Maui No Ka Oi

Ah Maui. Swaying palm trees, fresh ocean breezes, the scent of plumeria wafting through the airport. My nervous system slows down a few notches at the very idea of Maui.

Janis and I have had these plans since August 2006! This is Janis’ first trip here whereas I lost count at 12. My good college friends John and Susan Guard own The Pet Shop in the Maui Mall and have played host to many of my trips here. In fact they met me at the airport and we lunched and then saw Miss Potter at the Cultural Center to pass the time waiting for Janis’ plane to arrive.

So for 5 days I actually got to play tour guide! We ventured to the south end of Maui and visited Makena Beach and Kihei, both of which have changed and grown. No trip to Maui is complete without the drive to Hana. We had perfect weather, oogled at all the breathtaking summits, stopped every chance we could for photos and snacked at Hana Beach Park. The Seven Sacred Pools (Ohe’o Gulch) was a blissful site with one waterfall pouring into another all the way to the ocean.

Our adventure to Haleakala Crater was equally fulfilling. The jacaranda trees were in full bloom on the drive up the mountain, their purple color so contrasting to the green fields surrounding them. The summit of Haleakala resembles the moon no doubt and it takes my breath away – and not only because we are 10,000 feet above sea level!

We met my dear old friends for lunch in Kula not far from their beautiful home. It was a blast to catch up and relive some of our funny past experiences too.

I took a stroll along the hotel complex beach path one morning while Janis was off exploring with her newfound plane friend from the East Coast. Here is the story that came forward from the experience.

I paused at the planter as the man in the wheelchair prepared for his snorkeling outing. He pulled himself out of the chair, legs limp, thin yet not quite lifeless. He grabbed the hand pads that would later serve as flippers of sorts.
I watched as he turned away from the ocean, readying his body to drag,

rest,

drag,

rest,

drag,

rest,

drag

regroup all the way to the water’s edge.

I sat staring in what I hope was a non-obtrusive manner, tears flowing down my cheeks. Awe, gratitude for health and strength in my limbs and inspired by his guts.

I yearned to sit with him surfside, questions not too nosy but shoot, I just wanted to know: How did this happen to you? What is that huge scar on your back from some well-meaning doctor with knife in hand determined to mend that broken spine? Were you sad, pissed off or just plain flabbergasted? What changed that transformed a self-pitying what’s-the-use kind of day into a snorkeling adventure? Instead I probably would have started with the usual tourist-speak:Where are you from, how long are you here for, have you tried the Hula Grill yet?

Would I be as determined as he if my legs were rendered motionless? I hoped I’d determine and persevere my way to the ocean too, under similar circumstances. So focused and strong with intention that my participation in the Ironman Triathlon might even be cause for celebration one day.

Thank you sir. As your lone chair sits under the shady macadamia nut tree, the sandy trail evident and is perfectly memorialized. You may never know how your courage touched this marathoner. The surrender of a lifetime that even a maxed out Visa card couldn’t fix. I am blessed and numbly open with thankful awe.