Pololu

It's the end of the road. Literally. Route 270 just ends. And for good reason. It's a 1000+ foot drop to the ocean blue. Nature drew the lines on this part of the map and there's no bridge or side road that can alter the path.

We stood contemplating the view. Oh what an amazing view. And squinting down the drop we noticed something. Small ant-like human figures scurrying down below. "I want to have an adventure down there mommy. Let's go!" And so we went (though not without a quick trip back to the farm for sturdier shoes and some water and snacks).

Walking sticks in hand and supplies on our back, we started down. My boy gripped my hand the whole descent, switching to the inside with each zig-zag switchback. Nervous but determined. Excited yet unsure. He carefully navigated each boulder and rock and drop off looking only at his feet.

Then the sea breeze brushed our cheeks and he let go of my hand and sprinted the last switchback down. Pololu Valley was under our feet and we were the ants that people peered down at from the overlook.

The black sand beach contrasted with the lush green cliff sides and we felt a million miles from everything.

We walked as far as we could up the valley (stopped by the flooding of the high tide).  Birds whooshing around our heads, strange calls from critters unknown, mongoose scurrying across our path, noni and papaya dropping from the trees. We felt so small in the grand scheme of things. But our hearts were swelling with the wonder of it all.

Then we looked up. 1000+ feet is all gravity on the way down. And now we had to use our own power to scramble back up to the top. This time we contemplated the tiny ants-people we could make our on the side of the cliff, trudging ever upward.

My biggest worry was that I would tire AND he would tire and we'd end up sleeping on the pile of rocks we were too pooped to scramble. Maybe all that beach play and hiking into the valley wasn't such a great idea? Then there was water and snacks. We only had a partial apple and about 2/3 of our water bottle left. But the way up was different. The boy bounded with confidence, leapt up the steep rocks like a mountain goat, and laughed off every stumble (each which sprouted a new grey hair for me, seeing your baby loose his footing on a 1000 foot narrow trail will take a few days off your life.) He carefully rationed water with me, tiny sips and a few bites of apple at each shady spot. (I should have remembered how well he did hiking the volcano when he was barely 4) Before we knew it, we were back at the top. Well ok, he was back at the top WAY before me. But with all that little boy energy he kept scrambling part way back down to me to tell me to hurry up, then ascent again, then back again... oh if we could bottle it and sell it!

We bid farewell to this special place, watching the humpback whales breach out in the briny blue. And headed back up the road for ice cream. I so love adventuring with this boy!