Eddie Cheddar & the Rolling Stones of Waimea Canyon
How to pun your way through the Grand Canyon of Kauai
Each day in Kauai felt like three days in length, due to the 5am wake-up calls from the chickens who were up before the sun, and our body clocks which never quite adjusted to the time change. But mostly, it was due to how much we packed into the daylight hours.
After a full day of biking in Kapa’a and scaling Sleeping Giant, we were beat — so beat, that I was ready to pitch our tent literally anywhere and pass out until morning. But the camper and planner in Nick ensured that we made a pitstop at Walmart to stock up on some camping essentials that didn’t make sense to fly across the country with, and some groceries for breakfast the next morning and pb&j’s for the trail. Kyna and I washed our faces and applied night creams in the Walmart bathroom — one of many vaguely gross bonding experiences throughout the trip made sweet when shared.
By the time we got to the Salt Pond Park to set up camp, it was after 9pm and totally dark. Driving in, we noticed the grounds were also quite full. And because I had never been camping before, I was slow to realize that this wasn’t a good thing. Loud music blared through truck speakers in the parking lot, and groups around the campsite were keeping the party going into the night. Not exactly the ‘fall asleep under the stars to the sound of the Pacific Ocean’ vibe we were going for…
I helped the guys set up our tents in the dark on one of the few remaining free patches of land, by the lights of Nick’s headlamp and my cell phone flashlight. By the time we went to bed at 11pm, I felt like I had been awake for days, so despite the noise outside my tent, I was able to pass out until about 4am, when the chickens decided that it was time for all of the humans on their territory to start their days and move along.
Salt Pond may not have been the first-camping-experience of my dreams, but the early wakeup call meant a sunrise walk on the beach with Nick in my onesie flannel pajamas, which I wore a surprising amount during the trip.
Mitch and Nick whipped up breakfast burritos over a grill on the grounds and the percolator on the coals eventually warmed the water, and there was eventually coffee. Despite the lack of sleep, the day ahead of us now felt possible. We packed up our site, said goodbye to the chatty chickens and party people of Salt Pond, and headed West.
Our hiking destination for the day was the Canyon Trail to Waipoo Falls in Waimea Canyon. I have yet to experience Arizona’s Grand Canyon (one day!), but it was easy to see why Waimea is known as “The Grand Canyon of the Pacific”. In one short drive, we were transported from the beach to the desert, and the landscape sprawled around us, revealing an epic gorge of mountains; their tips and crevices of red clay dusted with patches of greenery and slivers rushing waterfalls like little ribbons in the distance.
On the way to the trail, we paid a $5 parking fee to stop by the touristy vista overlook and take in the views. Which was nice. We bought some fresh mangoes from a stand while waiting in line. Also nice. But we quickly moved on, eager to escape the clusters of tourists and get into our hike as noon approached. We had an itinerary to keep to, after all.
All Trails says the Waimea Canyon Trail is a mere 3.2 miles out and back, but in my memory, it is much longer. The trail took us in the depths of the canyon, winding up to one of the vast waterfalls we seen in the distance from the vista (pictured at the top left). All Trails also calls the hike moderate. In hindsight and with more experience, months later, I can agree, but on the day, as it was my third hike in Kauai and probably fifth hike ever, I will honestly say I found it challenging. Once again, a walking stick was a great help throughout, as the trail was a healthy mix of ups and downs. Despite the drier climate of the southwest section of the island, there was no shortage of mud and river crossings, and my feet were soaked and quickly dried multiple times. Balancing on wet rocks was tricky for my ankles so I often opted just to walk through the inches of water to get to the other side to keep up the pace.
I’ve noticed that mild delirium often sets in about an hour into a challenging hike, and this hike in Waimea Canyon was the first time I experienced it truly. It hits when you’re so deep in the trail that your concept of time and distance is off and you are just in it, one step in front of the other with no end in sight. And if you’re me and Nick, you find yourself playing a very annoying game. You pick two seemingly unrelated categories and you combine them with a pun. There are no other rules. There are no points. The winner will become clear. Nick selected: Food/restaurants as the first category, and musicians/bands as the second. We were off to the races, listing off puns one by one, Nick, thinking for a few minutes before sharing only his best ones (Taco Bell & Sebastian, Veal Diamond, Portugal. the Flan) and me, indiscriminately sharing the good, the bad, and the ugly of whatever my brain conjured (Katy Cherry, Outkast Steakhouse, Bob Barley, Cinnebon Iver, Jelly Clarkson, Bruce Stringbean… yeah….).
And so we prattled on, punning through inclines, declines, rocks, and rivers. Kyna caught on quickly and started sharing her own punderful mashups (Fiona Applebees was a standout), but Mitch was mostly silent. At first I thought he was annoyed (fair), but no, Mitch was thinking. And it paid off. Just when I thought the game was over, and Nick, Kyna, and myself had exhausted all possible combinations of food and music, Mitch uttered two words which blew all of our contenders for Best Pun out of the water: “Eddy Cheddar.” It took a second for the subtle, obvious brilliance to wash over us and then, laughter. Hands down, he was the champion.
And just like that, approximately 299 bad puns and 1 excellent pun later, we crawled up one particularly steep and narrow incline. The trail opened up and we were IN the heart of Waimea Canyon we had only glimpsed from the vista. The mountain peaks were now at eye level, like our trail had risen up under our feet to meet them.
As we continued on the views just got more and more spectacular. I felt like I didn’t want to close my eyes to blink. I wanted to memorize everything I was seeing, and feel this free and small and present forever.
It’s difficult to identify a singular moment when I thought “Yeah, this feels right, I want to hike as much as I can as long as I can,” but something clicked into place in Waimea Canyon and I felt the freedom of letting go of some insecurities that had been holding me back from experiencing this trip fully. I could no longer access the doubt that plagued me when we were in the planning stages of this trip. The fears about whether or not I would be physically capable of the hikes Nick wanted to do, and most importantly, if I would enjoy it. There was no doubt that this was the most I had enjoyed anything in a really long time. I was joyfully amazed by the world around me in a way that made me feel young and kind of innocent. And it wasn’t over. The hike just kept getting better.
Because after the clearing, there was the waterfall — the one we had seen from the vista. We were next to it, and then we SWAM in it… well, the guys did. I took a quick dip and perched on a rock, and Kyna captured the moment through her camera. I tried to capture it in my memory, because soon we would have to head back the way we came and drive to our next destination. After all, we had a sunset to catch.
