Winding Roads

It was the return trip on the road less traveled, from Hana back to Lahaina along the southern edge of the island. With hours of driving on this beautiful day, we moved from picturesque rolling hills above the ocean where a small chapel was nestled, to a rainbow over the Pacific, past a waterfall through which the road crossed, putting part of it above us and the rest falling below the other side of our open, yellow Jeep.

We finally rounded to southern portion of the island, to discover ourselves following a mountain road that twisted and winded over hilly, unusual terrain. It seemed desolate, yet there were a few other travelers braving the longer varied route.

It could have been a place of danger but we were too excited to think about our isolation or vulnerabilities. We were wide-eyed at the scenery that continued to amaze us. It seemed a good thing that it went on and on for a few hours, because it was new and interesting, we were together, and we didn't have anywhere else to be. To be present here, felt free and amazing, adventurous and blessed.

Every once in awhile we topped a hill and caught a glimpse of the road before us, with it's unusual personality of herky turns and jerky ups and down. It was fairly skinny and meandered roughly through prickly looking shrubbery. There were few resources on this part of the journey, so it required preparation and forethought. It's wasn't exactly the kind of place you could, say, run out of gas.

With it's character, the land and roadway captured our full attention. Speeding was not an option because all that was ahead was unseen and unknown to us. We had read about the route, mapped it out, and basically done any prep-work we thought necessary to make the drive. Even so, one can only prepare so much for the unknown.

Whenever we would reach a high place and I could see a bit more, I couldn't help but think that the road looked like the way we travel through life, a twisty adventure into the unknown. It's not like I can look up and see the future—or really any of the delights, sorrows, losses, problems, or wonders to be encountered along the way. Sure, they can be described by someone else on a piece of paper or even studied in a photo and on a map. But every trip is as unique as the weather, time of year or day, means of travel, company along for the ride, wildlife around, and unforeseen circumstances. It's a pretty individual experience.

And, at some point you have to make a firm decision that you are going to take the less traveled route, with fewer helpers to encounter and less built-in support. But if you don't head out that way, you will see what you already saw coming over and you will see what most people get to see. Does that matter to you?

It matters to me.

I want to see—truly see, what other people might pass by without taking notice. Embracing adventure without seeing how everything will roll along can be fun and exciting, but even more it can open windows and doors into things that otherwise would not be apparent or possible. And every once in awhile you might get to a vantage point where you get to see a little ways down the road, which can be encouraging and intimidating all at the same time. It can provide a glimpse of the degree of attention needed for what is to come. Even more, it just might show you that you aren't alone on the road. Others aren't as far away as it seems from those low lying places you descend into, that can convince you you're alone. Take heart. Learn from what you glimpse. Take it all in from each vantage point. It is possible this will be the only pass by this amazing way.