In the early morning hours there wasn't a soul in sight. Just us, some big puffy cotton ball clouds, and the calm stillness of the sacred pools.
Apparently this area was once home to coastal Hawaiian villages; a lot of their archeological and architectural structures still remained. Pretty cool to think that we camped on the same land and probably woke up to the same beautiful views.
It was a breathtaking spot of serenity; a place we tried to capture via a million an one photos.
We could have spent the entire day here -- or at least until noon when the crowds descended. Our moments of peaceful solitude were short-lived as we had to catch a flight back to Oahu later that afternoon. I have no idea what we were thinking dilly dallying the way we did, even hiking a bit on the Pipiwai trail before realizing way late in the game that we should probably get going. I think maybe we thought driving South around the island would be much faster than the road to Hana, especially since we didn't need to make any stops -- except that it wasn't. We must have finally gotten some kind of reception because after consulting Google Maps we realized we had made a fatal flaw -- the fastest and shortest way back to the airport was via the treacherous Road to Hana. Crap.
Sly burned rubber as he sped around curve after winding curve, up and down hills on a road best-suited for a sports car commercial. Meanwhile, I stood semi-hunched in the back of the van, balancing as if on a surfboard while at the same time frantically packing all the crap we had strewn inside our Westie. How I didn't get nauseous and puke all over the backseat of that campervan I'll never know.
In terms of close calls, this ranked high on the list. We had *just* enough time to return our campervan at the weird warehouse area, call and catch a cab, and get to the airport in time to check in for our flight back to Oahu.