Mud-Puddle Heaven
I live in Honolulu on the island of Oahu, and I’m always game for some rural action. When Endless Vacation asked me to write about Kauai, I decided to take a “dirty” detour: a trek with Kauai ATV Tours across long-dormant sugarcane plantation land. One look at the motorized vehicle in question, and I was in love. With a quick change at the gear shack, I was outfitted in rubber boots, green cargo pants and an old sweatshirt. Add to that goggles, helmet and gloves, and I was ready. “Pick your ride,” our guide shouted, “and I’ll show you how to make mud!” (He slyly suggested that we all do a rain dance for better puddles.) The idea of mud in my eye, however, was less than inviting. Remembering an Alaskan rule, “Always hug the lead dog,” I dove for the ATV behind the leader. The sights, for me, were amazing: I saw an old mill tunnel, as well as the settings for Hook, Jurassic Park and a dozen other films. The nine drivers behind me mostly saw my mud.

Let There Be Light
According to Annie, “The sun will come out tomorrow.” On Kauai, I met an islander who teaches folks how to make sure it comes out that very day. Kupuna (meaning, “elder”) Sylvia Akana regularly gathers a group in the lobby of the Aloha Beach Hotel for a sunrise ceremony. (The ritual is free and offered at least once a week; you don’t have to be a guest at the hotel to participate. Call 808-823-1632 to book a spot.) In the manner of the ancients, she encouraged us to take a cleansing pre-dawn dip in the ocean, explaining that it would make us pono, or “right with the day.” As it was winter, and the waves were chilly, I opted for a sprinkle of ocean water on my brow. Then, after only one quick run-through of the ceremony, Kupuna Akana had the entire group chanting “E Ala E,” a Hawaiian plea for the sun to rise. It did.

I stayed on to weave a lauhala-leaf fan, play a bamboo nose flute and be bested, twice, by a nine-year-old who had also just learned the ancient konane stone board game. Luckily, I was able to soothe my wounded ego in the warm Kauai sunshine that we’d beckoned.

Is That You, Toulouse?
While exploring the island’s family adventures, I turned off Rte. 50 at a sign that read, “The Biggest Little Town on Kauai.” There I was at the east end of the town of Hanapepe, which looks like a 1920s movie set. It turns out that Hanapepe is on the National Register of Historic Places and is often used as the backdrop for period films. Wandering from gallery to artist’s studio, I had a distinct feeling of deja vu. The Historic Hanapepe Walking Tour map clarified: The setting for Disney’s Lilo & Stitch animated films was based on Hanapepe. I was enchanted by a gallery called Banana Patch, whose owner, artist Joanna Carolan, restored the building and much of the town. Her gallery is filled with her work, and she also writes and illustrates children’s books. Carolan directed me toward a suspension bridge that hangs over the Hanapepe River. There, on the bank, balanced between a rock and a coconut palm, a beret-clad plein-air painter was feverishly wielding a palette knife toward a tipping easel and repeating, “Gotta get the light.” When he saw me watching, he called out, “My gallery, up the street!”