Ritual in Paradise: Stairs to Freedom
There is a place I love to go on the island I now call home. It is a mountain peak overlooking the ocean. But it is not the view from the top that keeps me coming back, it is the journey to get there. I live in the Hawaiian Islands, a place of sand, sun, and waves. My home is known for its gorgeous beaches; however, some people do not know about the vibrant mountains which sprinkle the Hawaiian landscape. Along the southern shore of Oahu, on the eastern side of Maunalua Bay, Koko Head can be seen for miles.
Koko Head is a mountain formed over 10,000 years ago, created by the remnants of Volcanic ash from the eruptions on the Koolau Range. It holds a history beyond the violent eruptions into WWII when an electric tram was created by the US Army to move military supplies up the steep mountainside to the radar station at the peak. Long after the war ended, the railroad ties remained. Now Koko Head Trail is a tourist attraction for many when coming to the island. For me and other hiking enthusiasts, it is a part of our weekly workout ritual.
The railroad ties create over 1,000 stairs up to the peak. It is the hiker’s choice on how they will get to the top—walking, running, scrambling, crawling, or a combination of all. The ties are not evenly spaced, making the difficult 885 foot climb a bit trickier than first anticipated. The need for decent balance and agility as you ascend from one stair to the next increases towards the summit.
On any given day you can see families, couples, dogs, and even a few brave children hit the mountain. There is an unspoken rule once your foot strikes the first wooden railroad tie—you encourage all fellow hikers you meet. We are all on the journey, on the same mountain, together.
My favorite part of the climb is the escape from reality and sometimes time itself. I choose to tackle the stairs early in the morning, attempting to complete as many rounds up and down Koko Head Trail before the scorching sun gets too high in the sky.
I understand as I am writing this that people will be divided into two groups: those who think I’m psychotic, and those who think they want to give it a whirl. Let me tell you, there is nothing like losing yourself in the burn of your legs and the thud of your heartbeat as you push your body to the limit. In these moments, I find my thoughts, my inspiration, and the next great story.
Every author has their method to get out of their own head and discover where they need to take their characters next. For me, it’s about watching my sweat hit the dirt, feeling my breath sear my lungs, then going for one more step. One more round. Past the limits of what my body did last time.
At the peak, the view of the turquoise water meeting the cobalt blue of deeper ocean currents and the lush green land below is enough to free the soul. It washes away the past of what went well or what didn’t. The climb requires me to focus on nothing but each single moment of sweet air. Then back down, again, I go because the journey isn’t over. The decent takes just as much balance, strength, and endurance as the climb. Once my feet hit the last railroad tie, I tap the tree on the side of the trail—round one is done. Round two, up the stairs is here. And now, I can only focus on the next step, or I will stumble and fall.
This is my ritual. This is my freedom. A place where my body melts into the mountain and my mind soars into the sky, over the ocean, to a place even I don’t even know.
What is your weekly ritual that motivates you? Share with me your special place where you find freedom.
The peak of Koko Head with my friend, Rachel!
