Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Moments
Driving Up to an Erupting Volcano
When the hot tropical sun quits for the day, do not miss seeing the
eruption—after dark. At night, it's the greatest show on earth: Red
rivers of fire flow just below the surface, visible through the fissures
between your feet, and Jell-O-like globs of molten lava inch their way
down the mountain and pour into the steaming Pacific, creating the
newest land on earth. The ongoing eruption has been pouring out
lava for more than 20 years, with no sign of stopping. Visitors wanting
to see the lava flow have had difficulties in the past, as Madame Pele
would roll her lava across the very roads leading to the eruption. Be
sure to call ahead (
&
808/985-6000
) to check where the current erup-
tion is and how to get there.
Every time you go, the eruption will be different. The best plan is to
go about an hour or two before sunset. Before you jump into your car,
be sure to bring a flashlight, plenty of water, sturdy closed-toe shoes,
and a jacket for after the sun has set. Some even pack sandwiches and
juice, and a banana and an apple (for later, to rid your mouth of the
lingering sulfur taste), plus an extra jug of water because it's hot out
there on the lava, even after dark.
By the time you can see the telltale plume of smog that rises 1,000
feet in the sky, like a giant exclamation point, you will be near the end
of Highway 130. Follow the signs to the newly constructed road, where
you will be directed to park. From there you usually can see ruby rivers
of lava running to the sea. Close to the parking area is a pile of steam-
ing black pillowy-looking stuff with a silvery sheen—it's actually rock-
hard pahoehoe lava, like swirls of chocolate frosting.
The first step onto the hardened lava is scary. It crunches like
crushed glass under your heels. (You'll be happy you have closed-toe
shoes or hiking boots.) In the distance, you can see a red road map of
molten lava glowing in the cracks and flowing in fiery rivulets about a
foot below the surface. Depending on where the eruption is, you will
have to walk a quarter-mile to a mile, in pitch-black darkness (except
for your flashlight), to the intersection of lava and sea—but it's a walk
that is well worth the trouble.
Silhouetted against the fire, visitors stand at the edge of the earth
witnessing the double act of creation and destruction. The lava hisses
and spits and crackles as it moves, snakelike, in its perpetual flow to
the sea, dripping like candle wax into the wavy surf—fire and water,
the very stuff of the islands. The lava still burns underwater until the
vast Pacific Ocean finally douses the fire and transforms the flow into
yet more black-sand beach.
It's a sight you will never forget.
WHAT YOU'RE LIKELY TO SEE
With luck the volcano will still be
streaming rivers of red lava when you visit the park, but a continuous eruption
of this length (more than 2 decades) is setting new ground, so to speak. Kilauea
continues to perplex volcanologists, because most major eruptions in the past
have ended abruptly after only several months.
