The plan would hold. We didn't get out exactly on time, but we were to our checkpoint on the north side of the island only about 15 minutes late for our self-imposed 8 a.m. preferred time of arrival.
Our 55-mile drive nearly due west along the north coast, then down around to the south, would take us through some of the most dramatic landscapes one could hope to see -- lush jungle, green grass, white hay-like grass, countless switchbacks above steep cliffs, sea for miles, dramatic wave sets and a tourist trap called the Garden of Eden (here we were told, "Don't pet the ducks" ... Who would ever have to be told not to pet ducks?) -- from the comfort of a convertible.
It's probably best to refer to the pictures here, which are fantastic (even the ones Patty took), and only sort of suggest how the conventionally narrow roads on the front half of the drive give way to comically narrow "roads" on the back half -- 37 miles through what is essentially a glorified bike path with a 20 m.p.h. speed limit.
In all, the nearly 100-mile drive took us almost all day, stopping along the way few times to eat (in Hana, where the wrap was a straight B and salad was about the same), take a ton of pictures, check out a few beaches, avoid oncoming traffic and to grade all the points of interest in "Maui Revealed." Patty also drew blood trying to climb a red lava rock to take a picture. Merely a flesh wound. But not her last.
Home and low on energy, we ate cereal for dinner. Monday at the Four Seasons, Tuesday at Fred's, Wednesday cereal at home. Maybe on Thursday we'll just have water.
Will never forget Koki Beach (and not just because that's where Patty cut up her leg in search of some way to capture the heaviest crashing waves we had seen to date) or Hana, or the muddy ducks, but the ride was less a string of towns, beaches, checkpoints or mileposts and more an experience remembered in its entirety.
Plan for Thursday?
Vacation.
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