Why is Kauai memorable?

I just returned from Kauai, Hawaii. The locale was everything I expected: clear water, lush vistas, great snorkeling. But it was more. It was wild (feral, not crazy) chickens, some roads that were more hole than road, and one-lane bridges. While the expected Eden is what drew me there, it was the unexpected, less perfect oddities that gave it its charm. 

Birds of paradise

The first wildlife I saw in Kauai? Tropical fish? No. Insects the size of my face? No. Brightly colored birds? Eh, sort of. As I left the airpot, I saw some chickens out in the open, running wild. Over the course of the trip, I found them in parking lots, at secluded beaches, and way up in the mountains. To their credit, they were more colorful than the monochromatic chickens of childrens books. They sat under cars, chased each other, and cruised about with their clutches of chicks. Elderly people fed them crumbs, adults videotaped them, and one kid yelled, "Die, chicken, die!". Think large, land-bound pigeons taking the place of stray cats. 

But instead of hearing yowls of alley cats, I heard roosters cock-a-doodle-doodling much of the day, which was quite different from the chirping of tropical birds that I expected. From what I've read about roosters (which consists almost completely of books aimed at 6 years olds), I thought they were only supposed to crow in the morning. I guess these roosters can't even read at a 6 year old's level so they crowed all the time. Fortunately, I only got annoyed once when one decided to roost just outside of my window one morning. I was ready preheat the oven. 

Supposedly, they are wild because Hurricane Iniki hit the island in 1992 and liberated the chickens. Here in California, it takes a Proposition to give chickens a little more freedom, but Hawaii has a different, more effective way. Without any natural predators, they ran amok. Come to think of it, the largest animal I saw was a chicken--except for the humans. And I did have fried chicken one night at a less-than-fancy place...but I'm sure they imported that. 

Holey Mary, Mother of God

Most of the roads were great, but the one that led up to and past Waimea canyon had more holes than a sieve--or even a net. Imagine every pothole you've ever driven through, add that to every pothole you've successfully avoided, multiply by 5, and put all those on the road directly in front of you. If that's not worrisome enough, add some fog, a slope, and a narrow road. That's what the road was like in some patches. Now, be very glad you're driving a rental car because if you were driving my 1989 Integra...you'd end up walking. But now, say a prayer because you just remembered that you didn't get the insurance, and based on the number of holes, one will probably eat a tire, a wheel, a bumper, or a passenger. It wasn't the scariest ride I've done (like I said, I drive an '89 Integra), but it was the worst road I think I've seen and/or felt rack my body.

The drive was well worth it. Not only did we get to view the amazing canyonscape, but we took an 8 mile hike (round trip) to Kilohana lookout. The hike started on a ridge. It was like standing on the rim of a cappuccino. One side was a valley filled to the brim with dense fog whereas the other side had a clearly-visible, verdant valley. The trail was mostly boardwalk, but the parts that were not were filled with many mud pits and steep, wet rock. In some respects, it was like to drive up: smooth most of the way but trying to kill its travelers at other times. 

The boardwalk was necessary because the trail took us through the highest swamp on earth. I know, that phrase reads like "oooh! highest!" and then "uhhh, swamp?". I'm no swamp expert, but I was not overwhelmed by its swampiness, which I'm going to say is a good thing. The hike ended at a cliff face overlooking the north shore of the island and a cavernous, lush valley that leads to it. It was a vista as grand as I've ever seen, perhaps grander because I had put in some work to get there. My words could never adequately describe it, but it made the hike and the drive well worth it. Plus, we could see where we had driven the day before, making it me feel that we had really made it around the island.

One-lane bridges

Towards the end of the road I just mentioned, which takes you up the east side of the island, there are a number of one-lane bridges. When I first saw the sign "One Lane Bridge Ahead", I was a bit nervous. After all, what if the one-way is going against me? How would I ever get across it? Yeah, sometimes I think stupid thoughts. I'm guessing they were cheaper than the two-lane bridges and traffic was low enough that it didn't matter. 

They basically work like a two way stop in that you yield the right of way to anybody who got there before you. The bridges are all pretty short so you can see the other side. If nobody's on the bridge, you can drive across without stopping. But unlike a two way stop, local courtesy says that five to seven cars are allowed to cross one way if they are all waiting there. So, if there is a line coming at you, somebody after the fifth or sixth car should yield and give you and four or six cars behind you a chance to cross. It was pretty easy and effective. However, I'm not going to recommend it for the Dumbarton or Golden Gate Bridges.

Chickens, potholes, and one-lane bridges: these unexpected imperfections made Kauai feel like a good friend, and I'd go back to visit in a second.