Heaven takes me to the Hidden Valley

So Heaven and I paddled and paddled up the Huleia River. The channel kept getting narrower, the mangroves more dense, the mosquitoes more belligerent. I started to feel like an extra in Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now. Eventually the river got so shallow that it was difficult to continue forward. Heaven said to head towards shore. We tied up to a tree and started traipsing through the jungle with Heaven pointing out all the things we could eat if we were stranded here. I was hoping that wasn’t going to be the case.

We stopped to have a look at a wild strawberry guava tree. Heaven pulled a ripe fruit off the tree and offered it to me. I broke it open. In the middle, squirming around, was a mass of white worms. I tossed the fruit to the ground. Heaven ate a couple and professed them to be the sweetest strawberry guava fruits she’d ever had.

There were different types of wild taro, sweet potatoes, shampoo ginger, and even the odd papaya tree. None of which, Heaven told me, were indigenous to Hawaii. They were all part of the original canoe plants brought over by the first Polynesians to come to the islands some 1,500 years ago. “People think of Hawaii and they think of coconut trees,” said Heaven, “but there were no coconut palms originally on the islands.”

We also came across several kukui trees. You know those black shellacked nuts that they string into leis and put around your neck when you check-in at some nice resort? That’s the kukui nut. Heaven said back in the day only Hawaiian royalty could wear a kukui nut lei. “Now you can get them at Walmart for three bucks.”

Hawaiians make a relish out of kukui nuts called inamona. They roast the nuts, mash them, and then mix them with sea salt. But you can’t eat very much of the stuff, Heaven said. “You eat a tiny bit and soon you’ll have to go to the bathroom. You eat a whole one and you’ve already gone.” She broke one open and offered to let me taste it. I declined.

Eventually, after about a mile hike, we made it to our destination: Hidden Valley Falls. Frankly, it was a little anticlimactic. The “falls” was just a thin stream of water dropping about six-feet over some mossy rocks. We took the requisite photo and then headed back down to the river along a different path. This is kind of the long way back, said Heaven. That’s okay, isn’t it?

Why not? I figure with Heaven there’s always got to be more than one way to get to the promised land.