The Beach Chair Blues...

and how to avoid them. 

I wonder, (remember I wander and wonder) if there will ever come a time when I wake up, stretch, scratch a few private places and go sit on a beach chair. That'll be my day. So far, I've been dodging this less than grueling lifestyle.

How do you do it Jeff? Good question.

I owe it all to a pot of coffee each and every morning. 

In the Aloha State, I've been drinking Kona and Columbian brews (Good Stuff). For me it acts like a liquid defibrillator. After downing a gallon, I have to go out and do something. That energy has to be directed somewhere. So I might as well hike to pretty places like this.

Poor Eddie might have drank too much of my brew. He OD'ed. 

I don't condone the use of legal drugs for everyone, but it sure works for me. Time and time again.

Now it's time for an IPA,
Speaking of book sales and IPA's, I sold one Kindle edition of "Destroying Demons on the Diagonal" today. That will buy me one/third of locally made "Throwaway or Big Swill" IPA. Their real names are Castaway and Big Swell. The Hawaiians are more adapt at making java than hoppy beer.

Good night

PS. Those Wisconsin cows (see my shirt) provide the Half & Half for my coffee. God Bless them.

"And now the rest of the story"...

The 1871 Trail acquired it's name from one inter-department mail from  Henry Cooper, Kona road supervisor to F.W Hutchinson, Minister of the Interior dated August 1, 1871.

 "I have remade two miles of road on the beach across the lands of Ke'ei and Hōnaunau, this improvement was much required as the road had become almost impassable."

History lost the second half of this message. But Jeff Sambur, archives sleuth found the aged parchment in a dusty corner of the Kona library. 

Here it is:

"Hey F.W, I wasn't going to bust a nut on this project. It ain't a bowl of papayas (see photo) to try and make a two horse trail out of lava.

Here's my suggestion, if we hang loose until 1959, Hawaii will become a state. Then the Mainland Haoles (White Guys) will come in with Federal Highway Funds and build us a two lane highway. Until that time, we can surf, drink umbrella drinks and work on our tans.

Wadya say?" 

And that's the rest of the story.

Good day!

Jeff (Paul Harvey) Sambur

PS the trail is still good enough for one goose.

Four Hours and a 200 Mile Round Trip...

drive to visit the origins of my cough in Volcano National Park. I know-Stoopid! 

I had a game plan of hiking a long loop, but the recent eruptions vaporized that idea. Volcanos are so inconvenient. 

So I hiked through a crater resembling the end product of a drugged out asphalt paving crew. It's not the most scenic National Park, although the nearby rain forest is pretty neat. 

Damn those Portuguese for introducing the Faya tree so they could make wine. What's the matter? Manischewitz or Morgan David wine isn't good enough?

If a tree can grow in Brooklyn, I guess it can make a living at the bottom of a stark crater. Mother Nature hates a void.

Some visitors donned helmets because they were worried about another cataclysmic explosion. Now that's being paranoid. 

The journey there was so stoopid, I'll do it again. There's a few more craters to see. Who knows, maybe I'll be on hand to see the Goddess Pele really perform. 

Someone should tell the EPA about this park. I know all this noxious venting is in violation of the Clean Air Act of 1970. The NPS needs to be held accountable. 

Have a volcano free day,

Jeff