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JUST A MOANING COUNTRY DRIVE.

A beautiful ride to almost end all further drives.

Scenic sites or not!
 

The Plot's The King!

    There is something drastically unnerving about driving in strange places!
    The unknown, of course!
    The unexpected, natch!
    And the outright horror when you have two drivers in a car!
    We're from Southern California, where one can drive some 50 miles up to Santa Barbara, a mere one hour freeway zip.  Half that distance offers a lovely ocean view of the Gold Coast.  A neat morning drive.
   So.  This morning we had started along the normal roadway that ran north of our hotel, to go around west Maui.  The map indicated a route that circled this end of the island, and seemed to indicate all sorts of towns and resorts--interesting places to see before it would start turning eastward around the island.  So it seem, upon a casual glance.
    What didn't sink in was map scale!  We weren't about to do a long zip up 50 miles of coast.  The printed notes on the map indicated hotels and such, not towns and cities.  So things should have been even easier than they originally appeared, at first look see.
    But.  What had seemed likely to be an easy morning drive became a bit of a challenging adventure.
    The visual sites were deliciously rewarding; no question about that!

    First, let me digress just a bit to make a point:  We'd been warned about the road to Hana for weeks and months.  It was a marital challenge just to bring up the subject.  I wanted to drive.  Brigitte wanted a tour bus pro to take charge of the transportation.
    Everybody said the Hana road was a lovely two lane highway which twisted and turned and wound its way through jungles and across very narrow, one-lane bridges and--some said "Avoid at all cost!"

    Well, of course, this drive, today, wasn't Hana.

    And what we saw was about to change our Maui lives forever more.

    It had all the elements for a thrilling, terrifying Steven King-type horror story!

    Well, there were more than enough elements to build a really startling, strange and suspenseful storyline.   Sadly, the following isn't a bit of fictional fluff.  It is hard facts--though, perhaps, structured to protect the innocent and guilty alike!

•     Beautiful, breathtaking landscapes.
•     Sandy white and black beaches!
•     Green lush mountainsides.
•     Those dramatic skies.
•     Tropic Island cafes.
•     Flowers flowers flowers.
•     Warm ocean breezes.
•     Non-erupting volcanoes.
•     Delicious natural parks.
•     Pineapples, cocanuts, rum drinks.
•     Lovely drives in the country!

    I still can't remember why we didn't turn around while we could.  Maybe it wasn't as simple as it seems in the retelling.  We forgot that one good turn deserves another and another and another.  To say nothing about all those bad turns.
    It is really quite difficult to know what is around the next breath-crunching bend in the road.  I only remember that we both wanted to scream and reverse our direction.
    But we kept telling ourselves, the terror was about to end, just around the next corner!

    "Turn around." Brigitte choked out between frozen teeth.  "Now!"
    "Where?" I desperately searched without moving my eyes off the road.
    "I don't care.  Just turn around!"
    Sure!  Just, maybe, around the next bend things will look better!
    For some reason she remained grimly silent after that.
    After a while it got to the point where more road was behind us.  All my attention was hot at the task of keeping the car safely on this so-called road.
    We gritted our teeth, clutch the chicken bars (which weren't there, really) and suffered each anguished turn--in grim silence moaning.
    So, like all innocently foolish travelers, we manage to avoid instant divorce and keep truckin' our way like two terrified rats in a tight confining maze.  I think we could have walked backwards faster than the car's forward movement.
    I didn't even want to think what might happen if we came across an approaching car.
    So we continued to hope that the next turn, or maybe the next would offer some relief.
 
 

    There were the roller coaster parts and hairpin curves.  Up, down, around, in and out, until our heads spun, our eyes bulged from overwhelming terror.
    Where were we headed now?

    I was near the point of experiencing a Spiritual awakening!  I kept remembering that church we'd passed.
    Where was it now?
    When we really needed it?
    Where were all the godfolk, with their loving promise of Heavenly rewards?
    At any time, now, I might've bowed my head in prayer, but didn't dare take my eyes off the bloody road.
    "Why, oh why oh Maui?" I moaned.
    "Wake me up!" I pleaded with any listening supernatural power.  I wasn't about to be to picky as to whom might respond to my demands.  Any real or imagined god would do!
    "Get me outta here!"
    Would this road never end--or was there simply no escape?

    Even here in the distant Pacific island, it was possible to expect the impossible.
    The Gods of Maui turned out to be merely playful with their helplessly trapped, innocent tourists.  They brutally lead us to the very brink of cruel self revelation and then reluctantly released their powerful hold on our shattered souls.

     Our unspoken prayers for a longer, healthy Maui life were about to be answered.  Not in a flash of silvery fire, or the wave of a magic wand.  But slowly, ever so slowly, as if surfacing from a deep black well of icy water.  At first it seemed impossible!  Could it be?  Or were we merely being tricked by some new horrid, cruel illusion?

    And the Drive to Hana was, from that moment on, something to really look forward to with intense excitement.  Nothing could match the terrorizing effect of this moaning drive in the country.