Bamboo Forest in a Rain Storm

There were a lot of things I loved about living in Hawai'i, but having the jungle in my backyard (a real jungle, instead of one fashioned out of concrete) was what I loved the most. 

Any time I felt stressed (90% of the time; you're always broke in Hawai'i), I'd throw my gym bag in the car, and drive H1 across the island to Manoa, where the Na Ala Hele trail system has a whole grouping of different trailheads across the Ko'olau Range. Driving up the side of Mt. Tantalus was an experience in and of itself. Dozens and dozens of hairpin turns, folding back on themselves, shaded by these gigantic trees with flowering vines hanging down practically into the old road that zigzags up the mountainside. 

There are mansions dotting the mountainside, too. Some of them have some really interesting history associated with them. I found out after coming back to the mainland that one of the palatial Spanish-style houses near the Makiki Valley trailhead actually belonged to Ferdinand Marcos. He purchased it with money he stole after he was exiled from the Philippines. I walked by it probably a dozen times, and didn't know...

Not being able to climb mountains and wander aimlessly through bamboo forests has definitely had a less than stellar impact on my mental health; going to Red Rock or Lone Mountain isn't really the same, although I try to go fairly often. 

I actually got caught in a miniature cyclone while in one of those bamboo forests, witnessed a minor mudslide. Kinda thought I might die, but I didn't (obviously). I took some pictures before all hell broke loose.

I'm still not really sure I made the right choice moving back to the mainland, but...I'm stuck with it, so...you just try and make the best of it. 

Some days I'm more okay with it than others.