Sulfur in the Morning

There are very few groceries that prompt me to get up in the morning and walk 2 miles to the nearest convenience store. Diet Dr. Pepper is one of them. I rolled out of bed this morning with a minor headache knocking on my temples (which was funny because Nick and I were the only ones who opted NOT to drink last night at the Lava Lounge) and stumbled into the bathroom one zombie step at a time. Braaainn-I mean, soddda, I need sooooda.

                I had already decided this morning was going to be devoted to photography but the caffeine headache and the twitchy eyes more or less decided my route. That being said, it wasn’t like there was nothing to see on the road to the KMC military base and its tiny holy grail of a mini mart- we had walked this path last night on the way to the Lounge and Matt had pointed out several trails that were worth exploring further. Yeah, see, I reasoned with myself, it’s not a total surrender to soda. There were things to see. Photos to take. Shit to explore. Yeah.

                I skulked out of the house with my camera before my room mates even really realized I was going somewhere and hit the road. The sun was up and the sky had opted to cooperate by settling into that brilliant, cloudless blue that is its default when it isn’t raining (which is the norm) or voggy (also a norm.) Kilauea smoked and smoldered to my left and I detoured for a couple of minutes to watch the plume escaping from the floor of the massive caldera. 

Kilauea continues to smolder in the morning sun while the great shield volcano, Mauna Loa, sits impassively in the background.

After ten more minutes of walking, the trail unceremoniously dumped me across from the visitor center. I opted to forgo the assembled tourists and instead, cut around the building and to the right. If I continued to walk straight, following the road, I would eventually reach KMC. But, as Matt had pointed out last night, and as the multitude of signs proclaimed, I was coming up on the entrance to the Sulfur Bank Trail. I don’t know what was more exciting- the word ‘sulfur’ or the numerous warning signs that covered the start of the loop.

Steam vents, earth cracks, AND cliffs? Oh, happy day!

Indeed, as I soon discovered, half the draw of the sulfur banks seemed to be not just the cool chemical/geological phenomenon taking place several feet from the trail, but the danger said area posed to the unwary tourist. I think this one took the cake:

It's actually quite a terrifying illustration in and of its own right, isn't it? Looking at this, you’d expect me to be picking my way through a veritable lava mine field, replete with a Mordor-esque sky in the background and man-devouring cracks ready to swallow half of me in one go. 

This is what Sulfur Banks actually looked like:

Kinda peaceful, actually, if you don't mind the smell of sulfur in the morning.

Cracks in the earth extend down to the magma in the Caldera. Gases, like sulfur, escape from these cracks and emerge from vents in the landscape where they stunt plant growth and color the rocks with mineral deposits.

I cruised around the Sulfur Banks, following a nice boardwalk of a trail, only to find that it dumped me back on the main road anyway. People in passing cars looked at me a little oddly as I hitched my backpack (still smelling a little like sulfur) and struck out on the (typically) cars-only road. I don't know about you, but this has to be one of the nicest commutes to a mini mart. Ever.

Oh don't mind me, guys. Just going shopping.