showing the road that ran along this coast before being covered by various flows from the volcano. In 2014, a flow from the Pu’u O’o vent headed east, threatening the town of Pahoa and the main highway into that corner of the island. One response to that situation was to bulldoze an emergency highway along the coast, at a cost of $10 million or so, following the route of the old road. It was never used as that flow stopped short of Pahoa. If the current flow travels another a half mile or so, the emergency highway will be covered again without ever being used. Such is life.

For more information about Kilauea Volcano and it current eruption, go to hvo.wr.usgs.gov/activity/kilaueastatus.php.

Abstracts: Kiholo branches

A tangle of curly branches forms a dense thicket along the shore near Kiholo Bay.

Honoli’i Beach Park

A view of Honoli’i Beach Park with Hilo Bay in the background. I do love the lush vegetation on the east side of the island.

Goat grooming

There are numerous wild goats on the island. This one, doing a bit of personal grooming, was part of a large herd at Kiholo Bay.

Lava rises at Kilauea volcano

The lava lake in the Overlook vent at Halema’uma’u Crater.

Kilauea lava crust bubbles and cracks — The slightly cooler surface is broken up by bubbling lava.

A hotspot illuminates the crater wall at Kilauea — A hotspot illuminates the crater wall.

Onlookers at Kilauea — The quiet group reverently looking on had the appearance of a cult at times …

Cult-like gathering at Kilauea volcano. — … Gathered around the mystical ring of fire.

Today marks the anniversary of a trip my wife and I made to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. That’s where Kilauea Volcano, active since 1983, has two vents spewing lava. Flows from Pu’u O’o vent have, over the last few years, reached to the ocean and threatened to take out the town of Pahoa.

The other vent is in Halema’uma’u Crater. It’s known as the Overlook vent since it’s below an old viewing overlook. Since it became active in 2008, it’s been a bubbling pool of lava, varying from 60 to 400 feet below the floor of the crater. By night the lava glow was visible. By day, mostly what could be seen was steam and smoke.

In early April of last year, the lava lake started rising. It rose so much that the lava became visible from the Jaggar Museum, which gives a good view of the main crater. It was time to check it out. The problem was that the spectacle of active lava visible from an accessible spot led to a crush of visitors. The park warned that large crowds were showing up and advised visiting at off peak times.

Lava viewing is more vivid at night, but the scene in daylight is also interesting, so there were two options. Showing up in the afternoon and staying through sunset would be iffy because it was guaranteed to be crowded. The alternative was to arrive before sunrise and stay until it got light. The only snag? We live 100 miles away.

The day before the trip, we turned in early and I set my alarm for 12:01 a.m. We got up and were on the road by 12:35. Driving in the wee hours was actually pretty nice. The stars were out and the roads mostly empty. In Hilo, we stopped at Ken’s House of Pancakes, the Big Island’s only open-24-hours restaurant, and had breakfast at 2:45 a.m., a slightly surreal experience. Then back on the road before pulling into the viewing area parking lot at the Jaggar Museum a little before 4 a.m.

It was cold with the wind making it feel cooler and we weren’t really dressed for the occasion. But there weren’t too many people there, the night sky was gorgeous, and the lava very visible and active. We watched it bubble and spatter, often vigorously. Daylight crept in. As it did so the scene changed and more people began to show up. By 6 a.m. it was light so we left, getting home just after 8:30. It was strange to think that at that relatively early hour we had driven to the farthest side of the island, watched the volcano for a couple of hours, and driven back. Usually at the time the most I can claim is that I’ve made coffee.

As darkness dissipates, lava shoots into the air. — As darkness dissipates, lava bubbles in the crater.

Soon after our visit, part of the crater wall collapsed into the lava causing a big explosion. The lava lake also reached the rim of the Overlook vent and began to spill out onto the main crater floor. We thought these developments were worth making the same trek again. And then the lava went into retreat. It fell back below the rim of the vent. Within days, the lava lake in the vent disappeared from sight and sank back to its former levels, which is where it remains, currently more than 100 feet below the Halema’uma’u Crater floor. (For scale, the active vent opening measures about 500 feet by 700 feet and the distance from the main Halemaumau Crater floor to the rim is about 270 feet.)

For more information about Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, go to nps.gov/havo/. For more information about Kilauea Volcano and it’s eruptions, go to hvo.wr.usgs.gov/kilauea/history/main.html.

Daybreak reveals the onlookers gathered at the Jaggar Museum viewing point.

Kiholo to Mano Point hike

The start of the trail below the parking area at Kiholo.

The house built for Loretta Lynn at Kiholo.

The anchialine pool at the south end of the first beach.

The trail winds down to the bench before Mano Point.

This hike is a not-too difficult, out and back, 4-mile round trip. Aside from wanting to check out this part of the coast, I also wanted to try out a new pair of shoes, more suited to hiking, rather than the old pair of walking shoes I’d been flogging my toes in recently.

The access road to the trailhead can be rough, but on this occasion had been recently graded, at least down to the private road near the bottom. The hike follows the coast south from the Kiholo parking lot. There’s camping here Friday through Sunday, but on this day it was much quieter – three people on the beach when I set out, not many more when I returned. The day was hot, as it usually is on this coast, and the vog was thick enough to chew on.

The hike starts out crossing the first of three black sand beaches. It’s part of Kiholo State Park Reserve, which means it’s a park for which the plans have not yet been finalized. Behind this first beach is a house built by country singer Loretta Lynn back in the 1980s. It’s boarded up now, but is tabbed to be some sort of visitor/cultural center in the new park. Check back in 10 years or so to see how things are going!

At the south end of the beach is an anchialine pool. After the pool, the trail winds up and over a’a lava to another smaller black sand beach. There’s another up and over to the third beach, Luahinewai, which is backed by a large private residence, overlooking another anchialine pool and surrounded by vegetation. The second and third beaches were deserted, the a’a lava lumpy, the new shoes doing a splendid job of cushioning my feet.

After this third beach the trail heads up onto the lava for a while and crosses inland from Nawaikulua Point until it reaches a lava bench backed by vegetation. The trail, which is marked by some rounded stones in the trail and white coral markers on the edges, ends here. Mano Point is reached by crossing the lava bench, which is not difficult but, as always, requires keeping an eye on the ocean. On this day the waves were thudding against the edge of the bench, sending spray into the air and some whitewater onto the bench.

It was a day for keeping toward the back of the bench. A couple of days earlier, when the surf was higher, it would have been a place to avoid altogether. On a calmer day one could walk along the edge of the bench. This is an area of tide pools, arches, and collapsed lava tubes that have become surging inlets.

Mano Point itself is not much of a point, but it is easy to identify because it’s where most of the vegetation ends. It’s also marked by a black-bordered, yellow sign (only the back of which is seen from the land), which I think means that no aquarium fish collection (a contentious issue here) is allowed south of the sign. The return is back the same way. I took a dip in the water at one of the beaches on the way back, but the surge was fierce and I ended up discovering black sand in unlikely places for a couple of days afterwards.

It’s not an earth-shaking hike, but enjoyable in its own way. There was a breeze on the coast as there usually is, some whales to be seen offshore, and my new hiking shoes performed admirably. That said, crossing behind the last beach en route to my truck, I felt a pricking in my foot and took off my shoe to find a kiawe thorn that had penetrated the sole. Not the fault of the shoe though, just an occupational hazard of hiking here.

For more information about the Kiholo to Mano Point hike, go to bigislandhikes.com/kiholo-to-mano-point.

The trail heads across a’a lava after the third beach.

The water surges into a small inlet, probably an old lava tube.

The sign at Mano Point which I think means ‘No Aquarium Fishing.’

Graham's Island

Life on the Big Island of Hawaii