A while ago, a contributor to Wikipedia asked me to release a photo of a plant I took at the National Tropical Botanical Garden in Lawai. In an post about visiting there after hours, I posted a picture of a night-blooming cereus, which it turns out is somewhat rare, both the particular species of that plant and picutres of them. I learned that it’s actual name is Hylocereus monacanthus.
In the email exchange, I also got some more information about the species:
Hylocereus monacanthus (H. lemairei) is quite easy to recognize by the more or less pink flowers, bifid stigma lobes and relatively small scales on the floral tube. the other species commonsly gron in hawaii is H. undatus, with no pink, entire stigma lobes and large scales. It also have the areoles (where the spines are) on the lowest point of the margin. H. monacanthus has the areoles on the highest point.
But for some reason or another, the Wikipedia article for Hylocereus monacanthus wasn’t written, and image hasn’t even been uploaded to Wikimedia Commons yet (here’s the link). However, there is a lot of info and pictures of other Hylocereus and other genera of nightblooming cereus.
Sorry for the messy looking blog right now and the lack of content, I’m going through a blog upgrade.
There have been some vulnerabilities in the WordPress blog software I use, so I had to do an upgrade to the latest version. Of course, that led to a lot of formatting issues, as you can probably see. I’m not quite sure why the articles I wrote before are messed up now, it should all just be HTML. All the content is still there, I just need to go back and reformat every post, which may take a little time. I also need to redo the colors and decorations, which may not happen right away either.
But in the process of going through every post and reformatting it, I’m going to remove all the high-res images from the blog. They were taking up a lot of space on my hosting provider, and I’m not sure anyone clicked on them. I stopped posting them a while ago, and no one mentioned it—so I’ll remove the old ones. For me, it is just simpler to post a blog with the small image that do not link to big ones.
One exception will be the maps, those just loose too much detail in the small format. I’ll put a border and a link whenever a map is clickable.
If you would like a large, high-res version of any picture, please email me with a reason, and I’m usually happy to share them.
I’ve been meaning to post this image from the headwall of the Wailua gorge, also known as the Blue Hole. This photo is not a montage or faked in any way, just taken with a 15mm fisheye lens.
As you can see, it’s not usually blue, and only if you carry a fisheye lens does it look like a hole. Did I mention that I don’t like the name “Blue Hole?” It just seems so corny and obviously contrived. But I recently heard that it was so huge, you couldn’t capture it in one image, so I wanted to put that myth to rest.
Source: Paul J. Neiman
On this topic, I just received a very interesting comment on my post about the Wailua Headwaters hike. Essentially, the comment says that increased exposure of this route in the Ultimate Guide and on this blog specifically has led to more hikers, caused side trails to be worn in the wrong directions, and allegedly prompted unhappy local hikers to remove the flagging that did exist.
This marks a turning point of sorts for this blog, one I knew would happen sooner or later, and one that I’ve been dreading somewhat. It’s the point at which it seems like the information I share has a negative impact on the Kaua’i I love.
It’s all fine and dandy to post pictures of rainbows and waterfalls for people to enjoy from afar, but then people see a beautiful place on this blog and want to go there—it’s called tourism and it’s Kaua’i’s largest industry. And it’s not just visitors, there are a fair number of residents who want to go exploring too—mainland transplants like myself who might be considered long term visitors. So they start asking around, then they start tromping around, and before you know it, it isn’t the way it was before. Except here it’s not the Hanalei full of illegal vacation rentals, or the Kapa’a strip malls full of mainland chain stores, it’s the wilderness areas I care about full of people and their tracks.
As to what effect can be directly attributed to this blog, I’m probably exaggerating. Especially when the Ultimate Guide is also involved, and it has a bad reputation for transforming places it mentions. After all, that’s where everyone learns about the Blue Hole, even myself way back when. But the commenter says the hikers mentioned to this blog, and so I can’t say I didn’t contribute.
I have many conflicting thoughts on this matter:
Foremost in many people’s minds is the hypocrisy of hikers such as myself. We want to go to the remote places, we want to boast about it a bit, and then we don’t want others to go because it won’t be wild or remote anymore. I do admit that I wanted to blog about those places for the novelty factor. After all, any tourist can go on the established trails and flickr is full of trail photos from all over Kaua’i. But I would genuinely love for people to discover the beautiful places I’ve seen, if they have the ability to go.
But I suppose I’m also blind to the sheer numbers. I might go twice in a year to the same wilderness area, and even if I do some route-finding and trample a little bit, it’ll hardly be noticed. But even if 5% of Kaua’i’s one million annual visitors go hiking, and 1% of those try to go to the Wailua headwaters, that’s 500 people more than before. More significantly, with a group of hikers almost every day, the vegetation probably can’t recover and erosion will begin.
I have no real way of guessing who puts up the trail blazers in the first place. Hunters or local hikers could be marking their routes, or visitors wishing not to get lost could be doing it too. Personally, I’ve never put up or taken down a trail blazer. So, why did someone take down the flagging? To keep people from going? It seems too late for that, but I suppose if more people fail, and word gets out that it’s extremely difficult again, that might happen. Of course, it just takes one person to decide they don’t want the flagging, at least until someone decides to put it back.
With trailblazers marking the most direct route away from dangers, I think the damage to the vegetation would be minimized and hikers would be the most safe. Then again, more people on the same track will cause more serious erosion in one place. I do know that some places would turn into mud-bogs, which is annoying for the hikers but also becomes a permanant scar on the land.
And what do the locals really think? Significantly, I believe all the guidebooks and blogs are written by people who weren’t raised on Kaua’i. How would my perception of backcountry information be different if I had been raised on Kaua’i as opposed to having moved there as an adult? Exploring the backcountry is not an outsider thing, local hunters and explorers have certainly been all over. But it seems to be a mainland thing to want to share it all with the world. I’m not profiting from sharing this information, except perhaps with some fleeting internet recognition, but the Ultimate Guidebook writers certainly are. Would a local try to profit from it?
I like to think I have been careful with access information on this blog. In anticipation of this turning point, I have tried to give hints but not directions. People who read about an adventure here have to take the initiative into the unknown themselves. I like to think that this provides the information that experienced hikers need to go, and not enough for others to get started. But perhaps it just leads the foolish astray. In the end, it’s just a matter of degree.
In my defense, I always include a warning about the dangers in red at the beginning of my adventure posts. And in the case of the Wailua headwaters post, I explicitly mention at the end that the information I give will not help you find the actual route. Half-jokingly, I called it the “fine print,” but now I realize I should make that information just as visible—the post has now been updated. Will this stop people? I suppose not all who should be stopped, but I hope those that do go will be better prepared.
I certainly dread the next turning point where a hiker on this route is injured or needs to be rescued, or both. I suppose it will happen whether I write about the route or not, but I sure hope it can be avoided.
Ultimately, I think it would be good for Kaua’i if some more of the backcountry were opened up. Certain visitors want this experience, as do residents that are like me. If Kaua’i can provide it and benefit from the tourism, isn’t that good for everyone? Would it ruffle the feathers of the local hunters? Probably. Would it really impact them? I’m not so sure.
The problem is how to open it up safely for people and the environment. As I’ve mentioned, areas like this are fragile, and even a well-established trail leads to erosion. Can the erosion be controlled, can the trail be improved with logs, will it then become less of an adventure? I think the answer is yes to all three, but having more trails spreads out the impact.
But won’t there will be a little less wilderness then, and still there will be people who want to hike to the remaining untrampled places in search of “true” wilderness. The backcountry of Kaua’i is certainly finite, and so I have trouble balancing out this resource against those who enjoy it and hopefully care for it. It can be seen as self-serving, but I like to think that hiking and, by extension, eco-tourism are worthwhile persuits.
But what I’m becoming aware of is that I, as a hiker, wish there were more and better maintained trails. Yes, there is the need for adventure, but getting away from civilization even on a good trail can feel like an adventure too. This is exactly the case of the Kalalau trail. Places like Waimea Canyon could provide great backcountry adventures, and the trails are there already, but they’re overgrown. I now see that I need to write about places like that and send the adventurers on the overgrown trails. Hopefully, the result of that impact will be some worn tracks on renewed trails.
Certainly a huge topic in the end. Readers, do you have any perspectives to add, any insight to share?
Update, one day later: I was thinking about this post all day, maybe I’m being too hard on myself; maybe I’m overestimating my readership. But this evening I just heard about another blog reader who read about a remote place here and decided to go. My friend on Kaua’i who had paddled with me to Kipu Kai just went back again yesterday. While there, he met a visitor from Minnesota who had seen the original blog post and decided to go himself!
The time has come to announce the winner of my contest from several weeks ago. The goal was to guess the significance of the phrase AINA LAA, which I liked so much I put it on my California license plates:
First the answer. More properly written ‘Aina la‘a, the words translate straightforwardly to “sacred land.” Obviously, I cherish Kaua‘i, and as a hiker who loves to roam the mountains and valleys, I have a deep connection to the land. But like I said, there’s a deeper meaning, and there were some clues in the post to find it.
Significantly, there was a progression of thought in the various plates I showed, jumping from Kalalau to ‘Aina La‘a, so the two are linked. You’ll notice I chose the picture of Yosemite, another beautiful and characteristic valley in California. And if you go full circle to my first idea about a song that reminds me of Kaua‘i, you would be on the right path if you tried to think of songs about Kalalau.
If you’re googling, the first to come up is “O Kalalau” by the Makaha Sons of Ni‘ihau (including Bruddah Iz), so that’s a good candidate. Problem is, that’s not the song I’m thinking of—actually, I didn’t know about the song until I wrote this post. I can’t find the lyrics to that song, but in searching for them, you might come across another song that includes the line: O Kalalau, he ‘?ina la‘a.
It’s the song “Koke‘e” by Dennis Kamakahi, and appropriately enough, it sings of beautiful places on Kaua’i and expresses the hope of returning to Kaua‘i, “nevermore to say goodbye.” Bingo! Since this beautiful song is not easy to find online, I’m going to do my part and reproduce the lyrics and link to all the renditions I can find. Maybe when people see the license plate and google it, they’ll find this post.
First the lyrics from huapala.org, a website of “Hawaiian music and hula archives presented for perpetuation of the Hawaiian culture:”
Upu a‘e, he mana‘o
I ka wekiu o Koke‘e
I ka nani, o ka ‘aina
O ka noe po‘ai‘ai
Hui:
‘O Kalalau, he ‘aina la‘a
I ka ua li‘i li‘i
‘O Waimea, ku‘u lei aloha
Never more to say goodbye
Ho‘i mai ana i kahikina
I ka la welawela
I ke kai hawanawana
I Po‘ipu ma Koloa
Mele au, no ka beauty
I ka uka, ‘iu‘iu
I Koke’e ua ‘ike au
I ka noe po‘ai‘ai
A thought recurs
To the summit of Koke‘e
In the beauty of the land
Of the encircling rain
Chorus:
Kalalau is a sacred land
In the drizzling rain
Waimea is my beloved wreath
Never more to say goodbye
Returning to the east
In the doubly hot sun
To the whispering sea
At Po‘ipu in Koloa
I sing for the beauty
In the lofty uplands
At Koke‘e I saw
The encircling mist
Here are the two best renditions I found on the internet. This is Papalua, a Hawaiian duo in New York City, but they don’t seem to be playing together much anymore:
AND THE WINNER IS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Bill Eisenhauer!
He did not find the answer I was looking for, but he was the first to answer, got the translation right, and gave a very plausible explanation that I liked almost as well. I’ll be contacting you for your mailing address and sending you some Kaua’i chocolate that I brought back from my trip—I don’t think you can mail order it yet.
Congratulations to Bill, and thanks to all who left comments.
I remember when I was a tourist on Kaua’i, I was a bit concerned about these big signs posted on both highways into Lihue. I’d never heard of a banana virus before, and quarantines are usually serious affairs.
Then after driving past them all the time, you forget about them and don’t even notice them. After one trip back to the mainland, they again stood out for me and I took the picture above, southbound on Hwy. 56, as you approach Hanamaulu. That’s Ha’upu Mountain in the background, several miles away on the other side of town.
But what is the banana virus? It really is a virus that infects banana plants and keeps them from producing fruit. It is spread by aphids that feed on an infected plant and then infect any other banana plant they feed on. It is commonly called the banana bunchy-top virus because it causes all the leaves to grow stunted together at the top of the stalk, instead of spreading out palm-like. Here are two fact-sheets with much more detail about the virus, a PDF from the College of Tropical Agriculture and Human Resources at the University of Hawai’i, and another PDF from the International Network for the Improvement of Banana and Plantain.
Aphids don’t fly very far, so it spreads mostly by people moving infected plants, which is the reason for the signs. After escaping the virus for a long time, it showed up on Kaua’i in 1997. I don’t know if the quarantine is meant to protect the local banana producers, keep the virus from spreading from one part of the island to another, or just to slow it down. Sadly, I’ve seen banana plants in the back of a pickup truck drive right past the sign—like I said, the locals probably weren’t even aware of it anymore. And I doubt anyone enforces the quarantine.
I do know the virus is all over the Wailua Homesteads area, inland of the Sleeping Giant. When I lived there, our banans were infected, and a friend who lives there says his area is infested. Normally bananas grow by themselves with little care, but that leads to people forgetting to inspect their banana patch, and then it becomes a reservoir for the virus. When you notice the disease, you have to chop down the plant, dig up the roots, and take it all to the dump in black plastic bags. And you probably have to do this for all the plants around it too, when they start to show the disease.
After I planted the bananas at our second house, I was careful to spray for aphids every month and trim off the old drooping leaves that tend to attract the aphids, and this really seemed to keep the plants healthy.
