"IT'S socked in up there," said the National Park ranger manning the toll booth at the entrance to Haleakala National Park. It was quarter to six, still dark, in the 40s, windy and not my favorite time of the day. In the House of the Sun
"What time do you come to work?" my sister-in-law asked as we forked over our $4 entrance fee and worried about the visibility.
"Sorry, m'am. I can't tell you that," he replied. His tone suggested this was a national security matter, for which we mere civilians did not have a need-to-know.
We'd dragged ourselves out of warm beds at 4:45 to make the drive from Kula, which is at 3,500 feet, to the summit, at just over 10,000. It was Amy's 30th birthday and my wife decided that going to Maui to view the sunrise over the crater was a perfect way for her to mark the dawn of the prime of life.
I've been there, but I hadn't done that.
A trip to Haleakala's summit is worth it any time of day, but I can now confirm that dawn is the best.
I won't try to describe it. Suffice it to say that the sky caught fire, the mist created moving pictures of stark and breathtaking beauty and it's the best four bucks I've spent in my life.
"Well, I'm glad it wasn't 'socked in,'" I said.
"I wasn't worried," Amy said. "I didn't listen to that guy.
"Heck, he doesn't even know when he comes to work!"
