Makapuu and Other Human Foibles

You know something about who you are when you hike the Makapuu Lighthouse Trail with your family on a scorching hot day with only two containers of water.

Let me start off by saying that I recently took one of those online personality tests and it pegged me as ISFJ or "nurturer." You know, like Kim Kardashian. No lie, she was my celebrity comp. Because, yeah, I have always thought me and Kim Kardashian have a lot in common, like...we are both humans who were born on the planet Earth and one day we will both die and stuff. Also, Mother Teresa, she was another of my celebrity comps.  Um-kay.

Anyway, anyone who saw me on the Makapuu hike that day knows in no uncertain terms that the personality test was flawed and I am definitely not a "nurturer." I wanted no part of sharing the water, with Husband and children. They had to pry it out of my fingers.

The Makapuu Trail is beautiful in a way that is impossible to describe or even show in pictures. Breaktaking. Literally. It takes away your breath. Sweeping views of the Atlantic Ocean Pacific Ocean (I can't seem to get used to the fact that I'm not an East Coast girl anymore), rolling hills strewn with rocks, side trails that lead to cooling tidal pools.

And no fresh water.

Or bathrooms. (Except for the one I invented behind the big rock.)

It's completely open to the hot sun with no reprieve. Here in Hawaii, we seek out shade like animals, hunker down in it until the scorching part of the day has passed and we can venture once more into the world. Shade is all. When you're this close to the equator, you have no choice but to love the shadows. (Hmm, there's a metaphor in there, but I don't know if this is the place for it.)

If it had just been me, I would have started the hike at 7:00 in the morning and been done before the hot part of the day, but Husband and children can be difficult to wrestle into the car and we didn't get going until 1:00. Big mistake. And then I had to share the water. Terrible fate.

We eventually made it up the steep incline, rationing out sips from the Hydro Flask (I know Second Son took more than his share, I just know it!), complaining bitterly about the heat, sharing hats, so that everyone got a chance for some personal shade.

And then when we finally got to the top, overwhelmed by our sense of togetherness, I started singing (to myself, thankfully): Started from the bottom now we're here. Started from the bottom now my whole team's here...

Clearly time to introduce the kids to some new music, it's starting to rub-off on me...

But still, a great hike for the whole family. Just bring plenty of water for yourself and a little extra in case you run into me.