Background:
Polihale is effectively, the furthest away that one can travel from the Range and still be on the island. Although Polihale is only 60 miles away, do not be mislead, we're talking island miles. What would be at most an hour jaunt on your local interstate, becomes a nearly 2 hour journey - or if you consider the dynamic scenery, more of a sightseeing tour.
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Not to mention (although I'm about to mention it) our stops at Walmart & Costco which are surprisingly hectic at all times for such a small & laid back island. I guess the only thing laid back about these places are the people that work there - contributing to delays in line, but that's island style bra.
We arrived to catch the last glimpse of light of the sun setting (over the water - now that we're on the west coast). The following picture was taken whilst still unloading, let's call it Exhibit A:
(ain't she a beaut'?)
We quickly set up camp, made dinner, attempted to use the 4WD on the VW Synchro only to find that the sticker on the side is really not much more than a sticker (sorry Bucduke, still an excellent ride) - and finally relaxed, which is really what camping should be about right? This was unfortunately a fleeting period of relaxation, quickly interrupted by a series of bright lights and revved engines approaching the camp site. Within minutes, we realized we had posted up next to the entrance to...the beach. Apparently Polihale beach, known for it's serenity during the day, transforms into the strip on Friday night. Locals come out to show off their rides to their underage passengers, bump Madonna's newest single (which, not surprisingly, incites a rave), break bottles and curse & scream for no apparent reason. This event, (which I like to call the 'ICE'capades) lasts until sunrise on Saturday morning; slowly descending from all out rave party to a "where should I throw up" and "it's cool, I know I'm young but my last boyfriend was 21" party.
The result for us naive campers was a restless night. As the next day unfolded we ventured to the beach, encountering fresh tire tracks and avoiding the vampire-esque ravers as they escaped the suns harmful rays and B-lined it home. The morning was gorgeous, the water was warm and reviving, and the scenery even better than I had imagined. And then it rained - off and on - all day. So we left, cutting short our camping trip mostly out of fear, of what may happen after the sun went down.
We made it home by sunset and it was eerily quiet & dark (with the exception of moonlight) all night long. This prompts the question: why did we leave? Exhibit B:
