Hawaiian Dreams

Part Three of Three

I could cancel the trip altogether and let down a very dear friend who had never been to Hawaii, or I could take matters into my own hands.

Two months before my scheduled departure, I decided to use my savings to purchase airline tickets, and I put the hotel reservations on my credit card. Yes, I’d have to make payments on this trip of a lifetime, but it would be worth it. I would make it worth it.




I extended the trip by three days and bought tickets for an island hopper. We’d visit BOTH temples and the Polynesian Cultural Center, too. We would have a ball!


Five weeks before we were to leave, I finally met Mr. Right. Yes, it’s true. Hard to fathom, but factual. This development nearly sent my parents into cardiac arrest. They were quite sure they were stuck in a dream because no way was this ever going to happen in real life. Their beloved old maid wasn’t going to be a spinster after all.

The Lord likely knew exactly what He was doing when He made me scrounge for a female traveling companion. Novels and blockbuster movies have been written and filmed detailing the results of man plus woman plus beautiful tropical island. Yet still, leaving the love of my life behind for an entire week seemed like torture!


A week before departure, I took my final training ride. If I could successfully ride from my metro apartment to the top of the nation’s highest paved road, I would be able to do Mauna Kea. At home, I would have only 8,000 feet of elevation gain, but the mileage would be much further. And the weather would be much hotter. Mauna Kea doesn't have a brown cloud.


I successfully climbed more than 30 miles and made it to 10,000 feet, but I couldn’t go another inch. My bad knee stopped me cold. Actually, I was sweating by the bucket and not chilled at all. If I pushed any harder, maybe I could be the first to climb Mauna Kea in a wheelchair.

The next day, I cancelled my bike rental. I kept the moonlight tour because I thought it would be joyful.


It wasn’t. I mean, it was a great trip. Not just great, but fantastic. I loved hearing the history of the area and all about the native culture. I hiked atop a cinder cone and could see the summits of both Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, as well as the ocean. The full moon rose in the shadow of Hawaii’s tallest mountain as the sun set. I hiked to the true summit of Mauna Kea. After dusk, I viewed planets and solar systems not visible to the naked eye via multiple telescopes set up especially for tour guests.






During the van ride the entire tour, all I could think of was taking a mountain bike up that long and winding dirt road. Looking back now, I'm not sure I would have been able to ride to the top, due to volcanic fumes I didn't realize I had inhaled during my brief hikes until the next day. Pretty nasty stuff!!!


The botanic gardens, fabric shops, temples and flowers everywhere somewhat made up for the disappointment. But every time I saw a bike, oh, how I wished I had at least tried.






That is, until I got back home. That’s when Mr. Right suggested a repeat trip might be the perfect honeymoon. Would I be willing to go through this again? Would I be willing to get married???


We haven't been to Hawaii. Yet. Our day will come. I promise.

Most couples romantically fantasize about beaches, shopping, diving and sightseeing in Hawaii. Not us. No. Not even Mauna Kea would be enough to hold our interest now that we’ve pedaled up the highest paved road in North America together and halfway across Colorado multiple time to boot. We want to ride around the entire Big Island. On our own bikes, not rentals.


Oh, and now he wants to ride all the way around the other islands, too. Plus, he's seen films of mountain biking in Hawaii. He gets as excited about single track as I do about flowers and photography.

I wonder what fishbowl I can drop a couple more tickets into to win yet another trip of a lifetime? Naaa. We’d probably end up having to pay for the trip ourselves.

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