Walking Stories

Two Star-Bulletin reporters
embark on a journey to
rediscover pedal power

BEFORE the SUV, before the Model T, before the Conestoga wagon and before the horse, humans got around on foot.

Ancient trails attest to that. Along beaches, through lava fields, atop mountain ridges, paths remain where feet met earth time and again through the ages.

When humans moved under their own power, they were very much aware of the land and their surroundings. They knew where there were trees that beared fruit and when the fruit would be ripe. Locations of streams and rivers that would provide a drink on a long trek were memorized. Their eyes swept the ground before them for sharp rocks, holes and roots that could cause injury. They felt the wind and rain, the heat of the sun, the chill of mountain air.

In this modern age, few of us gather this awareness. We transport ourselves in vehicular pods that segregate us from the space through which we move so rapidly. Cars create a separate atmosphere, one that's cushioned and air conditioned, that disguises outside sounds with the electronic noise of radio, tape decks and CDs.

Cars, airplanes, even bicycles, change the way we view time and distance. So time -- or lack of it -- also sets us apart. We fast-pace ourselves from one place to the next, our eyes watching the car in front, the traffic signals, the rear view mirror.

It is no wonder, then, that humans find themselves alienated one from the other. People who would not step in front of someone else while strolling through the mall do not hesitate to weave their cars inches in front of another, horns blaring all the way. Vehicles make us anonymous; the car becomes the focus, not the human behind the wheel.

Moving about on foot isn't effortless; there's sweat involved. But the reward is genuine pleasure. You feel the caress of a breeze, breathe the scent of plumeria blooming and catch the rustle of leaves. You see your neighbors and trade a wave or talk story. You discover an awareness of yourself and how you fit into surroundings. And you get some exercise.

All of this said, we're ready to put our money where our mouth is -- or a least our feet. Star-Bulletin reporters Tim Ryan and Cynthia Oi embark on what we're calling Walking Stories, a trek that will take us around the island on foot. We'll hike the coastline of Oahu and tell stories about people, places and events we encounter.

We began Walking Stories yesterday, starting from the News Building at the corner of South Street and Kapiolani Boulevard. We headed makai on South to Ala Moana then east through Waikiki to Diamond Head and along Kahala Avenue to Kalanianaole Highway to Wailupe Beach Park. In the following days, we'll be taking the Windward Coast, head to the North Shore and around Kaena Point. Next, we'll take in the Leeward Coast, then walk back to downtown Honolulu.

Every day, we'll provide accounts of our journey along with a map to show our progress. And we invite you to join us as we pass through your neck of the woods; we'll even give you an official Star-Bulletin lanyard.

Star-Bulletin
Concrete canyons and shimmering store windows
too often obscure the natural beauty of Hawaii along
Oahu's urban corridor.

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By Cynthia Oi
Star-Bulletin

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Day 1, corner of Kapiolani and South to Wailupe Beach Park, 11.7 miles

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Oahu has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, its mountain ranges are lush, scenic wonders. Unfortunately, through most of downtown Honolulu and the tourist mecca of Waikiki, neither are visible through the canyons of high-rise hotels and office buildings.

In the trek from the News Building to the suburban Waialae Iki-Wailupe, there are places that turn their backs on the fact that we live on an island surrounded by ocean. Ironically, it is where the ocean is most evident that people seem to gather.

Even before dawn, Ala Moana beach teems with islanders of all ages, swimming, walking, running, paddling or just sitting in the sand waiting for sunrise.

Lance Fukuda, a carpenter, is there for his five-day-a-week running and swimming routine. The 48-year-old with a buzz haircut and two silver hoops in each ear uses the two hours between the time he drops his girlfriend off at her job and the start of his work to "exercise to stay alive."

James Kalua and Joe DeSilva, both retirees, get to the beach before dawn, grind on the sandwiches Kalua makes -- it's egg today -- and go walking in the ocean.

"You cannot beat this," Kalua says, waving a hefty, tanned arm around to include sky, sand, sea and air. "People pay plenty of money for come to Hawaii. For us, it's free -- hah," he grins with pleasure.

Stanley Hironaka, also retired, has been coming to Ala Moana for 35 years and every day without fail, regardless of the weather, for the past five.

He pedals from his home in Kapahulu, bike loaded with poles and other fishing gear. "I love my fishing like before when I was younger I loved my women."

The statement belies his flirtatious nature, however. As a silver-haired woman in a pink hat walks by, he calls out, "Oh, there's my sweet lady." The sweet lady responds with a smile and greeting that show their familiarity.

Outside the park, over the Ala Wai bridge and past the boat harbor, the oceanscape disappears behind a hotel where a faux waterfall cascades down the front wall. The failed attempt to duplicate nature marks the start of two miles of buildings that shut out mountain and sea.

Those unfamiliar with the island geography would be puzzled by the hint of ocean as the sidewalks along the makai side of Kalakaua jag in and out to bring them next to shiny storefronts instead of the sea.

It is not until past the Moana Hotel that the white sand of the beach shows off its glittery beauty again. Judy and Jeff from Dallas wear big smiles as they stroll along the water's edge, bare feet tickled by the waves. They gaze past the Waikiki skyline to the Waianae Range, the mountains hazing in the sea mist.

Ahead, Diamond Head peeks through the branches of the trees in Kapiolani Park. At the top of Leahi, the ocean in the distance undulates through different shades of blue. The scenery, however, is marred up close by hundreds of paper and Styrofoam cups and plates, dirty paper napkins, disposable diapers and shattered surf boards. Plastic bags flutter from kiawe branches covered with grime from thousands of cars that shoot up the road broaching the hillside.

As the road descends Diamond Head, the sea is lost once more. Opulent homes, many with names and elaborately decorated security gates, shut off the view. It remains that way until Waialae beach park, a small swath of public green and beach at the end of Kahala Avenue.

A hotel and country club shoulder between the ocean and Kalanianaole Highway, a thoroughfare made for mainly motorized vehicles, leaving only a narrow pathway for pedestrians and bicyclers to share.

There is no hint of beauty here. Even the sea air is masked by the fumes from the speeding cars. The ridges of the Koolaus are creased and jammed with houses from which ocean views must be spectacular but the price is their ugliness when viewed from the ocean.

Then a surprise: the small, pristine Wailupe beach park. The grounds are immaculate, the trees well tended, the facilities -- water fountain, wash basin, restrooms -- scrubbed clean.

Here, Albert "Bucky" Kinin is weaving a new lobster net for a friend while Masa Yahata watches. At water's edge, Kinin's cousin, Wayne Green, peers through a telescope, checking out the reef and the far horizon on the sea.

The men and their friends have adopted the park. They planted the coconut and milo trees and the puakenikeni there, mostly in memory of late park denizens.

They come almost every day to net fish, catch tako and generally hang out and talk story.

"Yeah, this like our park," Kinin says in a gravelly voice. "Sometimes, other fishermen -- they clean the fish and leave all the bones and the guts on the grass," he says shaking his head. "But we come, we pick 'em all up, throw 'em away."

"Sometimes some guys come down late at night, kids you know. They party up, throw the cans around ... so we clean 'em up, too."

He points to the different trees and recites the names of those they are dedicated to. The trees and plants and ocean tie him to them forever, he says.

"I look at the trees, think of them, the times we went fishing over here. That's how we remember -- the good times -- here, this beach."

Walking tips

Before starting a walking routine, check with your doctor and discuss your plans.

Find the right shoe for your body type. If you're heavy, you may need more support at the soles and ankles. Make sure your shoes fit properly; if they pinch at little when you're trying them on at the store, they pinch big time on the road.

Wear the right socks, ones that breathe and don't cause your feet to slide around in the shoe. You may have to try several types before you find the right one. On longer walks, sock liners keep your feet cool and can help prevent abrasion that can cause blisters.

Find shorts or pants and tops that are comfortable and in keeping with the climate in the area where you walk. If it rains a lot there, wear clothing that keeps in body heat while wicking away water, and light-weight rain gear. If you are sensitive to cold, get a jacket. Buy light-colored clothing so you are easily visible.

Designate a time of day for your walk and stick to it. Evenings and early mornings are cooler, and there is less traffic to contend with near dawn.

Work out your routes. Establish two or three of differing lengths and difficulty. Walking one route one day and another the next keeps you from getting bored. Mixing it up also doesn't put you at the same place every day, which could make you a target for criminal types.

Watch where you're going. Sidewalks and roadways in older Honolulu neighborhoods can be treacherous for a walker. Cracks, uneven pavement and potholes abound; the metal coverings on water meters are slippery when wet; some curbs are slanted or crumbling.

Be careful of cars. Try to walk against the traffic so you can see the cars coming. At intersections, give yourself lots of time to cross the street. Even though you have the light, be aware of approaching cars; sometimes drivers don't pay attention. When crossing an intersection, look behind you. Turning motorists may not see you. Don't jaywalk. Be careful at driveways.

If your route takes you from home and back in an hour or less, you may not need to carry water. If you're walking longer, you should bring water with you. If you're taking a midday trek, bring water.

If you walk after sun up or before sundown, wear sunscreen.

After your walk, stretch. Stretching keeps you limber, prevents injury and reduces muscle soreness. Check with a sports physician or go to a bookstore or the library to read up on these exercises. Stretching feels great after exercise.