A Bite Off Eden (cont)

I went to explore the "orange grove." Apparantly it was the main trail, just continuing on beyond the river and up the canyon side. Two days earlier I ha dthought the river was the end of the road, now, rivers were just a passing fad, one that was always there and never got old. Did i mention I was in paradise? The air was pungent, dressed in the sweet stench of ripe guavas, bright orange peels and baby mangoes. Across the river the mosquitoes were in control. Forget about standing still. They'd swarm. True carnivores stumbling across human flesh for the first time in ages. it drove them wild. Bug infested guavas lined the floor. Not many, but a few, exposed to the elements. Specifics have long been committed to memory but the trail continued on, through taro plantations and gardens of fruit. Did I say Eden? yes. And I'll say it agin. Eden. There were staircases mad eof old roots coiling up the valley side crashing into rivers and creek beds gliding through the green. I kept on, past a cental outlook of the entire valley, wrapping around the jungle like a sushi roll. The air was hot. Hotter than before. This would also be the case for days to come. No sidetrail was left unexplored. I found a hippie stash, unoccupied or abandoned. It blened in nicely with the surroundings. Waterfalls, creeks, citrus, green moss, green everything everywhere. One sidetrail led to a spot where a goat's skull had been staked to a stick. Sacred Land. Ward off the invaders. I payed my respects to the goat, let him know I was there merely to observe, not meddle in his affairs. Nevertheless it felt as though I was the one being observed. Kind of creepy but spiritual nonetheless. A completely different array of forces than I was normally accustomed to, all acting in balance. Vulnerability was still therebut it was quickly oversought with a little bit of care. There was a sacred spot of green grass resting againstthe side of a rock ledge. I wanted to smoke but the lighter had gotten wet at the Sacred Pools. There were tns of pools here too. Some bigger. Maybe the ones earlier were not in fact the long sought after big pools after al. Maybe there was more. I continue don to the other side trails. One required a pool crossing. This was the biggest pool yet, like an olympic jacuzzi. There was another hippie stash on the other side. perhaps the Library. taro plantations everywhere. the ancients had it all. Fertile, sacred ground. Everlasting, always perpetual lusty lush. After even more sidetrails I got back on the main one. What a shape shifting chamelic mother fucker. it would disappear under leaves, behind roots, across rivers. You could hear water falling everywhere. It dripped down from the valley above. Not rain, but rivers and creeks and streams and the combinations of all at once. I remember crossing a river and finding a trail on the other side that went through mangled trees that grew like the vines on the gate to Hell. The surroundings got even greener, lusher, denser, beauty fuller, and any other word I've used 10,000 times to describe the same thing. The trail picked up, went higher, paralleled a river with bright green waterrfalls, climbed higher and beyond, nt jacuzzis, but pools, deep deep pools. I kept my shorts on for this one. No need for absolute exposure here. I wasn't even planning on jumping in but what the hell I had made it this far. And that's how there came to be an overanalytical maniac splashing around Kalalaus wet mouth. The trail going back was even more confusing. I lost it completely after bumping into some "locals" picking guavas with a long bamboo stick. Well, they weren't really locals. Locals have Hawaiian blood. These were foreigners, Haoles that had just taken up residence on the island. I was just a traveller. A traveller now lost chasing every little path that sprouted up on the valley floor. The trail dropped me off past the red cliffs between the 9 and 10 mile marker. I ha dgone waay off. I took the main path back to camp, blazed and heade dout towards the beach. On the way out I ran into Brett and brian and Erin, whom I hadjust met. Brett had a sack full of oranges. He was Santa. The sack was full, but not for long. For Brett is a humble, selfless man. He puts everyone (and especially complete strangers) ahead of himself. He stood at the trail opening handing out oranges to hikers who had just arrived. What a swell surprise after an 11 mile foot-cracking haul. And boy were there hikers. There were about 10 people already setting up near our area. Most would stay just for the ngiht and not even explore the sanctuary, but it was still more cluttered than the nights before where only you would hear yourself scream and laugh in dreams. My camp was still isolated up on top of the ridge near the falling rocks. Now, everyone had oranges. briceton, who was only 11 years old, hadhiked u pthe trail with his dad. He was looking to trade an orange for a goat burger. Unfortunately the rangers had raided Kalalau a week earlier and all the hippies were gone, along with any good chance of a goat burger. He was determined though. An adventurous young kid with a loud, almost blunt mouth. His mind picke dup on things quickly for complete assimilation. What a boy. he reminded me of Nicholas from San Diego. Brett, Erin, Briceton, Matt and company had met the night before. Matt came limping in. He had hurt his knee on the hike. Matt was from Seattle, or somewhere in Washington. About 25% of the people I had met were from somewhere in washington or had lived there a while. Matt had heard of the Hippies' Space Cake. I told him about Super Frank and his magic pizza with green flecks. Space Cake supposedly had mushrooms. I thought that was improbable because mushrooms break down in the baking process. it could be a topping, who knows. What a treat though. Matt thought Brett was a donkey for sawing and carrying a log to the caves where they were camped. The saw, what a tool. Tey planned to have a party at night and invited me to join. 151, Vodka, etc... Matt works as a subcontractor for acoustic sealings and had the cash to bring a satellite phone to keep in touch with his wife. She was worried about Briceton going. it was the only condition. Briceton's face lit up when I told him I had a small little camping hammock. He wanted to set it up in the cave. I went up and got it for him.