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Two roads on Maui’s north shore provide truly spectacular coastal
scenery along with challenging driving experiences. The first is the
Hana Highway, one of Maui’s most famous tourist attractions. With its
600 twists and turns and 54 bridges, it meanders along the coast of East
Maui’s Haleakala volcano from Kahului to peaceful Hana on the east end
of the island. The other is the little-known Kahekili Highway that
crawls across the top of West Maui from Wailuku to Kapalua. Whoever
decided to call either road a “highway” is guilty of severe
misrepresentation. Though fully paved, both offer a full quota of blind
curves, one-lane bridges, and stretches so narrow that drivers of
oncoming cars must somehow decide who backs up to let the other proceed.
For most Maui tourists, the 210-kilometer round trip to Hana is an
all-day adventure. The Hana Highway (State Route 36) officially begins
in the middle of Kahului, Maui’s largest city. If you’re staying in
Kaanapali or Lahaina, it’s about a 50-kilometer drive to reach it. At
this point it’s an actual highway, and a rather nondescript one at that.
Things start to get interesting when your reach Paia (“Pa-ee-a,”
meaning noisy), the last place to fill your your car’s tank (and
your stomach) before Hana. You can often tell you’re approaching Paia
because traffic comes to a complete standstill. Yes, in the 21st century
even Paradise has traffic jams!
The first scenic stop after Paia is Kuau (“Koo-ow,”
meaning shank of a fishhook), a nice little “pocket beach” on a
small cove. Look for the “Mama’s Fish House” sign, announcing a very
expensive restaurant that overlooks the cove.
Less than a kilometer further is the overlook for Hookipa Beach
(“Hoe-oh-key-pa”). Like many north-facing beaches in Hawaii,
Hookipa gets “awesome” waves ideal for surfing. But this beach also gets
strong wind, which makes it a world-renowned mecca for competitive
windsurfers. Hookipa means Hospitality, but I haven’t been
able to find out how it got the name. The treacherous wind and waves
make the bay unsuitable for beginners, but some of them try it anyway
with predictable consequences. So maybe whoever named the bay really
meant to call it Hospital but got the translation wrong. If
you’re not a surfer, you can enjoy a picnic on the cliff. Or just enjoy
the view of the bay, the surf, the beach, and West Maui.
Past Hookipa, Route 36 becomes Route 360 and starts to narrow— in
Hawaii’s numbering scheme for state roads, smaller roads have more
digits. The scenery also starts to get more rugged as you near the
Keanae Peninsula, the geographical halfway point on the way to Hana.
Keanae (“Kay-on-eye,” meaning the mullet) is a worthwhile
detour off the Hana Highway. The peninsula is the remnant of an ancient
eruption of Haleakala, a leaf-shaped afterthought as the lava flowed
into the ocean and built East Maui. The peninsula is similarly a remnant of an older, quieter rural Hawaii.
There’s not much “there” there, just fields of taro (the traditional
Polynesian staple food), a coral stone church, some houses with horses,
palm trees, a park for picnicking (but bring your own table), and two
rugged shorelines with great views. It’s exactly what the Hana Highway
is about— it’s the journey rather than the destination. Keanae is
a great place to forget about itineraries and agendas.
One of the delights of the Hana Highway is discovering the numerous
waterfalls of various sizes that hurtle down Haleakala. Guidebooks are
available that meticulously map them, but you really don’t need a book.
You can spot a waterfall by the parked cars that accumulate around it.
The number of cars is proportional to the size of the waterfall, so a
spectacular cascade is likely to produce a correspondingly spectacular
traffic jam. Tourism was practically nonexistent on Maui when convict
laborers built the highway in 1927. Other than developing some of the
waterfalls as parks or waysides, the state doesn’t seem to have done
much since then to accommodate the flood of visitors. I suspect that’s
intentional. The traffic can be frustrating at times, but it needn’t
spoil things too much if you’re aware of it. And besides, you’re not in
a hurry.
Scenic overlooks along the Hana Highway offer great views of rural
villages and farms. Binoculars or telephoto lenses reveal details of a
green tapestry. This is the overlook above Wailua
(“Why-loo-ah,” meaning two waters), renowned for its taro
fields.
If you were hoping for a spectacular end to your journey, you’re likely to
be disappointed in Hana (“Ha-nah”). It has a rather nice
beach and bay, but nothing that can’t be seen in other more convenient
locations. It’s a low-key and rural place, with no nightlife, no
must-see sights, and few tourist amenities. Hana is about
hoonanea (“hoe-oh-na-nay-ah”)— passing time in ease
and pleasure. (Hoonanea is a word that really deserves a place in
English, alongside aloha.) That’s the way its residents prefer
it. Those residents include many native Hawaiians, along with wealthy
folks from the Mainland who have homes there.
Strangely enough, Hana means Work! After the arduous
drive, you might think the name refers to all the work involved in
getting there. But this laid-back place apparently got its name from a
myth. The goddess Luukia (“Loo-oo-kya”) taught the women of Hana how to
make tapa— the Polynesian cloth made from beaten tree
bark— in a nearby cave called Hana o Luukia, the work of
Luukia. Or maybe it refers to pau hana (“pow ha-na”),
a phrase commonly heard all over Hawaii on weekday afternoons: Work
is over and it’s time for fun!
As an infomercial huckster might say, “But wait... there’s more!”
That is, if you’re up for another 15 kilometers of “highway” even
narrower, twistier, and bumpier than what you enjoyed on your way to
Hana. In a bit over an hour, you’ll reach the waterfalls and pools of
Oheo Gulch (“Oh-hay-o”). It’s a section of Haleakala
National Park officially called Kipahulu (“Key-pa-who-loo,”
meaning depleted soil). If you’ve already visited the Haleakala
summit, the receipt you got there when you paid the entrance fee will
admit you to Kipahulu for no extra charge (and vice versa).
Guidebooks and advertisements often refer to Oheo Gulch as the “Seven
Sacred Pools.” Some 20th-century marketeer dreamed up that name to
enliven a long-forgotten promotion. There are actually something like 24
pools, depending on who’s counting them. Not one of them was ever
“sacred.” There are hiking trails (with hungry mosquitoes) along the
pools. You can also get a good view of the rugged coastline at the mouth
of the falls. When you’re done hiking, you’ll have to drive back the way
you came. The “highway” that continues west soon becomes a very rough
unpaved road that’s often impassable.
The Kahekili Highway (County Route 340) could be West Maui’s answer to
the Hana Highway. But unlike the Hana Highway, it’s a mystery to most
visitors. Because it wasn’t paved until the mid-1990s, many tourist maps
show it as a dirt road (if they show it at all). And some car rental
contracts still prohibit driving on it. They either haven’t bothered to
change the contracts, or else they don’t want people risking their cars
on such a challenging road. You might want to make this trip after
you’ve had some practice for it on the Hana Highway. The Kahekili
Highway is even narrower, steeper, and slower, with more blind curves
but fewer guardrails separating your car from a hundred-meter plunge
into a valley. It’s definitely a thrill ride, but it’s really quite safe
if you take it slowly and carefully. My lawyer insists that I admonish
you not to try it you’re tired or jet-lagged, if you’ve had any alcohol,
or if it’s raining.
In some ways the Kahekili Highway is better than the Hana Highway.
There’s a lot less traffic, at least for now. It offers views of West
Maui’s vibrantly green valleys that inspired the island’s former
nickname, “the Valley Isle.” The scenery isn’t jungle like East Maui;
some writers have noted its resemblance to Ireland. The road is named
for Kahekili (“Ka-hay-kee-lee,” meaning the thunder),
the last chief of Maui, who ruled before King Kamehameha I conquered all
the islands at the end of the 18th century.
Kahakuloa (“Ka-ha-koo-low-ah,” meaning the tall overseer)
is probably the highlight of a trip on the Kahekili Highway. If you’re
driving west from Wailuku, you’ll first approach Kahakuloa Head from
behind.
Also known as Puu Koae (“Poo-oo Ko-ah-ay,” meaning tropicbird
hill), it’s an eroded volcanic cinder cone 194 meters high.
The little village of Kahakuloa is one of the most isolated on Maui,
with the Kahekili Highway its only link to the outside world. Its most
prominent landmark (and view) is the red-roofed Kahakuloa Hawaiian
Congregational Church, perched photogenically in front of Puu Koae.
The section around Kahakuloa is the narrowest and most fearsome part of
the highway. It winds down sheer cliffs without as much as a guardrail.
But the road gets better as it descends and becomes the Honopiilani
(“Ho-no-pee-ee-la-nee”) Highway (Route 30) leading to the
Kaanapali and Lahaina resort areas. On the way are lookouts for several
scenic bays, including Honolua (“Hoe-no-loo-ah,” meaning two
harbors).
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