Back in Paia, Hawaii eating just-caught ono

By Rachel Levin, Sunset senior editor

I was on Maui a few weeks ago. We were supposed to be in Punta Mita, Mexico, but then the swine flu hit and with three six-month-old babies in our group we, uh, decided not to risk it. So an oceanfront condo in sprawling Kapalua Bay it was! At a rock-bottom rate to boot. Not too shabby for a last-minute Plan B. (Ah, the brightside of a bad economy!)

Anyway, my favorite thing we did all week (beside sip freshly-muddled grapefruit mojitos at the Ritz-Carlton’s J.T. Fleming Beach) was a daytrip to the little surfer-hippie town of Paia.

Here, the Top Five things I love about Paia:

1.    The locals beach. About a mile or so from town, where the scene is quirky, the coconuts fall, and the waves are fierce—and where I was absolutely mesmerized watching these skinny 10-year-old boys absolutely kill it on the boogie board. I mean, we’re talking headstands. (What did I grow up doing after school? Wandering the mall. Depressing.)

2.    The grocery store. Mana Foods. It’s right there on the main drag, with its creaky wooden floors, commitment to all-organic-local everything, and the smiley, supertanned, slooowly-moving locals who were wearing more faded, fringed, acid-washed jean shorts than I’ve seen since said mall.

3.    The pizza To be honest, we didn’t actually eat here (we had other dinner plans, see Reason #4 below), but I just love pizza— and I love that this town has an American Flatbread Pizza. Vermont; Los Alamos, California; Paia. Who knew?


4.    Mama’s Fish House. Yeah, yeah, I know. This is not the locals hangout and wildly popular among toursits—not to mention wildly expensive—, but I don’t care. I  loved my meal (ono “caught by Alan Cadiz trolling off the cliffs near Molokai); I loved the on-the-ball service (only with-it waiters we met all week—yes, even poolside at the Ritz); I loved the Hawaii kitsch (I mean traditional Hawaiian décor); and I loved, loved, loved the way the restaurant’s open-air windows framed the picturesque, pristine beach just steps away for an after-dinner stroll.

Skip dessert at Mama's and hit Ono Gelato Company back in town, for seasonal scoops of kula strawberry or pineapple, made with local fruit—of course.

5.    The new Paia Inn. No pool, no pampering. Just five rooms and access to a little private beach. Still, next trip, I want to stay here.

Hiking Half Dome in Yosemite—that's right, the cables are up

By Amy Anderson, Sunset editorial intern

Growing up, my family never took trips to the beach. I’ve yet to visit Hawaii or Mexico, and I’m pale year round. Instead, we were all about the National Parks: road trips to Yellowstone and the Tetons, camping, kayaking, hiking.

But surprisingly, I’d never been to Yosemite. Until last weekend, when my dad (fellow hiker and adventurer extraordinaire) and I left San Francisco on Friday night and woke up Saturday morning in our canvas cabin in Curry Village — surrounded by granite walls and massive trees.

Committed to conquering the hardest possible hike everywhere we go, naturally my dad and I chose to hike Half Dome, 8,800 feet above sea level. Here's the iconic image that Ansel Adams captured in his photographs:

Daunting? I agree.

For a little inspiration, here's our Half Dome experience:

We were on the trail by 6:30 am, along with all the other early bird hikers trying to beat the heat and crowds. Our backpacks were filled with water bottles, Gatorade, and power bars to last us the projected 10-12 hours of the hike.

We took Happy Isles trail to the Mist Trail, excited to see the rushing waterfalls that spring in Yosemite is known for.

Note: the name Mist Trail is quite misleading at this time of the year. It should definitely be renamed Downpour Trail. As we climbed slick stair after steep stair to get to the top of Vernal Fall, it was like we were in the middle of a storm— we came out completely drenched.

I was not pleased.

Nearing the top and practically in tears, I told my dad that I couldn’t do it. We'd only gone a mile-and-a- half, but, already, I was fed up. But Yosemite's climate is tricky—if I turned back, I would have to go right through the downpour again. If I kept going, I would dry off in the sun. So I swore at the waterfall under my breath, wiped off my wet camera, and continued.

By 11:00am, we were at Half Dome, staring up at the cables that would take us to the very top. The last 400 feet are traversed by walking nearly vertically up the rock face, gripping wire cables on either side. There’s nothing to strap you in—you just hold on for dear life and pull your way up.

The cables were just put up for the season the day before we arrived. (Depending on the weather, you can expect them to go up around the third weekend in May each year.)

Nine hours after we started on Happy Isles Trail, we were back down to the trailhead, hobbling and groaning, but proud. Already planning which mountain to climb next.

Yosemite National Park: $20 entrance fee; www.nps.gov/yose

by Stephanie Kinnear, Sunset web producer

Last weekend, while laying out by the pool at the new Ace Hotel & Swim Club in Palm Springs, I had a thought: I might not be hip enough for this place. A blonde server swooshed by my lounge chair on a skateboard and delivered a burger to a brunette about 20 feet away. Most people in the pool were wearing oversized sunglasses and sipping cocktails. A few small dogs—small enough to fit in a purse—lounged in the shade near their owners.

By Trina Enriquez, Sunset copy editor

The Pacific Northwest Ballet in Seattle is hosting its last $5 Fridays event of the '08–'09 season this Friday, May 22, from 6 to 7 p.m. A dance preview orchestrated by PNB artistic director Peter Boal and put on in one of the Phelps Center's practice studios, the series features excerpts from the current program, except that dancers perform in practice gear and Boal precedes and follows up each excerpt with comments, then a Q&A. Very intimate, pretty informal, and über-cool for anyone who’s interested in the ballet but maybe a little intimidated by their lack of experience with or technical knowledge of it.

Artistic director Peter Boal and young audience members watch
PNB principal dancers Louise Nadeau and Jeffrey Stanton
at the PNB's $5 Friday Swan Lake studio rehearsal.
© Angela Sterling; photo courtesy of the Pacific Northwest Ballet.

This particular Friday's event is Director's Choice, featuring parts of Dances at a Gathering (with music by Chopin and choreography by Jerome Robbins) and After the Rain (a pas de deux choreographed by Christopher Wheeldon and set to Arvo Pärt's music). It’s a fun way to gain some insight on what goes into creating the slick, tricked-out performances onstage.

Order tix online or by phone (206/441-2424) to secure a spot in the general seating; otherwise you may nab tickets at the box office (301 Mercer St., Seattle). If you miss this $5 Friday, tune in later to the PNB's $5 Friday info page for more on the '09–'10 season.

Make a night (or a weekend) of it

Head for La Dolce Vita, about a mile away from the Phelps Center, after the show ends at 7 p.m. The cozy restaurant opens at 5 p.m., which would make it a tight squeeze for a pre-show bite, but it takes reservations until 10:30. One glance at the dinner menu will have your mouth watering: salsiccia e vongole (housemade sausage and fresh Manila clams in a tomato–white wine sauce) and tagliatelle alla Dolce Vita (fresh pasta with English peas, locally foraged spring mushrooms, pine nuts, and blue cheese), for starters. 

Photo courtesy of La Dolce Vita Ristorante Italiano.

For sleeps, look no further than the Alexis Hotel, featured in Sunset's March '09 issue. Sure, it's a little pricier than what you just spent at the ballet—but it is, as we billed it, "a downtown getaway that lets you curl up with a good book and get out exploring the city." Retrace the story and savor a weekend of culture and learning and eats and words.

Order the mushroom frittata or hot Dungeness crab on brioche
for brunch at the Alexis Hotel's Library Bistro & Bookstore Bar, and have books
within arm's reach while you wait. Photo by John Clark.

by Anna Nordberg, Sunset's Special Projects Editor

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas ... once again
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The greenest house in Big Sur

Rethinking what a green home means in Big Sur, California
PHOTO: The Wall Street Journal

By Margaret Sloan, Sunset  production coordinator

When we named Team Bee’s new queen Califia, our team leader Kimberley suddenly remembered going to Queen Califia’s Magical Circle in Escondido, telling me, “I was in awe the first time I visited the garden.”

When I saw the photos, I understood why. Created by internationally known artist Niki de Saint Phalle on land donated by the city of Escondido, this sculpture garden sparkles with colors so bright you want to taste them. Saint Phalle designed the garden to reflect the history of California and its many cultures and she named it after the legendary Queen Califia, ruler of the mystical island of California.

The sculptures are fantastical; they could be from a mythical land—one where glittering snake mazes enclose totems covered with mosaics of mirrors, glass, stones, and ceramic tile. It’s a garden you’ll want to visit again and again, according to Kimberley. “The level of detail and vibrancy is spectacular and I immediately understood why my mother visits every chance she gets.”

In Kit Carson Park
3333 Bear Valley Parkway, Escondido
Open Tuesday through Sunday from 8:30 a.m. to sunset

 

by MacKenzie Geidt, Sunset assistant travel editor

Was anyone else out there obsessed with ISLAND OF THE BLUE DOLPHINS as a kid?  You know which one I'm talking about...the Native American girl marooned on one of the Channel Islands? Written by Scott O'Dell in 1960 and especially popular with 13-year old girls?  This cover look familiar?

Yeah, well I was. I wanted NOTHING more than to be marooned on an island (all alone! or at least without my seriously annoying younger brother and sister) to become the female version of Robinson Crusoe (Would that be Robin Crusoe? Anyway, I also loved Swiss Family Robinson, so you catch the castaway theme I was into...)

I finally got to live my dream this weekend (or probably about as close as I'm gonna get to it).  Technically I wasn't marooned, and I didn't get to use a spear, but I finally got to visit one of the mythical Channel Islands...I took an Island Packers ferry from Ventura Harbor and made the hour+ trip to Santa Cruz Island—the largest of the 5 islands in the national park—for an Aquasports kayak trip to explore the sea caves and the island perimeter.

Definitely got a tad nauseous on the trip across the water, but seeing HUNDREDS of dolphins riding in the ferry's wake made up for the churning stomach. And once I was on the kayak, I was transformed into the main character Karana (if Karana ever rode a yellow tandem banana boat and wore SPF 85, which I doubt she had to do. That's me furthest back in the light blue anorak.)

Here's one of us heading into one of the awesome sea caves (excuse the drip on the camera lens, but action shots can get messy...)

And here's Tony, our guide—the closest thing to Robinson Crusoe that I've yet to come upon...

There's no commercial development on the island, so the brand new visitor center on Santa Cruz is big news.  It just opened last month, and it's got exhibits that teach you all about the island's Chumash Indian history, it's cattle and sheep ranching days in the 1800s, how the island's eagles were repopulated, etc. (Did you know that they grew Zinfandel grapes on the island during the ranch days?!) Definitely worth checking out on your next visit.  And if you can't get there anytime soon, you can at least watch the live eagle cam!

The Channel Islands had a lot to live up to (competing with images from a favorite childhood book is tough), but Santa Cruz Island actually exceeded my expectations.  Sea caves, dolphins, whale sightings, crystal clear water...it really was my island of the blue dolphins....

by Anna Nordberg, Sunset's special projects editor

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by Elizabeth Jardina, Sunset researcher

On the very western edge of Hawaii's westernmost island, you'll find a plush, 3-mile-long strip of golden sand.

Kauai's Polihale State Park reopened weekend before last. Heavy rains closed it in December, and stuck by a budget crunch, the state department of land and natural resources said it didn't have the funds to repair the washed-out road.

That's where a group of dedicated island volunteers came in. In a few weeks, using donated materials and labor, the volunteers regraded the road and helped repair broken water fixtures, as well as cut back overgrown vegetation and removed trash.

Visiting Kauai last week, I hadn't planned to head out to Polihale until we were in the state building to get a permit to hike part of the legendary Kalalau Trail. Everyone else in the office was a local, getting a permit to camp at Polihale. It went on the to-do list.

It is true, I am no conoisseur of beaches; a smidge of melanoma on my left arm removed 10 years ago—a dark, malevolent comma—left me resigned to the reality of vacations coated with a ghostly smear of sunscreen.

Those people who go on beach vacations wearing ridiculously protective hats and excessively technical clothing, the kind with built-in SPF 45? Hi. That's me.

So at a truly magnificent beach like Polihale, I'm a teetotaler on a Wine Country getaway: aware that the vineyards are pretty, but without a true devotee's understanding.

On the other hand, if I were the sort of person who liked to, for example, lie on a beach, towel warmed by the sun, feeling the softness of fluffy sand under me, perhaps reading a trashy novel, conveniently adjacent to a cooler of frosty beverages, I'd head for Polihale posthaste.

Because, the other people at the beach that day were living the life: Tents set up on the sand, families gathered for afternoon picnics, kids splashing in the water. There's only one spot in Polihale where it's safe to swim, Queen's Pond, a tiny pocket of reef-protected aqua water, calm as a bathtub, surrounded by crashing waves.

For Hawaiians, the area is more than a spot for family beach fun. The cliffs on the far north end of the beach, three miles from Queen's Pond, were considered a jumping off point for spirits as they left the corporeal world. 

So, let's recap: soft golden sand, aqua water, sunshine nearly all the time, a laid-back attitude, a lack of tourists. Ready to go?

There's only one thing in your way: A dirt road, 3 miles and change, that snakes through the brush, till you take a left at the big monkeypod tree (I swear, these are the real directions). We did it in a rented convertible, which, while not recommended, did get us there with the car and ourselves unscathed.

Polihale State Park: Free, open daily, official website here.

PHOTO: The Los Angeles Times

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