No Regrets!

As our trip draws to a close, yesterday was spent reminiscing about trip highlights and celebrating our friendship over drinks in the hot tub. It took a while for us to figure it out, but pouring our off-property alcohol into aluminum resort water bottles is sure a lot better than drinking $25 poolside cocktails all day long.

I spent some quality time catching up on my blogging in the cabana. Blogging this trip became an interactive experience, with Dave and Scott listening to the daily entries and filling in details I may have missed. Dave even started keeping a companion blog. My blog captures the larger experience and is made for public consumption, but Dave’s private blog captures some of the debauchery and his passions for giant waves and great food.

Some rain blew in over the course of the afternoon, but we were covered. Cabana for the win. The rain cleared just in time for sunset, but as we watched from the hot tub, everyone agreed that it was the most disappointing sunset of our trip. We chatted with a newlywed couple from Tennessee on their honeymoon. When the wife learned that I was keeping a blog, she urged me to get on TikTok, trying her hardest to convince me I could become a big TikTok star by making video clips of what I am doing in Hawaii. I was skeptical. Why would anyone give a shit about what I’m doing in Hawaii? No one even reads my blog.

For our farewell dinner, we donned our matching Duke Kahanamoku aloha shirts and headed back to Roy’s Beach House. A bottle of wine was consumed, laughs were laughed, souvenir coasters were stolen, and it was a delicious meal, as always. You can always count on Roy’s. We also started thinking about where our next trip might be, since it turns out we all really enjoy traveling together. Japan? Italy? Greece? Spain? Croatia? So many good options. The only requirement is that the next place we visit needs to be a little more social than Hawaii.

After dinner, I was good to keep going, but Dave started to peter out. Maybe all of the activity and excitement of the last 12 days had taken its toll. We went up to his room to sit on the balcony and listen to some music for a bit before calling it a relatively early night.

This morning, Dave woke up with a full-blown case of Hawaii-itis that had him feeling a bit run-down. We packed our bags and headed down to the lobby to check out. Sad times. We hopped into our car for soulful goodbyes to a couple of our favorite beaches. Waimea Bay was like glass. Pipeline had baby waves and about 30 surfers bobbing up and down, patiently waiting for something surfable. We felt lucky to have visited on days when the waves were truly crashing.

From there, we headed clockwise down Oahu’s east coast. This was a part of the island we hadn’t seen before, and we found it to be ruggedly beautiful, with impressive and massive green mountains to the right and beach after beach to the left. It’s probably not too far off from the natural beauty that we missed on Kauai’s north shore when our helicopter tour was cancelled. The further along the road we went, the more traffic lights, strip malls, residential neighborhoods, and small towns we saw.

We pulled off the road and parked for a quick hike up the Crouching Lion Trail. Because we had been advised not to leave our unattended car as a target for local smash-and-grab hooligans, because Dave was feeling a bit under the weather, and because of Dave’s debilitating fear of heights, Dave stayed behind to watch the car while Scott and I did the hike. The signs say that the trail is closed, but it’s not blocked off, so Scott and I forged ahead. We scrambled up the very steep and slippery trail, a tangle of branches and roots and rocks and mud. We needed to grab onto branches and rocks whenever we could for support. It became obvious why the trail is closed: it’s not maintained, and it’s very dangerous.

Finally, we made it. There were a few more steps to take to a rocky outcropping at the very top, but Scott and I were content to stop at the viewpoint. The view across Kahana Bay was magnificent, especially when the sun came out. Every slippery step was worth it.

The way down was even more treacherous, but somehow, Scott and I were able to make it down without eating shit. Including time to rest and enjoy the views at the top, the entire round-trip hike took about an hour.

Then a quick stop at nearby Kaaawa Beach, a thin strip of sand that opens up at one end for a nice view of the lava rocks on the beach in the foreground and mountains in the background.

And then one more stop, our final beach in Hawaii. Waimanalo Beach is a beautifully open expanse of turquoise water, though sadly marred by a disconcerting amount of white and blue plastic debris washed up on the sand. Giant green mountains towered over the beach behind us. We took this moment to throw my giant novelty frisbee, a hopeless and comical effort against the stiff breeze coming off the ocean.

For lunch, we stopped at the highly rated Kalapawai Cafe & Deli. We were all craving a club sandwich and ordered one, and we were all confused and disappointed when it was served and didn’t come with bacon. It was basically a turkey sandwich, but it was fresh and delicious and a welcome change from the heavy resort food we have been sustaining ourselves on for the last few days.

Then back in the car for the rest of our drive along the coast. Parts of the drive have a PCH feel, with elevated road and guardrails edging along a rugged coastline. From Haleiwa all the way around to Pearl Harbor, we’ve almost circled the entire island.

We cleaned up our sandy rental car and made it to the airport right on schedule. Just before heading inside, almost as if it were a sign from above, we were greeted to a beautiful rainbow that served as the perfect backdrop for our final group picture.

We checked in, dropped our bags, and headed to security. Scott neglected to add his known traveler number to his reservation, so he was denied TSA PreCheck and directed to go through security with the regular people while Dave and I were waved through. Scott’s carelessness would turn out to be consequential.

As soon as we got in the security line, I saw the man in front of us and did a double take. I was 99% sure it was baseball legend and all-time home run leader Barry Bonds. I nudged Dave and asked him to confirm, but he wasn’t convinced until we noticed a few telling details: his build, the scars on his elbow, a glimpse of his ID with the letters “BON,” and a quick chat with the TSA agent which ended with “Have a good flight to San Francisco.” Hearing Bonds’ familiar voice in the conversation sealed the deal.

I wanted to talk to him, to say, “Hey Mr. Bonds, I’m a big fan.” Something. But I was scared. He had a scowl. Nothing about him felt approachable. And I didn’t want to cause a scene standing in security. Last thing I needed was any kind of altercation or raised voices in security. If things went sideways, it would definitely be bad news for me. If we were standing in line at Starbucks, if there were no security and a bit more ambient noise, maybe I would have said something. But not here.

After getting through security, Bonds seemed lost and lingered for a bit. As he walked away, I snapped a quick photo.

We collected Scott and excitedly told him about our close encounter, as he had missed the entire experience. By this time, Bonds had disappeared, but we scanned the information screens to figure out which gate Bonds was most likely departing from and came to the group decision to spot him again. There was an early flight departing from gate G6 and a later flight departing from gate E2, both at opposite ends of the terminal. The three of us devised a plan that would take us to gate G6 to look for him. If he was not there, Scott and Dave would use their fancy tickets to visit the nearby Delta Club lounge to see if he was there while I went ahead to check gate E2. This was the most efficient way to do this. We put our plan into action, but we could not find Bonds.

Regardless, the three of us had a good laugh about the Barry Bonds encounter. What are the odds that, of all the baseball players in history, the one we bump into at the airport is arguably the best player in history? It would have been a funny story if it was another Nick Allen-level encounter, but it was Barry Bonds. Dave joked that we had encountered the “worst of the best” and the “best of the best” baseball players in the last few days. What a crazy finish to our trip.

It was outside the Delta Club lounge that we shared our final group hugs, fist bumps, and sad goodbyes. It was a bittersweet moment, tinged with the hope and excitement that we’ll be doing something like this again.

Scott and I left Dave and headed to our gate, again passing gate E2. We took a quick peek at the growing crowd of people getting ready to board, and there he was… Barry Bonds, sitting near the gate door with his head down and a woman next to him that he seemed to be with. No one seemed to be talking to him or even noticing him.

Again, I had the opportunity to approach Bonds, but again, I decided it was not a good idea. He looked pissed, and he has always had the reputation of being a not very nice person. Dave had a personal experience with Bonds when he was still a player that seems to have confirmed that. I also didn’t approach Bonds for the same reason I didn’t approach Claire Danes all those years back. Bonds looked like he was enjoying his privacy, and I didn’t want to be the one to stir up some attention and be responsible for an unwelcome rush of fans at the airport.

While I was busy ogling Barry Bonds, Scott said he would be right back and went to the bathroom. I waited. And waited. When I texted him to see how much longer he would be, he said he had already boarded the plan and was sitting comfortably in his first class seat. Classic Scott. All in all, a poetic and hilarious ending to what has been an amazing trip.

Now on our flight back home. The plane took off and headed out over the ocean, nothing to see out the right side of the plane. As we headed east, I saw Molokai and the mountaintops of Maui through the haze before entering the huge expanse of Pacific Ocean on our way back to the mainland. The sun set quickly behind us, casting a deep orange strip across the horizon before everything turned black. Dave is flying parallel to us somewhere in the distance on the way back to Florida.

The electrical outlet sucks, and it’s freezing again on this plane, but I used my brain this time and brought a sweatshirt. I’m going to try to get some sleep so I’m not completely wrecked when I get back home.

I’ve taken lot of trips with a lot of people, but this one was really something special. We were a perfect mix of personalities, enjoying each other’s company always with constant banter and humor, each of us trying to outfunny the other. We each had a role, and we each played it well. Scott was goofy and chatty with everyone (like a Golden Retriever) and was also our very safe driver and gym coach. Dave always had something biting to say (like a German Shepherd/Chihuahua mix) but was also generous and proud to share his passion for waves and good food with us. I was the organizer and scheduler and herder (like a Border Collie) but also the documentarian and photographer and Spotify trip playlist curator. Throughout the trip, Dave and I took turns being cynical and sarcastic and crude. Scott took a lot of abuse from us, but he took it like a champ and was always good-natured about it.

Not once did I get the sense that we needed to take breaks from each other, not once did one person want to do something that another did not. We were all accommodating and flexible, amazing qualities to have in travel partners. We learned more about each other in 12 days than we would have after 100 nights out at home. And I hope we get to travel together again soon.

And I think itinerary we settled on really made the most of our 12 days in Hawaii, with just the right balance of activity and relaxation. Not once did we feel like we were rushing, not once did we feel like we were wasting time. And somehow, our timing for excursions and sunsets and dinners and baseball players was impeccable. Really, our only misses were the canceled helicopter ride in Kauai and a Dole Whip from the Dole plantation on Oahu. Other than that, I think everything was perfect.

As with any amazing trip of considerable length, I return home with a soul soothed by equal parts escape, fun, laughs, discovery, and relaxation. Travel really is the best.