Chicago Tribune

By Jay Jones

As he moves slowly along a narrow ribbon of road not often traveled by tourists, Douglas Nakata shared an exhilarating caution with his passengers.

“Be ready for the downward motion,” he warned. “It’s the steepest road in the state of Hawaii.”

With that, he downshifts his 4x4 for the 900-foot drop from the top of the ridge down into the lush, untamed landscape of Waipio Valley.

“The road is pretty impressive,” he understated.

Born and raised here, Nakata leads tours for Waipio Valley Shuttle. He and other locals are the only people with the experience required to tackle the twisting, shockingly steep grade of the road.

“Howzit!” Nakata hollered at another local as their vehicles inched past each other, somehow managing to avoid any scraping. In pidgin English, a vernacular often heard in remote parts of Hawaii, the greeting means “What’s up?”

The remoteness is precisely what gives the Waipio Valley its charm. Tucked away along the Hamakua Coast to the north of Hilo, this seldom-visited region is full of natural surprises worth the drive from the bustling resorts on the other side of the Big Island.

Independent types can explore in their rental cars — until they reach Waipio Valley Road, that is — or they can leave the driving to the informative guides at KapohoKine Adventures.

Travelers who want to linger longer along the Hamakua Coast no longer have to endure subpar accommodations. The 320-room Grand Naniloa Hotel Hilo wrapped up a $30 million renovation in late 2016 and is now part of the DoubleTree by Hilton family. Rooms start at $134 a night.

Heading north out of Hilo on Highway 19, the first detour is to the Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden, reached by a narrow road that crosses rushing streams on one-lane stone bridges.

It seems as though all imaginable flora flourishes in the garden. This part of Hawaii averages 150 inches of rain a year, more than five times the rainfall along the Kona coast, on the dry side of the island.

Wise travelers who understand that the sun can be replaced by rain clouds in a matter of minutes pack umbrellas and waterproof jackets for the trek through the greenery, scattered with colorful flowers. A shower adds to the flow of water rushing over the rocks of Onomea Falls.

Each of Onomea’s short (but beautiful) waterfalls is downright tame compared with the raging thunder of Akaka Falls, in a state park of the same name. A paved path (though not wheelchair-accessible) leads past the 100-foot Kahuna Falls before reaching the star attraction, Akaka. Set amid a rainforest full of bamboo, eucalyptus and orchids, the waterfall features a jaw-dropping 442-foot cascade.

The roads in these parts are lined by fallow fields of sugar cane, a crop no longer commercially harvested. The last sugar mill, in the sleepy town of Honokaa, closed in 1993.

With the loss of jobs, the once-bustling community fell on hard times. Folks heading to Waipio Valley should stop here to visit the eclectic shops and to grab some “grinds,” pidgin for “food.” At lunchtime, Gramma’s Kitchen (808-775-9943, no website) serves steaming bowls of Portuguese bean soup, a testament to the immigrants who once toiled amid the cane.

Don’t be surprised if you’re surrounded by locals at Gramma’s or Tex Drive-In, where people flock for the malasadas, a fried pastry that made its way from Portugal’s Madeira islands to the Hawaiian islands.

Built in 1930, the Honokaa People’s Theatre fell into disrepair after the sugar-cane plantation folded; it eventually closed. Now restored, it’s once again a gathering spot not only for movies but also for events, such as hula shows. Bunches of ripe bananas and a small sign that says “Take One” hang beside the listing of movie times.

Save room for the sweet treats at Donna’s Cookies (808-776-1668, no website) in Paauilo, 9 miles south of Honokaa. Blink and you’ll miss it, but once in the parking lot, you’ll smell the sweet aroma of the fresh-baked cookies. The finished products are so delicious that, in pidgin, they say they “brok da mout” — although “broke the mouth” seems like a backhanded compliment.

Since only two or three visitors can squeeze into the small space, a line often forms outside. Customers are greeted by a friendly handful of women who stand at a large table packing cookies in flavors like butter coconut, Chinese almond and macadamia nut.

Upcountry in Umikoa, Hawaiian Legacy Tours takes visitors on a bumpy ride up a dirt track to an elevation around 5,000 feet, where you can do your part to restore the over-forested koa trees on the slopes of the dormant Mauna Kea volcano. Here, overlooking the ocean, visitors can plant seedlings to add to the 350,000 existing trees.

“It (koa) doesn’t grow anywhere else in the world except Hawaii,” said Darrell Fox, an executive with the tour company’s parent organization, Hawaiian Legacy Hardwoods. He noted that only 25 percent of the tropical hardwood will ever be harvested. The rest will remain part of the massive reforestation project.

Back in Waipio Valley, the ride was slightly less jarring during Douglas Nakata’s descent. He pulled over beside a hand-painted sign nailed to a tree. It reads: “Waipio is like heaven. Don’t drive like hell. Slow down.”

From this stop, his guests can grab photos of Hawaii’s tallest, but seldom seen, waterfall: Hiilawe Falls, with its stunning, 1,200 foot plunge.

Despite the 4x4’s arduous journey downward — followed by a drive through five rivers and two irrigation canals — visitors still can only see Hiilawe from afar. It’s miles beyond the road’s reach, which adds to the mystique of this tucked-away piece of heaven, just as the sign says.

Jay Jones is a freelance writer.

Source: Chicago Tribune