The Way It Used To Be

Back in 2008, when I first arrived on Oahu, everything took my breath away. Every beach, mountain, jungle, and waterfall was spectacular. Every sunny day was the greatest gift I could ever receive. Each sunset was a moment to be cherished.

By the time Year 4 of the Hawaii Adventure rolled around, all of these things had become commonplace. They were still pretty awesome, but they didn't give off that same striking vibrance that used to knock me off my feet. Plus, almost all of the people with whom I had originally come into the experience had moved on. Life was still good, but different. More and more Saturdays I would trade an outdoor excursion or a trip to a quiet beach for staying in and watching college football. The honeymoon was clearly over.

Until this past Sunday.

Back on Friday, I took a visiting Zag friend out to Pupukea for a little hike up into the mountains. Fighting a splitting headache from the night before, it took everything I had just to navigate the muddy trail without slipping. We finally got to an opening that looked out over a lush, untouched ravine leading down to the ocean.

"This was the way it used to be," he observed.

I joked that the only thing missing was a dinosaur or two, and then we made our way through the rest of the trail. We hiked back along a rarely used Army road that was narrow yet smoothly paved, complete with lines and guardrails.

I knew there was plenty of adventure to be had out there in those tropical hills, and two days later I found myself jogging back down that paved Army road into the unknown. I ran up and down steep hills, dropped in through the jungle, and climbed up bluffs with views that made the island look microscopic compared to the vast ocean in the distance. I couldn't stop running. I lost it out there in the best way possible.

I finally turned around after over an hour of running. My knees were sore and I felt weak, but I couldn't get over the remote beauty that I had gotten myself stuck in. Finally, with only a mile or two to go until I was back at my car, I stole a glance at a giant valley to my left. How I missed it on the way out I don't know. But as I trotted up the road, I looked over my left shoulder in awe at this magical world below me. The blue sky was the perfect backdrop for this vast, impenetrable rainforest of infinite colors. It took a minute to set in, and I didn't even stop to fully admire it, but I knew that this valley was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. I finally turned my head and focused on the road, but this snapshot stayed with me.

Back in my car, driving away from the trail, I looked over the snapshot of that valley in my mind. It brought along with it other images- like the first time I jumped off the rock at Waimea, diving through the blue room at Shark's Cove, watching whales breach in the distance during the boldest sunset, seeing 30 foot waves pound the North Shore, and sitting on Kalalau Beach in Kauai with my roommates after a full day of hiking.

This was way it used to be, I thought.

Just then I reached the steep hill leading back down to Kam Highway. I peered down at the miraculous seven miles of white sand and waves and a bright blue sky.

Then I realized something.

It still is.

Looking Back

Five years later, it still feels like part of me is there. Looking out over a sunset in Liguria. Getting lost down some narrow side street in the heart of Firenze. Filing onto a bus for another adventure into the unknown.

I can't tell you how many times recently I've thought to myself, Exactly five years ago I was in... I thought it might be a good idea, both for myself and my friends who experienced this journey with me, to repost some of the originals from my time abroad. This way, I'm not the only person reliving these moments in my mind and in my dreams. I'll begin each with a tiny bit of commentary, and then I encourage anyone who reads them to comment with additional memories or thoughts. Andiamo. Let's take a trip down memory lane together.

Remembering Cinque

We've all lost things we love. I haven't lost a whole lot of people very close to me, but for me the peace and closure of losing someone comes from believing that they are not gone forever but in a better place where we will someday meet again.

But what happens when a location, not a person, is lost?

This past Friday I woke up to an email from my dad saying CinqueTerre had been all but obliterated by flash floods. This was a place that was so special to me while I lived in Italy. I basically tried to get out there to camp any time I could. The views, the smells, the tastes, the sounds, and the adventure were irresistible. My heart sunk when I found out what had happened.

I also remembered that the day the flash floods hit was the five year anniversary of the day that John Thompson and I headed out there for a quick camping trip. On that day, we laid out on the beach in Monterosso in 80 degree weather and then headed up to the abandoned church on the mountain above to catch the sunset and fall asleep. Pretty heavy contrast there.

My hope is that the village will slowly heal from the flood and that not all of the magic has been washed away. When I return, hopefully someday soon, I want to be able to relive all the joy and adventure that this land has brought me. Perhaps all the fond memories I have will cover up all the scars that Mother Nature has left behind.

So here's to remembering the great times that CinqueTerre brought all of us.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 28, 2006

The Return to Cinqueterre

Maybe they call this an Indian summer, or maybe this is just how their autumns are. I'm not sure, but the weather is still spectacular. Another successful trip to Cinqueterre is in the books. This time it was a two man operation with myself and His Thompness. Everyone else backed out at the last minute. I was tempted to as well, but then I looked at the weather forcast, and it called for sun and temperatures in the mid 70's along the Ligurian Coast. Tourist season in Cinqueterre is basically over, so I saw an opportunity to see the area the way it used to be in ideal conditions.
We left pretty early Friday morning and arrived in Monterosso around 2. After this trip, I'm pretty confident in my TrenItalia capabilities. When we got there, we layed out on the beach and went swimming for a couple hours. There were quite a few people on the long, sandy beach, and it felt like mid-July instead of late October.

After our beach time, we bought some water and made the climb up to our campside on top of the mountain. We got there before sunset this time, and there were some people already there looking out at the life-changing view. We set up camp on the same roof of the monesary as last time, had a dinner of meat, salami (which i'm getting kind of tired of at this point), olive oil, pesto, and apples, and waited for the show. An Austrian couple who was on their way down asked for some water, I offered some of mine, and then talked with us for a while. As they left they took my water with them; either it's a cultural difference or they were just selfish. All I know is that I was really thirsty until the next morning. We chatted with another guy who was up there taking pictures who happened to be from Seattle. Small world. Then the sun set. It was a spectacular sight, difficult to describe. The afterglow was beautiful as well, and the clear sky gave way to excellent star gazing. We saw tons of shooting stars, and a warm breeze blew above our sleeping bags. It was hard to believe that November was only a few days away.

The next day, after a pretty poor sleep, we hit the trail bright and early. We bought some water on the way out and found the main trail to be almost completely empty. I don't think that many people get the chance to hike Cinqueterre with the trail to themselves. We made incredible time and made it to Vernazza sometime around 10 a.m. The sun was beginning to make its presence felt, and after some time in the town, we made our way to the next town. We sweated buckets after the steep climbs. Luckily my pack wasn't quite as heavy this time and I knew what I was in for. In no time at all we reached the small side trail that led down to the beach that Miller and I had wanted to visit the last time we did Cinqueterre. The trail was pretty narrow and steep, and there were times when I wondered if we'd be able to make it all the way down. My sleeping pad got a little scratched up after getting caught on so many thorns and branches. We finally made it down to level surface, made our way through an olive grove, and saw the beach up close for the first time.

As we walked down the steep stairs, we realized it was a nudist beach. It's an aspect of culture I've never been exposed to, but it was interesting nonetheless. We laid out in the sun, which was hotter than ever at this point, did some swimming, and rested. Minus the naked dudes walking back and forth right above me, it was paradise.
The climb back up was an excruciating sprint, but when we got back on the trail, the rest of the hike was pretty level. We spent some time in Corneglia and then cruised through the last two. We caught a train in Riomaggiore and made it back in time to catch the second half of the Notre Dame game on my computer. It was a full, fun-packed, adventurous, and relaxing weekend. It was everything I had expected and then some.