Tour Guide at Dreamland Safari Tours, hiking for a living

Dreaded endings can give way to amazing beginnings. Despite a very warm welcome by the Kanab community, that first Utah winter after we moved from Hawaii felt long, cold and lonely.

My mood improved drastically the day I started my new job as a tour guide at a Kanab tour company called Dreamland Safari Tours.

Driving 4X4 Suburbans out to incredible southern Utah locales and sharing my love of the Arizona desert came quite naturally. I suppose it's because I was practically a tour guide in Hawaii already, I just never got paid for it.

It's richly rewarding to be chosen as a tour guide by a traveler, to have the chance to make their day the highlight of their trip to the American Southwest. Travel is expensive and days off work are valuable. I get to make a truck full of new friends every day, and these guests come from all over the world to experience southern Utah. One couple had traveled to every continent in the world, yet they insisted White Pocket in Vermilion Cliffs National Monument was the most incredible place they had experienced. I always say the terrain at White Pocket is otherworldly.

I've had guests stop dead in their tracks, awestruck by the red sandstone formations at South Coyote Buttes. I've led people to the Wave, helping them fulfill what's practically a lifetime dream. Dozens of kids have somersaulted down the Coral Pink Sand Dunes (OK, I led the way on that), we've chimneyed up the sides of Peekaboo Canyon, the gorgeous red rock slot canyon just north of Kanab and we've blazed our way through the sandy wash at Rosy Canyon in the Suburban seeking out ancient petroglyphs. I've also let people out to the famed Wave in Arizona. Wave permits are hard to get, and for many it's a bucket list item to hike to the Wave and see North Coyote Buttes.

Dreamland Safari Tours even paid me to camp overnight at Toroweap, a Grand Canyon north rim viewpoint that is as remote as it is stunning. Camping at Toroweap has been one of my favorite aspirations for years - the best night sky I've ever seen in my life when when I stayed overnight at Tuweep. I got to share that with others. Two guys on the trip were so excited to watch the sun rise over the Grand Canyon I don't think they slept all night. Hopefully, I'll get to go on more overnight tours. 

Dreamland Safari Tours is right up my alley because it specializes in getting people off the beaten path, to the most incredible, secluded desert destinations they can't get to on their own. These are 4X4 tours and I get to "push the fun button" to put the truck in four-wheel drive on pretty much every tour I lead. Where the pavement ends, the fun begins." That's my company's motto. It could practically be my motto too. 

This photo was taken on my very first tour. I hosted a super fun group of ladies from the Philippines and we took so many silly pictures at White Pocket.

Being a tour guide to the Wave in Arizona is reward because for many people, it's a life-long goal to get there.

Reflecting pools at White Pocket present incredible photography opportunities.

Being a tour guide presents its rewards and challenges. And White Pocket offers opportunity for sill photos too. 

This White Pocket reflecting pool photo is one of my favorites. There are incredible photography opportunities at White Pocket.

Guests climb around in Peekaboo Canyon, a gorgeous red rock slot canyon near Kanab, Utah.

There were mountains of camping gear to set up and haul for our Toroweap overnight tour.

Six Months More

Well the Jeep lived just a little bit longer. When unsuitable buyers arrived I chased them away until Chris was convinced the best thing to do was rebuild Jeep's transmission. Six more months of joyous riding ensured - another trip to Makalawena, a trip to South Point beyond Kaalualu. But nothing lasts forever and I eventually had to sell the Jeep in preparation for our trip to Utah. Chris had the best advice. I should think about the young lady who was buying Jeep - all of the fresh, new adventures she would have. She was the perfect buyer. She had just returned from cliff jumping at South Point when she came to see the Liberty. On our test drive in the Jeep, she turned steeply and the tires made that ridiculous scraping sound inside the wheel well. She smiled and was happy I had chosen big tires. She understood the value of ground clearance. Yes, she was the right buyer for Jeep and I often wonder what kind of fun those two are now having together.

The objects that represented my Hawaii lifestyle disappeared one by one at the garage sale... our surf boards, spear guns, wet suits and machetes. What strange times those were. I dreaded our Hawaii departure for months, feared its potential for years. Now I just wanted to rip off that Band Aid and get past the moving, packing and goodbyes. Seeing friends for the last time was the worst. I dreaded it, so much worse than hearing my Jeep drive away with a strange new driver behind the wheel.

Of course, there is a lot of excitement on the other end. A brand new house we had never seen, cars and motorcycles to buy, neighbors to meet, new land to explore. Not to mention parents, excited to receive us in Kanab. But winter was cold and long and my new Subaru, while practical, couldn't compete with the capability of Jeep. Finally, winter turned to spring. A new job driving 4X4 Suburbans full of visitors out to remote spots helped me miss Jeep less, gave me purpose and helped me connect with my new environment. There have been tons of highlights, actually. Driving around in a UPS truck in December, learning perspectives from a real Kanab local, enjoying homemade goodies from incredible new neighbors, my new orchestra performing on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Dreaded endings can give way to amazing beginnings.

Our first stop from the Las Vegas airport was to purchase this Subaru Forester so we could drive home. The second stop was to our stash of camping gear. For years, we had been hiding chairs, fuel canisters and other items we couldn't fly back to Hawaii with in the desert. If felt like a homecoming to pick up the chairs for the last time.

67,953

67,953. That's how many miles of road, rock and rubble have passed beneath the wheels of my 2005 Jeep Liberty Renegade. Today I say goodbye to a friend whose transmission has given out, and the repair is too costly to make. Sure, I'm being melodramatic. Yes, I know it's just a car. To me, it's always meant a little more.

I was young, carefree and for the first time had enough money to make irresponsible choices such as buying a car that gets poor fuel economy and installing a lift kit to gain couple extra inches of ground clearance. (Thank you Stuart for the install. You've made the past 11 years of my life better) Loyal readers have read about my ground clearance saga, my complaints about the Wet Okole seat covers leaking at the seams and have seen countless pictures of the Jeep covering the island's off road terrain.

I tracked the Matson ship's GPS coordinates constantly as it carried Jeep from Seattle to Hawaii. The night Jeep came home, Sarah came over and inspected every nook and cranny with me. I almost slept in the car that first night.  I couldn't believe it was mine. I photographed Jeep's first oil change on Jan. 10, 2006, and have even received birthday cards from my car. We've carried surf boards and kayaks on the roof rack and hung sheep and pigs from that bar for butchering. The Jeep would take me on my first dates with my husband-to-be, to work and back for the next 10 years and to the top of the highest peak for thousands of miles where it would finally feel snow under its tires.

Good times, old friend. Good times.

I bought the Jeep particularly so I could drive to Malakawena. Many friends have ridden down the bumpy road to this marvelous spot.

Even Hawaii Jeeps get to enjoy a little snow.

Jeep's first trip up the Kilohana hunter roads

One of our first dates was driving to Keawaiki Beach. The road is now gated.

Where to buy passion puree

Pun intended, I have grown a passion for lilikoi, which is Hawaiian passion fruit. Since having moved to Hawaii 16 years ago, I've made a hobby out of growing tropical fruit, cooking with fruit and seeking out unusual varieties at the farmers market. A few favorites I've discovered are cherimoya, mangosteen, and rolinia. Mango, papaya, lychee and cooking bananas are among my common farmers market purchases.

Pineapple obviously comes to mind when one things of Hawaii, but among locals, perhaps no fruit tastes more like home than the lilikoi. Potlucks often have lilikoi lemonade and cheesecake topped with passion fruit sauce, pancakes are served with lilikoi syrup and homemade passion fruit butter is gifted at Christmas. I've never grown my own lilikoi simply because I didn't know how to juice it, but I recently came across excellent suggestions for how to juice a lilikoi so maybe I'll get a vine planted. If anything else, I can enjoy the passion fruit flowers, which are absolutely gorgeous.

There are tons of lilikoi recipes out there, and for folks like me who don't grow their own passion fruit, Da Vine Foods sells pure passion fruit puree without sugar or anything else added. It saves the sticky work of processing and you can use it for practically anything.

Da Vine Foods has all kinds of lilikoi products and I've tried several: A drink mixer, a lilikoi coconut butter that I spread on toast and mixed into homemade fruit popsicles, and most recently I had the lilikoi chili pepper sauce. I was a little skeptical to try it, but it made a nice, sweet salad dressing and added pizazz to our boiled shrimp. Next, I want to try the lilikoi coconut syrup, just after I finish the mysore raspberry syrup I recently made.

We got a little wild at dinner and added lilikoi chili pepper sauce to our shrimp and salad.

Hau oli la hanau

Hat's off to Andi's blog on its 10th birthday today. 31,913 page views, 478 posts and counting. Thanks to everyone who has told me how fun the blog has been to read over the years. It's been a pleasure.

Lawless Hawaii

I seldom use my blog to discuss political or social issues. But my friend, Aaron, got me thinking when he posed the question, "What is the greatest issue facing Hawaii in 2016?"

My answer: An inability to enforce the law. I see this in many facets and on all levels of government authority. If affects my day-to-day life on the island, has international implications, and is a trend that will continue in 2016.

The stalled Thirty Meter Telescope debacle is the most prominent example of 1. government not enforcing laws and 2. government not understanding its own laws. After about 15 years of planning, lawsuits and hearings, the state of Hawaii issued TMT a permit to begin construction of the world's most powerful observatory to be placed in the best location for astronomy in all of the Earth's northern hemisphere: Mauna Kea. On the day construction was to begin, a couple hundred protesters blocked the summit road. A group of Hawaiians began illegally camping near the Onizuka center at the 9,000 foot level of the mountain, not letting TMT employees up the mountain. A larger protest days later closed the summit road for more than a month to everyone. The protesters had placed by hand rocks on the road. Removal of the small rocks was too big of a problem for our officials to handle. Tour companies and their employees missed a month's worth of wages and visitors to our island never had the chance to see the incredible mountaintop. Eventually, DLNR enacted "emergency rules" as a way to get the protesters off the mountain. The new laws were supposed to stop camping 1 mile from the access road (already illegal) and they absurdly banned possession of any camping gear in the area, including camp stoves and sleeping bags, inconveniencing law abiding folks, such as those who like to stay warm while stargazing at this famous spot. The state finally did arrest a few protesters, who made bail and drove straight back up the mountain again, but even the new emergency rules went largely unenforced. Charges were later dropped in most of the cases because the state's "emergency rules" were deemed illegal, even though other laws against camping had been in place there for years. We were just too afraid to enforce them. By the way, an ahu (stack of rocks) placed by protesters in the driveway of the TMT site to block access still stands.

In addition to not being able to enforce laws on a person-by-person basis to keep the access road open, there are huge implications in issuing a permit for such a project, then later revoking it, as our State Supreme Court recently did. Apparently, our state didn't understand the law when it issued the special use permit while a contested case hearing against TMT was still in progress. Since the start of the protests and the revocation of the permit, TMT lost an estimated $2 million because of the stall. If they are ultimately not allowed to build, it will cost the organization millions, in my mind probably billions more. Mirrors are already in production in Japan, and the organization gave $100,000 to native Hawaiian education in 2015 as it prepared to build the observatory it had been given permission to construct. Now the project is on hold indefinitely and likely permenantly. I think this has huge implications for our international relations with countries funding the nonprofit TMT, and also businesses or organizations who would seek to bring progress here. It is eerily similar to the bankrupt Hokulia development that had its permits revoked in South Kona after investing millions, and the Superferry, which was largely popular among Hawaii residents, but also had its permit to operate revoked after a handful of surfers paddled out to stop its arrival in Maui on its first voyage and then a second EIS was demanded before operation could continue. The investors, out of money, sold the first boat to the U.S. military at an incredible loss and suspended construction of a second boat. If I was an investor or business person, I would be wary of investing in this state.

Drunk drivers
Lawlessness also prevails on a criminal level. As of Dec. 27, there were 1,055 DUI arrests on Hawaii Island. The arrests themselves seem to be evidence that we don't allow lawlessness, but I believe if penalties were stiff enough, we wouldn't have this many people driving drunk. More disconcerting is the fact that of eight arrested for DUI the week ending in Dec. 27, three of them were involved in crashes. And that percentage is usually higher. We're not catching drunks until the hurt others. Of 14 traffic fatalities in 2015, 11 of the deaths were caused by impaired drivers. On August 3, a drunk driver killed my friend, Robert Weinstock, on his way home from working the night shift at Kona International Airport. To my best knowledge, charges have yet to be filed against Justin Rohan, 26, who stole from four beautiful daughters the life of their loving father. Drunk driving is so prevalent in West Hawaii, it affects my everyday life. I avoid driving at night on weekends or holidays. When attending an event, such as a parade, we drive the truck instead of the motorbike, though it is much harder to park and costs more to drive, because at least it offers a little protection in the likely event we get hit smashed by a drunk. If drinkers ran the risk or real jail time, flogging, or having their license revoked for life, they would find another way home.  A recent letter to the editor in West Hawaii Today by former county council member Brenda Ford claimed Hawaii County has one of the highest DUI rates in the nation. I believe it.

Property crime
Our state does not deal with crime well, either. When I go to the beach, I wear my oldest slippers (yes, we have had our shoes stole off the beach while we were in the water, more than once) I tie my car key to my swimsuit. My car was broken into two years ago by someone who stole my key off the pier while I was swimming. He was prosecuted, but I have yet to see a penny in restitution. We are not effective at making criminals pay for their actions. My husband's customers routinely have motorcycles stolen from their driveways. We plan our trips so to not leave merchandise in the back of the truck, and there are places we cannot hike or camp because we fear parking our car where chances are pretty darn good it will be broken into. A few months back, four of the five cars parked at the Puu Oo trailhead had their windows smashed out with rocks and contents stole when we returned from our hike. Our truck window was all scratched, but the rock didn't break our window. Instead of being surprised we said, "That figures."

It's always better to be outside

My love for the outdoors started at the Indiana Dunes when my parents took me to the beach as a toddler. According to my mom, I was afraid of the water that summer and she worried about having an "indoor" daughter. She didn't have to worry for long.

I felt so grown up the day my dad told me I was big enough to walk from Wilson's shelter all the way to the lake and back. On other occasions, I caught turtles in the swamp by Wilson's shelter and named them all Christopher. That was a weird quirk. A few years later, my parents threw me a camping birthday party with all my friends at the state park. What an adventure that was. Especially for my parents. I first cross country skied on skis rented at, guess where, Wilson's shelter. And when a new visitor's center opened nearby I learned I have the wing span of a Canadian goose, while my dad has the wing span of a great blue heron. I learned tree ID, bird ID, bought an animal track book, lost it, found it and continued studying tracks in the snow. There was sledding, daily trips to the lake just to see how the ice had changed, playing in the water with two broken arms, cutting my arm after digging under a fence (still have the scar) and the memorable storm that threw fierce winter waves over the Michigan City Lighthouse. There was the national park visitor's center with the aerial photo of my town and the documentary film with a silhouette of a woman that I was convinced was my mother, looking for crinoids on the beach. Mr. Schaudt, teacher and park ranger, took us hiking, well, more like wading, through thick swamps.

 Once, my dad sketched out a map of the major dunes along the lakeshore in the sand. Then we hiked them, years before that route had the trendy name of "Three Dune Challenge." As my appreciation for the dunes grew, so did my desire to explore more outdoor places. Which makes me grateful for the place where my love of the outdoors stated.

Mom was so diligent to wrap up the casts on both of my broken wrists so I could play in the waves.

My dad holds our new puppy on the beach at the Indiana Dunes State Park

A Christmas kayak on a snowy beach. It's never too cold to enjoy the lake.

A sandy trail I walked during a recent visit to the dunes.

My dad has the wing span of a great blue heron.

Ohana time

I've always found living far away from family to be difficult. When we left Indiana 15 years ago, I knew Grandma, who had Alzheimer's, would not remember me by the time I came back to visit. I knew cousins would grow up, weddings would happen and babies would be born while I'd be watching it on a computer screen from thousands of miles away. Then I married Chris and gained another entire family, just as fantastic as the one I already had, but also thousands of miles in the distance.

I'm so grateful we were able to take an extended trip this fall to not only help out with some projects there, but just to be there for the everyday life that we miss out on. I believe strongly that people work too much, and that if given the option, it's worth sacrificing some of our material wealth for time. Time for popping popcorn and watching a movie. Time for helping parents store up winter firewood. Time for taking a break from that firewood cutting to give kids rides in trailers. Time just to live and enjoy life. Time for prayer and getting closer to our Creator, knowing this discontentment I feel is simply a longing for permanence God put in my heart so that I'll look forward to heaven.

Grandma watches the kids every Thursday

A really fun dinner

Jaspers gather at the end of a great party



Family members wears sweaters, all handcrafted by my mom
 



"Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten" reads the artwork my niece, Lydia, made me. Before the recent trip, I hadn't seen her since she visited almost eight years ago while I was preparing for my wedding.

Give it a good, strong push

I've purposely left some details out of this post because I don't think OSHA would approve of a tugboat captain letting us join him for a day on the job. We stayed right on the Mississippi River in Minnesota for several weeks and saw many tugs pushing grain, salt, gravel and empty barges up and down the river. Industry in action. Something we see very little of in Hawaii.

The skill of the boat captain was apparent as he shuffled barges around the river and swapped them out until he had the desired load all chained up and ready. We even had a chance to drive. Needless to say, it was the largest object I have ever had control of. I learned you have to start steering around bends early to keep the ship in the channel where the river is deep. The river's current pushes hard and with the barges, the ship is quite long. The captain had us pass very close to the buoys marking the channel and with all those barges out in front, it felt like each buoy was a mile away and you'd hit it for sure.

We learned how incredibly efficient this shipping method is. It takes very little fuel to push several train loads of product up the river. Since upstream locks were closed to prevent the spread of Asian carp, several thousand extra trucks are on the road every day to carry cargo north that used to be pushed up by the tugs.

What a great day we had. It was refreshing to see someone who loves his job, is good at it and is doing something productive and tangible. I feel lucky to have experienced that.

Here is a vide of Chris driving the tug: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIcvSt0z71U

Chris inspects the engine

A tug heads down the river

I try my skills at steering the gigantic barges through the channel