|
|
|
Cool is a matter of attitude
as much as climate in
Maui's Upcountry region of
cowboys, artists, and country inns.
|
by
Rita Ariyoshi
All roads lead
upward to the House of the Sun. As if it were an enormous, powerful
temple and we its mesmerized devotees, we beam up in our rental
cars from the sun-besotted shores of Maui to the lei of clouds that
lies upon the rolling green flanks of Haleakala, largest dormant
volcano on earth.
|
 |
|
The
moonscape of Haleakala's volcanic crater contrasts with
the lushness thriving farther down the mountain's slope.
|
|
Midway up the
10,023-foot mountain, in a fertile belt known as Upcountry, the
roads wind among vast ranches, farms, and tiny towns and districts
with names that fall like poetry from the tongue: Kula, Keokea,
Olinda, Makawao, Pukalani, Paia, Ulupalakua, Haiku.
Bursting from
the volcanic soil come surprises of roses, cabbages as big as minor
comets, onions as sweet as apples, and strawberries so juicy they
drizzle down your arm at the first bite. Prophetically, Upcountry
was once known as Nu Kaliponi, New California.
During the 1849
California Gold Rush, Upcountry farmers fed the forty-niners and
became more prosperous than most of the gold diggers. Today, the
area is practically a suburb of Marin County or Los Angeles. Scratch
a shopkeeper, waiter, innkeeper, or artist and underneath you'll
find a California transplant. The older ones came during the hippie
era, and the younger ones got off the last jet.
Nowhere is the
character change more evident than in Makawao. Until the 1970s,
it was a cowboy town, affectionately called "Macho-wow." It had
a gun and ammo depot, feed stores, and hitching posts along the
main street.
On Saturday
night the paniolo, the Hawaiian cowboys, came to drink, dance,
play the ukulele, and sing the praises of the land. Now? It's likeMaka-wowie.
The old wooden storefronts have morphed into art galleries, boutiques,
and restaurants, most of them very good.
I stopped in
at the Dragon's Den and, while sipping an immune support tea, poked
around among the pendulums, crystals, and jars of kava, unicorn
root, and herbal remedies. I picked up a brochure on ear coning,
a practice dear to the ancient Egyptians and Mayans, for cleaning
the ears and aura: "It works for people stuck in untenable situations
and helps us to gain control of our personal space so nothing can
penetrate or escape without our permission."
Not everything
here is so hip and profound. You can still get the world's creamiest
Long Johns (elongated custard doughnuts) at rickety old Komoda Bakery,
even though the store is now between a Tibetan jewelry shop and
Altitude, a new boutique that is owned by a Frenchwoman who continually
plays Parisian golden oldies on her stereo and hopes for the best.
As it has always
done, Kitada's little restaurant serves great steaming bowls of
saimin, Hawaii's ubiquitous noodle soup. But don't expect to find
any of those newfangled coffee drinks here. You can get your cappuccino
fix a few doors away at Duncan's or at half a dozen other totally
trendy cafés.
Makawao may
be this minute's hot spot, yet fields and forests edge right up
to its streets. The serenity that is in Upcountry is palpable, almost
marketable, it is so pervasive. This is the area's draw.
An international
community of artists lives among the hollyhocks and pine trees,
the eucalypti and redwoods. Curtis Wilson Cost, noted landscape
painter, has a gallery in the Kula Lodge. Mika McCann grows and
harvests materials for weaving her famous baskets. Artists gather
at Hui Noeau Visual Arts Center, where there is a full calendar
of classes, lectures, and workshops, plus a gift shop, all housed
on a gracious old estate on the edge of Makawao.
People from
Honolulu head to Upcountry just to bask in the cool air, to light
a fire in the evening's hearth, and to wear a sweater in the morning.
I wanted a few days of solitude and booked myself into the Olinda
Country Cottages and Inn at the dead end of Olinda Road, straight
up from Makawao as far as you can go before the trees close in.
I found, tucked
away in the woods, a mansion with the timeworn grace of the Riviera,
surrounded by a Beatrix Potter garden rife with foxgloves, Nile
lilies, and saucer-sized daisies filling the crisp air with sweet
fragrance. I knew immediately it was the kind of place where the
tea would be organic, the sugar brown, the apple juice unfiltered,
and there would be a Buddha on the shelf.
No one was home,
but there was a note on the door telling me to let myself in. My
room was up the back stairs. More roses and a cloud of lavender,
as a jacaranda tree was seeping into bloom. I settled down amid
chintz and determinedly old furniture that had been distressed and
painted. The room was certainly quiet.
I went for a
long walk in the woods, along the Waihou Trail, my footsteps cushioned
by pine needles. I was all alone. For dinner, I drove back down
to Makawao, enjoying the way the late light slashed through the
tall eucalypti.
I chose Polli's
Mexican restaurant. It was lit up with Christmas lights like a shrine
to the Virgin. Inside, margaritas in candy flavors were flowing
in big salty glasses. The place was packed and loud. They could
seat me only at the bar.
The woman next
to me said, "I don't know why I'm here. I spent the whole day at
a waterfall. There wasn't a sound." I thought of my room up in the
Olinda forest.
The following
day I signed up for a Jeep ride around Ulupalakua Ranch. It's a
new tour that covers more ground than a hike or horseback ride ever
could. We explored rolling hills, deep ravines, volcanic cinder
cones, and stands of koa trees, breezing past cows, elk, deer, and
partridge. The Wrangler bounced across lava flows where ohia lehuas
bloomed and the rocks were festooned in bright orange lichen.
The Jeep tour
ended at the ranch's Tedeschi Winery, which features tours and a
new tasting room. Its champagne, Maui Blanc de Noirs, was served
at the 1985 Reagan presidential inauguration. A little "story room"
next to the gift shop displays family photographs and ranch memorabilia.
Makena Stables stages horseback rides to the winery including a
picnic under the huge camphor tree.
When my husband,
Jim, flew in, we moved into the bunkhouse at neighboring Silver
Cloud Ranch, now a nice bed-and-breakfast. Silver Cloud was until
recently part of the huge Thompson Ranch. In order to pay his inheritance
tax, Jerry Thompson, youngest son among the 28 children of Charlie
Thompson, sold the ranch's most valuable portion, which included
his gracious old family home.
Jerry and his
wife, Toni, run Thompson's Trail Rides. "A lot of people get to
enjoy the ranch now," he said quietly. The paniolo tradition
is helped along by Jerry's sister Teresa, who organizes the parade
for the annual Fourth of July Makawao Rodeo, the biggest rodeo in
Hawaii. She said, "Our dad was the first grand marshal in the first
parade. He'd want me to do this."
The 35th annual
rodeo parade wound up bunting-draped Baldwin Avenue: horses and
riders; traditional pa'u units with their mounts garlanded
in leis; and the Ikua Purdy Ohana, descendants of the famous Hawaiian
paniolo honored in the National Cowboy Hall of Fame in Oklahoma
City.
Hawaiian cowboys
were riding and roping long before the American West was won. Consistent
winners in mainland rodeos, they wowed the crowds at the rodeo following
the parade. Dusty Miranda rode a bucking bronco bareback to the
limit. Jerry Thompson's daughter Andrea, looking so tiny in the
saddle, had fans cheering with her breakneck barrel race finish.
But it was the bulls, weighing nearly 2,000 malevolent pounds each,
that tested the men's mettle. We could almost smell the adrenaline
as cowboys prayed, stretched, and twisted before climbing into the
chutes and onto the backs of the brutes for the most terrifying
seconds of their lives. Makawao was once again Macho-wow.
Happily reassured,
we drove Upcountry's back roads. Driving these byways is pure joy,
especially in June when the jacaranda trees strew their lavender
blossoms with profligate abandon. The prized flower, however, is
the enormous protea, whose colossal blooms look like flowers of
the moon. The species, a native of South Africa, is about 300 million
years old. It was pioneered as a Maui crop by the University of
Hawaii Agricultural Substation in Kula, which offers a self-guided
walking tour of its interesting acreage.
Two exceptional
gardens grow in Upcountry. At Kula Botanical Garden, the walkways
meander among the great trees and exuberant tropical flowers. There's
a koi pond with lilies and a wall of black-eyed Susans.
Enchanting Floral
Garden is tidier, more compact, but crams in more than 1,500 species
of plants and flowers, all artistically grouped by color and arranged
among trellises, gazebos, and paths. Most bear name tags. In addition
to 30 varieties of protea, there are an orchid tree, sweet white
pineapples, jade vines, and orchids. Free samples of fruit are offered.
Looming over
this lush green belt is the cold summit of Haleakala, up above the
tree line. People drive there, as if on pilgrimage, to see the sunrise.
With hundreds of others, we shivered at the lip of the crater and
saw the sun sitting below the clouds, all soft and pink and radiant.
Watching it rise was like seeing time being born and the new day
tumbling from the hand of the Creator. It was the most soft and
benign of mornings.
The pilgrims
checked their watches. Most were bikers, signed up for the harrowing
bicycle ride from the summit to the sea. We took our time watching
the sun paint the hills and cinder cones in umber, amber, green,
and even lilac. We drove to Hosmer Grove by the park entrance and
walked in the sun-dappled woods listening to the trills, arias,
and police-whistle notes of native birds such as the iiwi,
apapane, and amakihi.
Afterward, we
rewarded ourselves with Belgian pancakes at the Kula Lodge, then
a massage and facial at Spa Luna down in funky Haiku town. This
is the Crate & Barrel of spas, located in an old warehouse. But
the treatments are first-rate and half the price of those at spaseven
cheaper if you request a student practitioner.
Owner Samana
Benedetti once wanted to be a doctor. Her approach is therapeutic
and holistic. "This is not a fluffy beauty thing," she said. She
employs European, Chinese, and Ayurvedic techniques, and can arrange
both tarot and palm readings.
Our other reward
was dinner at Haliimaile General Store. In this tiny plantation
hamlet, owner-chef Bev Gannon serves Hawaii regional cuisine with
a finesse that has earned her rural restaurant an international
reputation (in announcing its annual dining awards last year, Hawaii
Magazine said, "One of the . . . sustained creative influences
on Honolulu regional cuisine (is) Bev Gannon, whose Haliimaile General
Store remains one of Maui's leading lights").
We started dinner
with fish cakes accompanied by a ginger cilantro sauce, progressed
to a fine Caesar salad, and enjoyed entrees of Hunan-style rack
of lamb (me) and a scallop stir-fry with unusual vegetables (Jim).
We shared a feather-light chocolate cake, baked by Bev's daughter
Teresa "Cheech" Gannon, a pastry chef who has a nearly fanatical
following.
Another of
the amusing pastimes here is checking out the town bulletin boards.
These are actual notices: "Male involved in childhood grief therapy
desires to be held by woman (grounded and some awareness of holding
compassionate space). I'm serious and safe."
"Perfect for
Mother's Day: certificate for Qi and Five Element Balancing."
"Learn to create
small flower arrangement, then commune with the flowers."
There were phone
numbers for colon hydrotherapy, a course in sexual health, swing
dance classes, and a cleaning lady who cleans with aloha.
Some people
seek enlightenment along more traditional lines. The 1894 Holy Ghost
Octagonal Church in Kula is like a little Fabergé egg. Inside are
an ornate altar and stations of the cross that are unusually fine
examples of 19th-century ecclesiastical art.
The church is
on the national and state registers of historical places. When it
was diagnosed with termite damage, parish volunteers raised $1.5
million by baking Portuguese sweet bread. With the debt paid off,
Charles Lopes, who mixed the batter, said, "Next we're going to
restore the old churches at Ulupalakua and Keokea."
On the feast
of the Holy Ghost, parishioners host a luau. It's their way of saying
thanks for their many blessingsmost of all for living Upcountry
amid peace, plenty, and beauty.
If
you're going . . .
Information:
Maui Visitors Bureau, P. O. Box 580, Wailuku, Maui, HI 96793; phone
(808) 244-3530. Web site: www.visitmaui.com. Ask a AAA travel agent
about Hawaii packages.
Rita Ariyoshi
lives in Honolulu and has written several books on the islands.
For VIA, she has written on Molokai, Antarctica, and Jerusalem.
|