I had always wanted to go to Hilo. Somehow when you look at a map of Hawaii, the city of Hilo is always on the map, isolated from the rest of the islands.
Hilo is the 2nd largest city in Hawaii. It’s airport? The smallest airport I’ve been to while here. I can only guess that if I do go to Kauai, that its airport will be smaller still. Hilo International Airport is open air. Meaning you can feel the breeze while sitting at your terminal waiting for your flight. I found it unusual because Hilo is supposed to be a very rainy city.
What I have come to realize that the airports all remind me of Walt Disney World’s Tiki Room with their dark wood and Hawaiian motifs.
I got a 6AM flight to Hilo and was in my rental car at around 7:30 AM. The post office by the airport wasn’t open so I decided to head toward the nearest McDonald’s, which just so happened to be in a Walmart. The lady at the rental car place had asked me if I had eaten breakfast. “No,” I told her. “Well, there’s only one place that is open and that’s this pancake buffet.” I kinda gave her a funny look expecting more things to be open. She strugged and said “Welcome to Hilo.” What she meant to say was that the pancake buffet was the only “good” restaurant open.
I had always heard that Hawaiians were found of Spam, but I had no concrete evidence. Yet on the menu board at the McDonald’s – Spam and Eggs. I would have taken a picture of it if I had my camera.
On to Ka Lae, the southern most point of the United States. Here is the map of my route in case you’re keeping track.
Ka Lae is at the end of a one lane country road, much like my maternal grandparent’s farm near Sparta. At one point I wasn’t even sure I should be on the road as there were signs posted about it being government property yadda yadda yadda. But I forged ahead. I expected to see a marker, like the one in Key West, but there was no such one. “Is this the southernmost point?” I asked a fellow tourist couple. “We think so.” It was a bunch of rocky cliffs that looked like any other rocky cliffs on the island.
Onward to a black sand beach. Just like regular sand, only with black sand. A sea turtle was there too. Signs posted along the way said “Do not take sand.”
I’ll post more later on…

To answer the question, yes it is possible to fly into an island in the early morning, rent a car, see some sights, and then fly back that evening. This may not be the most economical way to see the island, but it does allow for you to experience many of the island in a short part of the day.
Flew to Maui yesterday (Monday October 27). I hadn’t ever tried flying into an island in the morning and departing same day in the evening. But everything worked out as best as could be expected. I got everything I needed to get done. This includes driving to the top of a volcano, and finding a specialized shop which sells reproductions of antique maps.
My first objective was to drive up Haleakala National Park to the summit. A long and windy road. Smiliar to Short Mountain, but paved. There is a patch of highway from Holland, KY, to Fountain Run, KY, which is very similar to this. But much longer. Along the way up the hill you see the environment change from tropical to temperate to evergreen to tundra. The summit is above the clouds and cold. I think it was the wind that really made it cold. I came prepared with a jacket.
On a side note the rental car company in Maui gave me one of these as they were out of the compact car I had requested. I didn’t complain but grew increasingly apprensive about manuvering this big boat in and around the miniature parking lots and streets of Maui.
After discovering what the surface of Mars really looked like (it just so happens to be at the top of Haleakala), I decided to drive to the westward side of the island to check out a deli I had read about. I know, fly all the way to Maui for a ham and cheese sandwich. But it has always been my style. Kinda like Elvis and him flying to Las Vegas or wherever for a peanut butter and banana sandwich. And after further searching I found the map store I had been looking for. Trust me, I could have spent thousands of dollars in there, but I held myself back and only bought 2 maps suitable for hanging.
After getting the map there wasn’t too much more I wanted to accomplish so headed back to Kahului where the airport is. Stopped by the Queen Kaahumanu Center which is the mall where locals shop. The locals have a funny way with the number 808 which just so happens to be the area code for Hawaii. Seems that natives are really proud of their 808 phone numbers, as I’m guessing that both the military and tourists are so transiet, that the 808s never really matter much to them. Then come the shirts with “808 All Day” printed on them. I’m not sure what this means. Kinda like me having “615 All Day” printed on a set of shirts. But apparently the locals indentify with their area code.
I’d love to write more, but my head has a date with the pillow. The Big Island will be addressed tomorrow.
Also here is a map of my route.

There’s a expression in Hawaii known as “Aloha time,” which basically means that 9AM church services could start at 9:05 or 9:10 depending on when everyone gets there. Worship was very laid back. Hawaiian shirts were applenty. I think I saw only one shirt and tie. Some wore shorts.
The Pearl Harbor church of Christ remains a transient church for those in the military. There’s always people coming and leaving. Most people don’t stay for more than 3 years, just enough time to get acquainted and then say goodbye. Folks were very friendly toward visitors and I really felt welcomed there. They give visitors all lei’s and announce the visitors by name at the beginning of service. Just a small thing that makes everyone feel welcomed.
Tomorrow my hosts will be working, so I will have to rent a car to see anything tomorrow. So why not rent a car on another island? I’m thinking Maui.

Jet lag hasn’t been too difficult. I pretty much made myself stay up until 9:30 PM (2:30 AM CST). Woke up at 3:30 AM Hawaiian time (8:30 AM CST). Still sorta tired, but that should wear off in a day or so.

Goodbye for now. I may write more later… Meanwhile here are more photos of the church.

In a little over 1 week I’ll be leaving for Hawaii. I’ll be staying with a some friends in Honolulu. As with any vacation, I often turn what should be a relaxing trip into a rush rush rush thing which causes worry and stress. What if I don’t see everything I want to see? What if I fly to another island and get stranded and have to spend the night there? You only live once, that’s what I keep telling myself. Relax and enjoy it.
Some of my biggest stressors right now is which other island(s) to visit and what to do once there. I’m being told that inter-island flights are kinda like a bus service. Car rentals are cheap. And yet part of me thinks that once I get flown to an nearby island, situated in a rental car and drive a few hours, it’ll be time to go home again, a wasted day.
Watch this space. I’m taking my laptop so I’ll be able to post pictures and other noteable points here. Not that it matters, but it always helps to keep family and friends in touch with what’s happening here or there.

On my way back from Fall Creek Falls, I took the long way around through Sparta and Smithville. Just outside of Sparta is the community of Gum Springs which my mom grew up in. I had stopped there a handful of times and decided to spend 20 minutes of my time driving by my grandparent’s old house.
I managed to get there based soley on memories. No road maps. No knowledge of street names. Merely remembering the route I would travel almost every other weekend during the early elementary years of my life. The look of the fence at the turn off from Route 70, the small store across the street from my mom’s elementary school, the church where my parents were married, and the narrow road going to my grandparents’ farm….
From 1977 to up until my grandfather died in 1985, my parents would pack my sister up in our 1977 Volkswagen Beetle (later a 1982 VW Rabbit) and go to the farm to see my grandparents. Now, about 25 years later, here I was in my own Beetle driving along country roads of my childhood. I guess at times, history repeats itself.
The farmhouse is rented out to a family I don’t know. I paused briefly as I drove by it. It didn’t have as big of a yard as I remember it. Of course everything seems bigger when you are young. The electric fence which held the cattle had been dismantled. The only cattle in sight was across the street where my great-grandmother’s house once stood. Outside my grandparent’s house, a young girl played. I didn’t dare to stay too long, making myself at risk for being an outsider near private property.
The church where my parents were married hasn’t changed much. My mom says that membership has dwindled, probably loosing many of their members to larger churches within the town of Sparta itself. Rural churches as a whole are dying out.
As I drove along I found myself jealous of those resident’s lifestyle of rural culture. Sometimes I want to live in rural areas thinking that the slower lifestyle would make me happier.

This weekend around 150 folks from church went camping at Fall Creek Falls. It’s a 10+ year tradition, something that I’ve been a part of for around 3 years. Seems to get bigger each year, with more and more families coming, and more and more people upgrading to campers.
I think our worship service Sunday morning at Fall Creek Falls was how God would have wanted worship. We traded our suits and ties for shorts and t-shirts. Our pews were folding lawn chairs. Our big screen was the clouds in the sky. Just a simple worship service in a wooded campground. I’m sure if you took away the pop-up campers, the Winnebagoes, and the lawn chairs, it would have looked very similar to how the early Christians would have worshipped.
Sunday at lunchtime it rained. Rather than sit in the tent all day, I decided to drive toward the park exit and found myself heading toward Pikeville. With 2 restaurants, one being a McDonald’s, I decided to try to find more variety in Crossville. Crossville is a wannabe Cookeville. No doubt both cities are rivals of sorts. In Crossville I found myself in one of the most run-down Long John Silver’s in the state. The furniture looked as though they came from a Goodwill swapmart. The floor behind the counter was dirty and in full view of the customers. They served Coca-cola, which is a rarity among the Yum! branded restaurants (sister restaurants being Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, and KFC). I began to think that the LJS was probably an independent (read non-corporate) owned entity, which hadn’t yet gotten the corporate memo to serve Pepsi and to clean up their dining room. I should have gone to the Wendy’s down the block.
Perhaps due to directional insufficiencies and shear laziness, I didn’t get to see the Falls. I drove around trying to find the lookout and Buzzard’s Roost Monday afternoon, but never did succeed. I gave up and drove toward Spencer.
I’ve always had a fascination toward Buzzard’s Roost after being introduced to it 9 years ago at a church camp at Fall Creek Falls. I had revisited it a handful of times, both physically and through photographs since then. There is a safe area, a deck built by the road, then just in front of the deck, is a rock outcrop. Merely taking too many steps in the wrong direction would mean falling a few hundred feet to the bottom of the valley.

I found out Wednesday that I am not as young as what I used to be. Remember the swings at Opryland? There is a similar ride at Holiday World, which surprisingly brought me down. Nope, it wasn’t the wooden roller coasters. Instead it was the swings. Now any ride which spins in circles has the chance to make me dizzy enough to take a break before riding the next ride.
When we were young we were unstoppable. You name the ride, we did it. Now when you hit middle age, you tend to stop and catch your breath.
Holiday World’s greatest attraction might be the free Pepsi flowing from the Oasis stations throughout the park. It was good at first, although the Sierra Mist might have had a bit too much syrup. I ended up leaving the park feeling the same way which I left the World of Coke in Atlanta – somewhat overwhelmed to the point of being sick of carbonation.
Taking into consideration the limited amount of attractions in the theme park, my friends and I stayed in the water park much of the time. The Waterpark had some great attractions, plenty of watersides with varying degrees of lines. The longer sides had the longer lines.
Then there’s that uncomfortable feeling you get when you’re on your way home from a theme park in damp blue jeans. I guess I should have worn my swimsuit on that Grizzy clone.
This was the first day off I had taken in over a year. It felt good. My coworkers and managers have told me that I should take a day off. After all, all work and no play makes Jeff…dull. I guess I had trained myself to remain busy all the time and absolutely take no time for myself. I have trouble relaxing. At times I felt guilty having fun. Maybe this day off is helping me know that I can take time for myself. After all I feel like I deserve it.

I ran into one of my old coworkers. From that job I love to hate. He seemed all so friendly toward me. And I guess I was just very quiet back to him. It was alkward (and painful immediately afterwards). What he didn’t realize is that he betrayed me. On the day I decided to resign my position, I told him my plans first thing that morning. His immediate response was to tell our immediate supervisor. I wasn’t up for that. I knew my supervisor intemidated me. I was going to go just through HR.
So the next thing I know is that my “trusted” coworker told my boss I was leaving. Bootlicker. It was sorta the good cop/bad cop type of thing. My coworker wanted to protect himself, so that the boss-man wouldn’t fire him for knowing that I was leaving and not telling him.
So anyways it was painful remembering those sobering memories from my old job. Here I was having a extremely good time skiing and I let my old job and old memories creep up on me. Bummer. The only thing I could think of when I was there “let’s go tubing.”
I now know that honesty is not always the best policy. You have to withhold information if you want to get further in the world. You don’t need to tell everyone your plans. Keep the hand you were dealt with close to your heart.

It was a beautiful sunrise at the YMCA camp where we stayed at this weekend. There was about 2 inches of snow on the ground. The sun’s reflection on the lake near the campground was beautiful. Makes me remember how beautiful God can truly make things.
I discovered I still can ski. I guess it’s like riding a bicycle. You never forget. One thing I need to do is to get some good goggles for future trips. Skiing in falling snow is murder on the eyes.
Tubing was good too. I think the option of tubing is good for non-skiers. Makes for a better trip and not having any people sitting around bored in the lodge.
At the YMCA camp, we’d like to thank the mystery “Karl” who left his wi-fi network open and available to anyone with a laptop and wireless receiver. I was able to check my mail while at the camp. And play a game of Rook. Woot!
And you can (but shouldn’t be able to) get a buffet to go at KFC. That’s what this older gentlemen demanded while we were eating lunch today. Made for good lunchtime dinner theater. After some arguing on whether or not a buffet-to-go is an actual option, the manager said “We can refuse to serve you.” Meanwhile the man did get what he wanted when the other KFC worker gave in on him, if only just to get rid of him. So the man pointed out what he wanted on the buffet and the KFC worker bagged it up and charged him some obligatory charge.

States I’ve Visited:

I’m not counting stopovers in airports. I’ve been to New Orleans, O’Hare and Detroit. But only to their airports. Thanks for asking.
Also I drove through Illinois very briefly. Like one mile or 2 on my way to Missouri. But I’m not counting that. I think you can only count a visit when you stay over 3 hours outside of their airport.
Countries I’ve visited:

1% of the world. That’s ok, isn’t it?
Maybe I’ll create a travelogue about it sometime later.
I have this dream of going cross country to California and blogging about it along the way.