Haleakala means "House of the Sun" in Hawaiian. Legend has it that the demigod Maui lassoed the sun at the summit, to forever slow its movement across the sky.
I drove from sea level to 10,000 feet in about an hour, following the switch-back road up the broad flank of the volcano toward its summit, passing small truck farms and homes set in the hillsides along the way.
For several miles I cruised through drizzly cattle ranchland until the road finally wound its way up above the clouds, into barren, dry parkland.
The landscape above the clouds seemed like a desert, mostly lava rock and random clumps of flowers and tiny plants. Here many rare and endangered plant species make their home, including the beautiful silversword, which grows only at these higher elevations on Haleakala here in Maui, and on Mauna Kea, on the Big Island of Hawaii.
I finally reached the summit, and looked down into the mighty crater. It looked more than a little bit like the surface of Mars. The air was chilly, and I nearly got blown off the mountain.
They say the island of Manhattan could fit inside the crater:
This way back down to earth:
I didn't have the time or the wardrobe to take a hike that day. But that just gives me another reason to come back.
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