FOUR SNORKELS ABREAST, we flutter-kicked into the steely deep Pacific. A few hundred yards off Hawaii’s lava shoreline we had just seen a family of humpback whales and hoped for a closer encounter. My wife, Cindy, our kids, Clyde, 11, and Mason, eight, and I swam seaward, and as the reef dropped away, bubbly giggles broke the underwater silence. Our boys pointed excitedly at a leviathan silhouette in the depths, its cryptic singing echoing like a Moog synthesizer from outer space. Giddy from our brush with megafauna, we all bristled with what Hawaiians call “chicken skin.”

Big Dippers: The author and his sons snorkeling the Big Island’s Kohala Coast

Clyde and Mason on a backyard snorkeling expedition near Puako

Hiking Kekaha Kai State Park

Parents holding vigil while the kids hit the surf on Mahai’ulu beach

School’s out!

You could say that collecting memories like this has become our family’s quest, and that’s why 18 months ago we mothballed our perfectly good Montana lives and headed to Hawaii for an extended vacation. Since no amount of time off seems to satisfy our unquenchable thirst for travel and adventure, we took a one-year sabbatical (which morphed into a second year), anticipating that each day could hold the opportunity for a “vacation moment.” Our swim with the largest animals on earth, for instance, occurred on an otherwise normal weekday afternoon—after work, school, and homework were done.


It was my parents who instilled this spirit in me some 34 years ago. I was nine years old in 1967 when we deplaned in the islands to the aromatic seduction of plumeria and yellow ginger blossoms and a two-year stint on Oahu. Captain Dad—a doctor in the Army—and miniskirted Mom were also bold enough to cart me and my two towheaded brothers to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island for a week, and something about seeing a steaming volcano changed me forever.


Back on the Big Island again to focus on my own family before our kids become distracted, omigod teenagers, Cindy and I are eager to mix the soup of our cultural experience and to relive a little childhood ourselves. The kids have embraced the tropics like Polynesian transplants, and I’ve been surfing my middle-aged brains out.

Perhaps we’re just maniacal haoles, but many of our local friends say that we’ve done more on this island in one year than they’ve done here in their entire lives. Maybe they’re right, because we have already explored jungly trails, snorkeled animated reefs, scrambled to 1,000-foot waterfalls, lounged on white-, black-, and green-sand beaches, mountain biked singletrack through sugarcane, hiked to thin-aired volcano summits, bathed in nippy queen’s baths (pooled cold springs in the lava fields), and surfed a few secret spots. The list goes on, and it’s clear we’ve been motivated by life on Hawaii in a compressed time frame, knowing that someday we’ll return to reality.


The Big Island seems to us to be a tropical Montana, with its rural, ranging, big-sky feel. We also love the biological diversity—11 of the world’s 13 climate zones. Because the trade winds and curvaceous topography form a rain shadow, the Eden-like eastern side is deluged with rain; the western side is perennially sunny. We’re drawn to the beaches as much as the 13,796-foot, snow-covered summit of Mauna Kea. In the Puna District, on the east side, there’s even a spot where Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of the volcano, oozes orange lava into the sea. The Pu’u ‘O’o volcanic vent, which has been erupting since 1983, has birthed more than 544 acres of new land.


On our first trip to the area we saw this river of lava gushing into the sea. We’d hit the road right after school, and it was late afternoon when we arrived at the village of Kalapana, which was mostly demolished by lava in the 1980s. We parked where the road disappeared under a massive mound of shiny black pahoehoe lava and ditched our flip-flops for hiking boots. It was creepy to hike on the crusted lava, magma flowing just below the surface and heat radiating up through our soles. Our evening arrival allowed us to see the glowing red lava pulsing in the twilight. It was like staring into the center of God’s campfire, and we stood transfixed by the power of Pele. The next day, across from the head of the Kilauea Iki Trail, which takes you into the crater and spurs off Crater Rim Drive, we ducked into Thurston Lava Tube, a 450-foot tunnel. The boys and I pretended to surf the humongous black wave, and for a scare we explored the Thurston “extension.” Turning off our headlamps in a pitch-black cave was good for a little chicken skin.

A trip to see the lava may require a drive and some preparation, but outings to the beach should require nothing but impulse. That is why we’ve been quasi- camping in an 800-square-foot bungalow across the street from the Pacific. In fact, as I write this, a pounding winter swell shakes my chair. There isn’t a day when the kids don’t explore the tide pools across the street, go dinghy sailing, paddle our sea kayaks, or surf.


After hundreds of hours logged in the ocean, Clyde paddles out with an arched back and a gleam in his eyes. Whether stroking into overhead Hapuna Beach wedges on his bodyboard or paddling a longboard through the breakers at the Kawaihae Breakwall, four miles from home, the kid has developed style. On weekends we lash our boards atop our tattered Isuzu Trooper and head to Kohanaiki, a few miles north of Kailua. A spot where surfing families gather, Kohanaiki even sees grandmas paddle out. On our best days we’ve scored a family wave or two, harmonic convergences where all four of us ride the same wave, weaving around one another and grinning like fiends.


Experiences like these have woven Hawaii into our bones, but no one has embraced our time here more than Mason. He isn’t at all shy about wearing his malo (Hawaiian-style loincloth) in public and has even taken to planting wauke in our backyard so he can make his own kapa cloth. He bellows Hawaiian chants and pounds his own poi from taro root, which he’s growing on our lanai. It was at Puukohola Heiau, a nearby stone temple built by King Kamehameha, that Mason first became fascinated with the old Hawaiian ways. Once a year, the community hosts a festival, and something about making a traditional nose flute and polishing it with kukui nut oil resonated with him. He’s a walking cultural exhibit, and we love it.


After a year and a half on the Big Island, Cindy and I have found life to be generally simpler than it was on the mainland. There’s less planning, less stuff, fewer commitments, and more time to laugh with each other. We’ve also been game for more bonding adventures. One morning we decided to sea kayak the Kealakekua Bay crossing from Napoopoo Beach Park to Captain Cook’s Monument—an easy, two-mile round-trip paddle. Mason and my brother Pete, who was visiting from Telluride, Colorado, were raring to go and pushed off first in the tandem. Cindy, looking for a moment of peace, slipped offshore while Clyde, a master at knots, tied his inner tube to the back of my boat and perched himself comfortably with his feet in the air. He commenced to give orders, guava juice in hand: “Get with it, Dad! Start paddling!”


Before climbing in, I stood surveying the scene, the sweet scent of plumeria flowers on the trade winds. Cindy and I made eye contact and shared an affirming smile. It was clear to us that our boys will never be the same, nor will we. I saw myself in those free-spirited little guys and was bowled over by a tsunami of déjà vu.

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TWICE AS LARGE as all the other Hawaiian islands put together, the Big Island requires a strategic plan. Spend part of your vacation based on the sunny Kona or Kohala coasts, splashing and snorkeling in the aquarium-like waters. Then spend your remaining time based around Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, where you can view flowing lava and explore rainforests. By establishing two separate base camps, you’ll get a sense for the island’s stunning diversity and avoid those wilting out-and-back days in the car.

Tiki at Pu’uhonua O Honaunau National Historical Park

ACTIVITIES Under a canopy of coconut palms and wood-carved tikis, Pu’uhonua O Honaunau National Historical Park ($5 per vehicle; 808-328-2288, ) is 182 acres of archaeological remains, including temple platforms and coastal village sites. Try your hand at making kapa cloth (pounded wauke bark) or paddling an outrigger canoe at the annual Hawaiian Cultural Festival in late June.

Paddle a sea kayak across calm, one-mile Kealakekua Bay from Captain Cook’s Monument, where the man himself landed in 1779 and where spinner dolphins like to play. Contact Kona Boys (808-328-1234, ) for rentals ($25 per single kayak per day) or guided day trips ($95 per person).

Plan to spend at least two full days in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park ($10 per vehicle; 808-985-6000, ). View the molten lava at the end of the Chain of Craters Road, then check out the stone fireplace in the Volcano House Hotel (808-967-7321), where the fire has been burning nonstop since 1874! Try the three-mile Kilauea Iki Trail, which will take you through a fern- and-ohia rainforest before dropping into the crater of Kilauea Iki.

Hawaiian Walkways ($95 per person, $75 for kids 8-12; 800-457-7759, ) offers guided day hikes along the rim of the remote Waipio Valley. Look for the Hawaiian hawk as you trek past bamboo orchids to a hidden, unnamed 40-foot waterfall and swimming hole.

Bodyboard or bodysurf the shore break at Hapuna Beach in South Kohala. Summer’s small waves are also ideal for skimboarding. Because day rates for rentals add up, pick up a boogie board at Costco in Kailua ($40; 808-334-0770), then spread aloha by giving your board to a local youngster before you leave the island.

FOOD Try the broiled mahi-mahi plate at Kona Mixed Plate (808-329-8104).

Get treated to table-side hula and passion-fruit tea at Bamboo Restaurant and Gallery (808-889-5555).

Kids love the chicken satay and parents the incendiary curries at Thai Thai (808-967-7969).

LODGING The 62-acre Hilton Waikoloa Village is on the sun-drenched Kohala coast ($200 per night, kids under 18 free; 866-223-6574, ). Kids can’t get enough of the 175-foot water slide, three swimming pools, and protected snorkeling lagoon at this oceanfront resort.

The Chalet Kilauea Collection ($49-$399 per double per night; $15 for kids under 16; 800-937-7786, ), in Volcano Village near Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, offers a range of accommodations, from six thrifty B&B-style rooms to four lodges to five vacation homes. Our favorite is the Ohia Hideaway Cottage, a one-bedroom cabin secluded in the rainforest.

Kauai

Kaui, answering charges of perfection

LESS DEVELOPED than Maui and Oahu and known as the Garden Isle for its abundant rainfall and lush flora, Kauai exudes a mellow vibe. If it’s surf you’re seeking, go to the north shore in winter and the south shore in summer. Hikers will groove on the views in Waimea Canyon.

ACTIVITIES Take surfing lessons from seven-time world champion Margo Oberg in the gentle peelers just off Poipu Beach at Kiahuna ($96 for a 90-minute private lesson, $48 per person for groups; Margo Oberg’s School of Surfing, 808-742-8019, ).

Hike the 6.5-mile Awaawapuhi Trail in Waimea Canyon State Park (808-274-3444, ).

Sea kayak the mangrove-banked, fern-shrouded Wailua River with Wailua Kayak ºÚÁϳԹÏÍøs (rentals, $25; $85 for a five-hour hiking and kayaking tour; 808-822-5795, ).

FOOD Try the coconut shrimp in a Thai chile plum sauce at Zelo’s Beach House (808-826-9700, ).

Duane’s Ono-Char Burger (808-822-9181) is known for its Local Boy: a teriyaki burger with cheddar and pineapple. LODGING Hanalei Colony Resort ($215 per night for up to four people; 800-628-3004, ) on the verdant north shore has 48 two-bedroom beachfront condos.

At Hyatt Regency Kauai’s Camp Hyatt, kids ages three to 12 learn hula and lei-making ($395 per night; Camp Hyatt, $55 per day; 808-742-1234, ).

Oahu

Running with the waves, Hawaii style

The most populated of all the Hawaiian Islands, Oahu also offers the most extensive to-do list. Waikiki Beach is nonstop stimulation, while the North Shore’s Haleiwa is all about the hammock and, in winter, world-class surfing. Locals refer to this mix as “town and country,” and no matter where you are on the island, a short drive will deposit you in the action or in solitude.

ACTIVITIES Aloha Beach Services (808-922-3111) on Waikiki Beach is your one-stop sport shop. They’ll arrange outrigger canoe paddling ($5 for two wave rides), longboard rentals ($10, perfect for first-time surfers), or sunset catamaran cruises ($15)—all right off the beach.

Rock rats with a weakness for supreme ocean views should head to the bolted 5.8-and-up sport routes at Mokuleia. For beta on the rock climbing, visit the Patagonia store in Haleiwa (808-637-1245).

Since 1916, three generations of the Kamaka family have been building the finest ukuleles. Stop by for a tour of the Kamaka factory (808-531-3165) and give the “jumping fleas” a strum.

FOOD Follow the locals to Ono Hawaiian Food (808-737-2275) for laulau: steamed fish, pork, and taro wrapped burrito-style inside ti leaves.

At Haleiwa Joes (808-637-8005, ), the “catch of the day” is just that. Go for the coconut-crusted ono with mango chutney.

LODGING Families appreciate the cooking facilities and one- and two-bedroom condos at Aston Waikiki Sunset ($263 per condo for up to six people; 808-922-0511, ), next to grassy Kapiolani Park on the fringe of the Waikiki fray.

Just off isolated Mokuleia Beach, near Kaena Point, which separates the north and west shores, Aston’s Polo Beach Cottage ($150 per night; kids under 18 free; 800-669-7719, ) offers horseback riding, mountain biking, rock climbing, and every beach sport you can think of.

Maui

Maui’s North Shore

ON MAUI, IT’S NOT UNCOMMON to see a rusted-out $500 truck with $5,000 worth of windsurfers, kiteboards, surfboards, and mountain bikes bulging off the roof rack. Windsport-happy Europeans and South Americans seem to congregate here, but everyone likes mixing the jungly, slow pace of Hana with the go-go-go west-side town of Lahaina.

ACTIVITIES Rise before dawn to catch majestic sunrise views from Haleakala’s 10,023-foot volcanic summit, then hang on for the 38-mile cruiser-bike descent to the ocean. Contact Maui Downhill ($150 per person; minimum height five feet, minimum age 12; 800-535-2453, ).

Trilogy Excursions offers full-day catamaran cruises from Lahaina to Lanai ($169 per person; kids ages three to 15, half price; 888-628-4800, ) for snorkeling in the marine sanctuary at Hulopoe Bay.

Kids may balk at museums, but never at sugar. Learn about the sweetest plant of all at the Alexander and Baldwin Sugar Museum (adults, $5; kids 6-17, $2; 808-871-8058).

FOOD The tender spareribs steamed in banana leaves and the mango barbecue sauce make Hula Grill (808-667-6636) a mandatory stop.

Near Maui’s famous Hookipa windsurfing beach, Mama’s Fish House (808-579-8488, ) is the place for mai-tais and pua me hua hana, a sauteed Tahitian-style fish.

LODGING With its beachfront setting, free summer activity program for kids six to 12, and fragrant, sculpted gardens, it’s no wonder the Napili Kai Beach Resort ($190 per night; kids under 12 free; 800-367-5030, ) has a 65 percent return rate.

If you can drag yourself from your plantation-style cottage on a bluff at 67-acre Hotel Hana-Maui ($295 per double per night; kids under 18 free; 800-321-4262, ), a five-minute shuttle from the beach, you can enjoy the free bikes, boogie boards, and snorkel gear.

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MAUI

Kiteboarding off Kanaha Beach
Access and Resources


THE BIG ISLAND

Mountain biking Mud Lane
Access and Resources

OAHU

Canoe sailing off Waikiki
Access and Resources


KAUAI

Soul surfing Hanalei Bay
Access and Resources

The New Fusion

Where Kite Flying and Wakeboarding Collide

Giving in to the addiction: the power zone off Maui

TAKE TWO FAVORITE PASTIMES of the ancient Hawaiians—surfing and kite flying. Toss them into the Cuisinart of new-sport inspiration, press the frappé button, and out pours kiteboarding. Barely five years old, this nascent sport has quickly come to the attention of all self-respecting fun hogs. Holding on to what looks like an oversize stunt kite with a trapeze-style bar, a kiteboarder harnesses the power of the wind, riding atop a stubby windsurfing-style board. It’s been described as wakeboarding with a twist—the twist being that you’re both the rider and the boat driver, the wind serving as your 250-horsepower outboard. My surfboard shaper on Oahu warned me: “Be careful…it’s more addictive than heroin.”


Overcome by temptation, I head to the center of the kiteboarding universe: Kanaha Beach Park, aka Kite Beach, a shaded little cove on the north shore of Maui. I’m here to take a lesson from Martin Kirk, owner of the Kiteboarding School of Maui, which, at three years old, is a pioneer in promoting the sport. Like so many of his kama’aina (long-time local) brethren, 15-year resident Martin came to Maui to satiate his water-sports jones—and never left. With sun-baked freckles, strawberry locks, and an East Carolinian pork-barbecue heritage, Martin didn’t strike me as a local’s local. But I found that more than wind powers him. He possesses an attribute the Hawaiians call kokua aku, a penchant for “giving back” to his community, whether organizing beach cleanups, volunteering as a Big Brother, or serving as kiteboarding’s ambassador.
The day of my lesson, the 18-knot trade breeze is ideal for laying out power-jibe rooster tails and hucking enormous air with slow-motion rail grabs. I, however, succeed with a flailing “body drag” wake, which is sliced and diced by a who’s who of hard-cores, pros, and even world champions. I clutch the so-called control bar, but it’s not at all clear who’s controlling what as I am dragged out to sea by the twitchy, bumblebee-colored kite, a 4.2-square-meter Cabrinha. If my motions aren’t smooth it yanks me skyward like a marionette being jerked off the stage. Martin encourages me in a calming voice: “Bring your kite to neutral…now hook into your harness…now dive your kite toward the water…PULL UP! Easy now, you can add and subtract thrust by diving and climbing.”


I safely make it to the culmination of our four-hour lesson, and now is my chance to put it all together—alone. Kite launched, Martin spots me at shore’s edge—adding ballast lest I get lifted prematurely. He repeats the checklist I must go through when I’m out on the water. “Kite to neutral…hook in…reach back for your board…slip into the footstraps.” All systems go—I dive my kite through that hallowed place known as the Power Zone, the downwind sweet spot about 45 degrees above the horizon where the wind’s full force hits the kite. Skipping out to sea, this time on my feet, I lean back on my heel-side rail and let the kite do the work. I’ve got it, and for now, my only peril is addiction.

Maui: Access and Resources

A bamboo forest near Wailua Falls, Maui

AT FIRST GLANCE, Maui, the second-most-visited island after Oahu, seems like a pie sliced in three: resort-complex Maui, golf-course Maui, and condo Maui. But there are plenty more pieces to go around—the grassy ranch land and volcanic heights of upcountry Haleakala, the rainforest splendor of the Hana side, and the north shore’s international windsurfing scene. Bon appe’tit!

WHERE TO STAY: The Hotel Hana-Maui on rocky Hana Bay has 66 luxury rooms and suites, many in plantation-style bungalows. Doubles, $275; 800-321-4262, . For the old upcountry Hawaii feel, stay at the Old Wailuku Inn at Ulupono, close to rainforest hiking and the famed Iao Needle rock spire. Doubles start at $120; 800-305-4899, .

WHERE TO INDULGE: In the upcountry hub of Makawao, head to Casanova Italian Restaurant and Bar for calzones and live blues; 808-572-0220. Brag about the big front loop you busted at Ho’okipa over fresh sushi at Jacque’s North Shore Restaurant and Bar in Paia, a hangout for the wind-chaser crowd; 808-579-8844. Or try the Old Lahaina Luau, with “broke da mouth” (delicious) Hawaiian fare and a traditional hula performance. $75 per seat; 800-248-5828, .

WHERE TO…
KITEBOARD: The Kiteboarding School of Maui’s beginner lesson costs $240; 808-873-0015, .

SEA KAYAK: Paddle into an isolated marine reserve at lava-lined La Perouse Bay, a playground of green sea turtles and whales, with South Pacific Kayaks & Outfitters. $89; 800-776-2326, .

SCUBA DIVE: Jump from a catamaran into a sheltered reef preserve off the islet of Molokini with Trilogy Excursions. From $150; 888-225-6284, .

WINDSURF: Harness the mellow morning winds off Kanaha Beach with Maui Sports Unlimited. From $50 per hour; 808-575-2266, .

SURF: Take a lesson “wherever the waves are going off,” with former pro Buzzy Kerbox. $65; 808-573-5728, .

HIKE: Follow the Sliding Sands trail into Haleakala Crater, then climb back up to the rim on the connecting Halemauu Switchback trail (11 miles total). 808-572-4400, . On the Hana side, hike Wai’anapanapa State Park’s three-mile Piilani Trail and follow coastal lava flows past the stone remains of a heiau (temple). 808-587-0062, .

MOUNTAIN BIKE: Rent a ride from Island Biker in Kahului and pedal the Mamane Trail, a five-mile singletrack loop through Polipoli State Park on the western slope of the Haleakala volcano. $29 per day; 808-877-7744, .

This Mud’s for You

The Joys of Biking on the Wild Side

I HAD BEEN WARNED. “It’s gonna be wet out there!” Grant Mitchell announced at least four times during the five-minute van ride from the upcountry town of Waimea to the Mud Lane turnoff. After nine years at the helm of Mauna Kea Mountain Bikes, Mitchell had ridden the Big Island’s most technical singletrack countless times and could afford the upbeat tone. But where I live in the parched and dusty Southwest, mud is an exotic novelty. I had come with him to reacquaint myself with mud’s unlikely charms—the way it splatters off your tires and shellacs every inch of skin and clothing and bike, and brings a sense of grimy triumph to each precarious pedal stroke—and to meditate on one of mountain biking’s most sacred mantras: Mud makes you cool.


Tucked into a dense swath of rainforest at 2,500 feet, high on the flanks of the lush Kohala Mountains and across a broad saddle from 13,796-foot Mauna Kea, Mud Lane exists in its own biosphere of mist and rain. The day of our ride, Mud Lane did not disappoint. It had been raining steadily all morning, and the trail was a veritable Slip ‘n’ Slide of muck and mud. After only a few minutes skittering down a washed-out jeep track—over a minefield of branches, rocks, and puddles—the mire was flying and our disc brakes were squealing. By the time we forked onto the three-mile singletrack loop, we were utterly, satisfactorily filthy. Threading our way through Norfolk Island pines and guava, koa, and waiwi trees, we tackled a thrilling series of tight roller-coaster turns, rain-slicked roots, low-slung branches, and gullies thick with mud. Had I not been so intent on staying upright, I would have whooped with delight.
If I was a little rusty in the mud, Mitchell was an old hand. Six feet tall with burly quads and forearms, he powered along as though he’d custom-ordered every rock, drop, and root on Mud Lane. Which, in fact, he had. “I helped build this trail,” he informed me as we stopped to admire a particularly impressive drop-off that one of us had just ridden flawlessly. Mitchell, 40, moved to Hilo from southern California in the 1970s, got into mountain biking, and teamed up with surfboard innovator and notorious Big Island eccentric Gordon Clark and other locals to help cut Mud Lane in ’86. These days, Mitchell leads rides across the Big Island’s wildly varied terrain and works a handful of jobs to stay ahead on a Hawaii not yet overrun with tourists. “I lived on Maui once,” Mitchell said, “but it was too crowded.”


Indeed, Mud Lane was our own private trials course that day. We’d had eight miles of epic, technical slime to ourselves—and later, before hosing off in Waimea, I paused to inspect the evidence: a few bruises, a head-to-toe dousing in Mud Lane’s finest, and a huge smile.

The Big Island: Access and Resources

The Big Island’s Alaska Falls

FROM SEA LEVEL to the nearly 14,000-foot summit of Mauna Kea, the Big Island offers the greatest topographic relief and climatic diversity of any of the Hawaiian Islands. It’s also large enough to swallow the other Islands—twice over. So be prepared to clock some miles on that rental car.

WHERE TO STAY: Kona Village Resort has deluxe grass-roof hales—all with private lanais—in an authentic Polynesian-village setting on the Kohala Coast. Doubles start at $495 per night; 800-367-5290, . The Waipio Wayside B&B, a 1930s plantation house on the rugged Hamakua Coast, deserves raves for its big Pacific views. Doubles $95 per night; 800-833-8849, . For an upscale base camp close to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, try the Inn at Volcano. Rooms and suites, $139-$399; 800-937-7786, .
WHERE TO INDULGE: Ka’upena Ono Hawaiian Food in Hilo is the place to go for a laulau, a Hawaiian-inspired burrito. Try their Super Coma laulau, a taro-leaf-wrapped hodgepodge of steamed pork, chicken, fish, and sweet potato. 808-933-1106. Bamboo Restaurant and Gallery—part island-art showroom, part delicious eatery—is located on the hip north tip of the Island in Hawi. Its passion-fruit margarita is the best on the island; 808-889-5555.

WHERE TO…
MOUNTAIN BIKE: Grant Mitchell offers a variety of guided tours on the Big Island, for all levels of riders, starting at $65. Bike rentals range from $25 per day to $130 per week; 888-682-8687, .

DIVE: Carlos Eyles, the master of breath-hold free-diving and owner of Diving Free Hawaii, will take you to the Kona Coast’s blue edge. Three-day programs start at $300; 808-326-1569, .

HIKE: Hugh Montgomery’s Waipio Waterfall ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø takes you on a 3.5-mile rim trail that loops around the top of 1,200-foot Hi’ilawe Falls. $85 per person; 800-457-7759, .

RIDE HORSEBACK: Na’alapa Stables offers two rides: one down in the vernal heart of Waipio Valley; the other through the open range of Kahua Ranch. $75 for a 2.5-hour ride; 808-775-0419, .

Connecting the Bumps

Racing the Wind in a Modern-Day Outrigger Canoe

CENTURIES BEFORE COLUMBUS MADE his little transatlantic trip, Polynesian wayfarers were crisscrossing vast stretches of the Pacific in their great voyaging canoes, guided only by their ancestral knowledge of the stars, winds, and waves. So I can’t help but feel a certain sense of tradition blowing in the breeze as we chase gust lines in Matt Buckman’s 45-foot fiberglass Hawaiian sailing canoe. Two outriggers, connected by a trampoline, balance the narrow hull as it slices through a light chop just outside the breakers fronting Waikiki’s skyline and the serrated Ko’olau Mountains. At 75 degrees, it’s a wintry day by Honolulu standards, and the spray blowing back from the outriggers forces Matt, me, and his two canoe-racing buddies to pull on light wetsuit tops.


Canoe sailing is the long-lost cousin of outrigger paddling, the state sport of Hawaii, and uses similar boats outfitted with triangular, lateen-rigged sails. Over the last decade, Buckman and a hard-core group of sailors have been reviving the sport, competing about a dozen times a year in interisland races. On off days, he extends his passion to anyone who wants to climb aboard and hang on for dear life.
A haole (non-native) in his late thirties and raised on Oahu, Buckman has a waterman’s permanent weathered tan and will go to any length to keep his boat floating. His seat-of-the-surf-shorts exploits are notorious among fellow sailors. Once, after flipping a canoe during a race and breaking a key piece of equipment, Matt and crew were towed to shore, where he cockroached screws from a rental van to patch the broken fitting. Certified sailing canoes made for racing run about $17,000—likely the reason there are only 15 in the islands.


Buckman handles the sheet with casual ease, occasionally tossing a steering order back to Leimomi (Momi) Kekina, a compact Hawaiian woman who teaches canoe sailing at a local community college and usually races against Matt. “Steering with a paddle is the essence of what makes a canoe a canoe,” Matt observes as he watches Momi deftly work an oversize steering paddle to surf the swells and catch the gusts. “Connecting the bumps,” she calls it.


We skim along in a 20-knot wind, flying one ama (outrigger) catamaran-style over the turquoise water, and I scoot out on the canoe’s broad trampoline to provide counterweight. The boat tucks into the face of a breaking wave as easily as it rips through the reef shallows off the Ala Wai Marina, taking full advantage of the canoe’s eight-inch draft. “You won’t find too many 45-foot boats that can do this,” Matt says with pride. It’s a sleek, strong work of art that tacks well as we zigzag back up the coast toward the postcard profile of Diamond Head. Safely moored back at the Outrigger Canoe Club it looks like a nimble water bug—all legs and long thorax.


Once we’re settled into a beachside bar and sipping margaritas, I ask Momi what sailing these historic boats means to her. “When I’m out there on the ocean, I feel a sense of spiritual freedom,” she says. “It’s like my ancestors are right there with me, showing me what to do.”


“What do they tell you?” I inquire.


“To go for it!”


“We have a saying,” Matt adds. “Wherever there are two canoes together, it’s a race.”

Oahu: Access and Resources

Sunset at Oahu’s North Shore

OTHER THAN SURFERS chasing down the legendary North Shore bombs, athletic travelers tend to think of Oahu as just an urban way station en route to the wilder neighbor islands. But Honolulu is just a bike ride away from a mountain trail, an uncrowded beach, or a bustling coral reef.

WHERE TO STAY: Make the scene at Oahu’s hippest hotel, the W Honolulu, with 48 contempo-Asian designer rooms and suites. Doubles, $375; 888-528-9465, . The Hawaii Polo Inn Beach Cottage sits on deserted Mokuleia Beach with views of the North Shore’s famous surf. $125 per night; 800-669-7719, .

WHERE TO INDULGE: See and be seen at Indigo, serving creative Eurasian fare in old Chinatown. 808-521-2900. Honolulu’s Ono Hawaiian Food dishes out traditional fare like poke (spiced raw seafood) and heapings of poi (mashed taro root); 808-737-2275. Locals head to Matsumoto’s for the island’s best shaved ice. 808-637-4827, .

WHERE TO…
CANOE SAIL: Matt Buckman’s company, Aloha Spirit Hawaii, offers canoe cruises off Diamond Head and arranges custom itineraries. $25 per passenger per hour; 808-306-6012, .

KITEBOARD: Fly on Kailua Beach with Naish (yes, as in Robbie) Hawaii. A two-hour lesson costs $100; 800-767-6068, .

SURF: The Hans Hedemann Surf School teaches novices to read winds, currents, and swells—and, of course, to surf. From $50; 808-924-7778, .

SCUBA DIVE: Swim out with Haleiwa’s Surf & Sea to the marine conservation area at Shark’s Cove on the North Shore, a diverse reef of coral canyons and challenging caves. $65 per dive; 800-899-7873, .

HIKE: Explore rocky coves and tide pools on the 2.5-mile coastal trail in Kaena Point Natural Reserve on the island’s northwest tip. Or try the Kuli’ou’ou Valley and Ridge Trail in East Honolulu, a six-mile forest loop through the Ko’olau mountains. Contact the state trails program, 808-973-9782, .

MOUNTAIN BIKE: Pedal with Bike Hawaii Tours through the dense tropical foliage of the Ka’a’awa Valley. $85; 877-682-7433, .

The Universe According to Guava

Respect is All You Need to Surf Monster Waves

An aerial view of Kauai’s Hanalie Bay

GUAVA JOE HAD LINEBACKER SHOULDERS, bowlegs, sun-bleached dirty-blond hair, and that hint of cynicism that comes from carving a life out of instructing landlocked tourists in Hawaii’s highest art form—surfing. My friends and I met him at Kayak Kauai, an outfitter and boat rental in the north-shore town of Hanalei.


“You ladies looking for a surf lesson?” he asked, without introduction.


We were. But we’d heard that monster winter waves had killed two tourists and one local surfer in the last week, and all we knew about this guy, aside from his fruity name, was that he appeared to be a Coppertone cliché. So we chatted him up.


“I’m just a soul surfer, I’ve never really competed,” he told us. But the 42-year-old did seem qualified. He grew up in New Hampshire, started surfing at age five, sailed from the U.S. Virgin Islands to Massachusetts before he was 20, and moved to Kauai for the waves in 1983.


“Girls are so much easier to teach,” Guava baited us. “Guys try too hard.”


We bit.


The next morning, we met Guava and our longboards at the pier on Hanalei Bay. Spanning two miles, with the crenulated mountains of the Na Pali Coast to the west and the combed sand of the luxurious Princeville Hotel to the east, Hanalei Bay is the stuff of honeymoon fantasies. Much to our surprise, it was also an excellent spot for a newbie surfer to catch a wave, with a distant reef breaking the 12-foot tubes and allowing them to reform in the bay as gentle, slow rollers. And we figured the chalky sand bottom would soften the rub when we crashed.


“You can’t control the ocean, so you gotta have respect,” Guava preached as we sat on the beach. “You’re taking energy created by another type of energy and coming in harmony with it.” Amen, brother.


Out on the water, Guava floated on his board 20 yards beyond us. He reminded us to pop to our feet, showed us where to position ourselves in a set, and then, when an ideal ankle-slapper approached, enthusiastically called, “Paddle! Paddle!” at the top of his lungs. “That-a girl!” he yelled as I fell off my board, communed with the ocean floor, then bobbed back up through the surf. I paddled and crashed until my skin felt like sandpaper. By four, we were parched. So we bought Guava a six-pack, sat on the beach, and basked in the glory of those few seconds when we had stood on our boards and come into harmony with the universe.

Kauai: Access and Resources

Kauai’s Poipu Beach

WHERE YOU GO AFTER landing in the town of Lihue depends on the island experience you’re after: To reach the wet, tropical side of Kauai and the dramatic Na Pali Coast, head north on the Kuhio Highway. To see the less-explored cactus-strewn desert cut by 3,000-foot-deep Waimea Canyon, follow the Kaumualii Highway west. Or, If lounging on one of Kauai’s impossibly soft white-sand beaches is a priority, you don’t have to go farther than Poipu, just 20 minutes from the tarmac.

WHERE TO STAY: Rent one of 48 two-bedroom condominiums at the Hanalei Colony Resort fronting the perfect beach on Kepuhe Point; $160 per night; 800-628-3004, www.hcr.com. In Waimea, book one of 53 rustic bungalows at Aston Waimea Plantation Cottages. From $215 per night; 800-992-4632, .

WHERE TO INDULGE: Join the surfing crowd at Zelo’s Beach House Restaurant and Grill in Hanalei for fresh-strawberry pi-a coladas and macadamia-nut-crusted ono; 808-826-9700, . The high-end Beach House restaurant overlooks Kuhio Beach in Poipu and serves a wonderful ahi taster combo plate—ahi poke, ahi tostadas, and an ahi hash spring roll; 808-742-1424, .

HOW TO…
SURF: Go with Guava or one of 12 other instructors at Kayak Kauai in Hanalei; $40 per 90-minute lesson; 800-437-3507, .

SEA KAYAK: Paddle past 4,000-foot cliffs on the remote Na Pali Coast, arguably the world’s most beautiful kayaking destination, with Outfitters Kauai; $165 per person, 888-742-9887, .

HIKE: Walk the 11-mile Nu’alolo/awa’a-Puhi Loop Trail above the stunning Na Pali Coast; the $231-per-person price includes lunch, guides, and transportation; 800-437-3507, .

DIVE: Just outside of Haena, Tunnels Reef is a maze of caves, caverns, and lava tubes winding 60 feet below the surface of the Pacific. Call Dive Kauai scuba center in Kapaa; $98 per one-tank dive; 800-828-3483, .

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Milky skies marked our February arrival in Alaska as we bounced along the tarmac in Anchorage. Soon we were winding south on the Seward Highway toward Girdwood and our palatial base camp, the Alyeska Prince Hotel, while Celeste, our driver, pointed out the paths of hulking avalanches that pummel the roadway on numerous occasions. “Last year, during one of our more intense storm cycles, a snowplow driver got blasted out into the Turnagain Arm,” she said. “Needless to say, the jig was up for him.”

Heavenly heli view over Girdwood

Placer-Skookum powder day

212 inches of ganglionic rush: dropping in on Glacier Creek

The pause that replenishes

Alyeska’s tram

The proof

Like so many aspects of life in Alaska, wildness and unpredictability are the norm. Meteorologically speaking, January had been a typically unusual month in the Chugach: It had dumped 29 of 31 days for a record-breaking 274-inch total—just under 23 feet. By any measure, an astonishing blanket of freshies.
Though an avid and reasonably accomplished skier and boarder, I had never considered myself worthy of this Alaskan bounty. “AK,” as it’s referred to by those in the know, redefines big, gnarly, and unforgiving. Alaska is to skiing and snowboarding what the North Shore of Oahu is to surfing—a proving ground. A place to put it all together because, if you don’t, you might be in for the big sleep—or so I’d heard. But this is not another saga of testosterone-fueled chest pounding. Rather, this is a tale intended to debunk Alaska’s “expert only” myth and expose the plenitude of moderate 5,000-foot descents awaiting in a sea of Rubenesque terrain.

That’s why when planning our sojourn we sought a situation that provided an ace up one sleeve, a king up the other, and a queen behind the ear. Enter Chugach Powder Guides. The Girdwood-based heli-ski business set up its operation to accommodate the whimsical nature of, well, nature. When the stars line up and the morning dawns blue, you’re in for a day of heli—unless the weather decides to change. Understanding its guests’ aching need for vertical, CPG has backed up its helicopter with a snowcat that accesses lower-elevation tree runs. And if all hell breaks loose—the chopper is grounded and the cat can’t operate—there’s a third option waiting off the back of the five-star hotel. There you’ll find a 60-person tram that, in less than four minutes, will zip you 2,000 feet up the steeply gladed, bowled, and couloired north face to the shoulder of 1,000-acre Mount Alyeska, home of Alaska’s largest lift-served ski and snowboard resort. So in essence we had signed on for a triple play.

As we rolled into the small town of Girdwood, our henna-haired driver pointed out one of the key local eateries (“Good luck trying to eat a whole pepper steak at the Double Musky,” she said, rubbing her stomach) before depositing us at the Alyeska Prince.

Later in the wee hours, snuggled under my high-threadcount sheets, I rolled over to ring the CPG Status Line. Each morning this fateful call for the predawn weather and forecast would tell me whether we were flying or grounded. As luck had it, we flew not only that first morning, but helied four of our first five days in Alaska. Call it a harmonic convergence: We’d somehow slipped into a favorable weather window.

OH, THE SMELL OF JET B FUEL in the morning. As Jay, our heli-pilot, pumped his plexi-bubble with specialized petrol, we paced around outside the hangar in our clunky boots and Gore-Tex garb. Before long Jay began shuttling us, four by four, into Winner Creek, one of the wild and woolly drainages leading upward into the Western Chugach Mountains. In addition to my four-person Montana crew there were parties from Munich, Denver, and Singapore.

I was a bit surprised when we landed on a large, rather flat snowy saddle, well below the peaks that surrounded us. But this, I was to learn, is how it’s done. Far from attempting the harrowing limelit steeps of a Teton Gravity Research film, we were starting out easy.
Virgil, a CPG senior guide who had given the safety briefing back at the hotel, was down the slope, digging a pit to assess the stability of the snowpack. Speaking through the spiral-wired radio mike hanging from his pack, he reported to the other guides, “There’s a wind layer at about 20 centimeters; it’s sort of an upside-down cake today. Let’s feel it out and work our way up slowly.”

As the morning progressed so too did we, landing higher and higher up into the alpine, slowly ramping up the pitch on our inclinometers. As the guides got more comfortable with the snowpack, conditions, and the competence of the individual parties, the stakes were raised accordingly.

We were like Lilliputians in a landscape on steroids. Atop one steep pyramid perch, my synapses began firing in a ganglionic rush, making my hair stand erect on the back of my neck. As the realization of where I was and what I was preparing to do sunk in, my psyching led to exultation. Jackets zipped and snug, packs cinched, we eyed our respective lines and dropped in one by one as velveteen powder pushed back with a smoothness and predictability I’d never felt before. All at once I was sliding fast enough to make golden snow fly over my shoulders, and yet, in a way, in slow motion, my pulse like a metronome.

Despite flat light up high and the alders we had to negotiate slaloming down to our landing-zone pickups, almost everyone appeared up to the challenge. There was one fellow, however, Mervin from Singapore, who was in over his head. His desire to “shred Alaska” outstripped his ability to do any such thing. Winded and whipped at the bottom of each descent, he nervously laughed to shroud the reality, reminding us that you needn’t be an expert to enjoy a heli-ski trip to Alaska, but you absolutely don’t want to be the Mervin in your group either.

Sitting atop our packs like stools on the snow, waiting for our next pickup, we wolfed down an assortment of fruits and candies. The folks at CPG choreographed logistics so that some pickups were nearly instantaneous while others provided enough time to catch your breath, eat lunch, and marvel at the surroundings. Jay radioed down that the winds up high were increasing and the visibility was deteriorating; it was his suggestion to pack it in. When a pilot as skilled as Jay—a man not given to overstatement—raises a concern, no one questions his judgment.

Back at the Prince, despite having been grounded for the afternoon, we decided to catch a tram and make a few runs at Alyeska Resort. My experiences of loading onto trams in the Lower 48 usually involved hordes of people squeezing into a snug metal tin, skis and snowboards shoved intimately close to my nose. We were amused to load on—just myself, my three friends, the tram conductor, and a ski patroller on telly boards—and head up the steep cables leading into the foggy heavens, luxuriating in abundant elbow room. Having the option to stack a few thousand more feet onto our day was a decided CPG-Alyeska bonus.

Despite all preliminary angst, Alaska was more accessible—and skiable—than I’d ever imagined. There was the morning we came into a landing zone up toward the Placer-Skookum drainage. The landing skids on our A-Star sank so deep in the poststorm pow that the chopper came to rest on its fuselage, and we wallowed crotch-deep, giggling like fiends as we hastily unloaded our skis and boards. Or the amber morning when we landed on the summit of Big Chief and made turns down a wavelike ridge. Farther down the Glacier Creek draw, we swooped through a surreal forest of gargoyles—erratic blue glacier ice on a moderately pitched slope. And our last day, when we landed and dropped the perfect fall line on Lips, banking in and out of each others’ smoky plumes.

Yes, AK will challenge all your Lower 48 notions about scale. Yes, it’s humbling and apt at times to make your tail swing up between your legs. And yet if you’ve paid a respectable sum of snow-sliding dues, if you’ve truly earned the title of “advanced intermediate,” if you can make turns in variable, sometimes less than perfect snow, and if you’re comfortable on most sub-40 degree slopes, you just may be ready to venture to the Pebble Beach of powder.

CHUGACH POWDER GUIDES’ operating season is one of the longest in Alaska, starting February 1 and running through mid-April. Though they guarantee 80,000 to 100,000 vertical feet in-season on their seven-day all-inclusive package, early birds (people who book trips for the first two weeks of the season) receive a $400 discount and unlimited vertical, should the weather cooperate (which it did for us). Choose from two weekly packages: Five days on snow starts at $3,150 per person (costs are based on double occupancy); seven days on snow starts at $4,350 per person. Package prices include lodging at the Alyeska Prince Hotel, transfers to and from the Anchorage International Airport, helicopter, guides, the use of an avalanche transceiver, lunch on heli-ski days, and unlimited lift access at Alyeska Ski Resort.

In addition to its all-inclusive packages, CPG offers a unique backup plan for its guests should the bird fail to fly. An additional $250 (the fee covers everything except lunch) guarantees you a seat in the snowcat on flat-light or stormy days. CPG’s exclusive-use permit gives the cats and helicopters access to 750 square miles of sublimely tilted slopes. The area has an annual snowfall of 740 inches, nonexistent lift lines, and everything from long cruiser runs to couloirs like the North Face. And yet with a summit elevation just below 4,000 feet, even sea-level skiers needn’t worry about acclimatization. Tucked into the trees at the far end of the Girdwood Valley and adjacent to the ski resort, the Alyeska Prince Hotel offers ski-in, ski-out convenience, a host of restaurant options including the award-winning tableside chop-chop at Katsura Teppanyaki, and numerous amenities. Our personal favorites were the fitness center (indoor pool, exercise room, sauna, 16-person whirlpool tub, and massage) and the Kiosk espresso bar on the way to the tram. For more details, contact Chugach Powder Guides (907-783-4354; ) and the Alyeska Prince Hotel (800-880-3880; ).

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Surfing in the Bay of Biscay, France

The southwestern corner of France has garnered renown for its chateaux, noble wines, phallic baguettes. But for surfers, this elbow in the Atlantic is most revered for wedging peaks, stand-up tubes, and, um, bronze bosoms. Get out of Paris by midnight with your board bag overloading a rental Renault, ply your eyelids with gas station-vending espresso, and you’re surfing in Hossegor by 8 a.m.


From Soulac-sur-Mer to Saint-Jean-de-Luz near the Spanish border are nearly 50 surf spots. Known as Aquitaine, this 170-mile stretch along the Bay of Biscay is characterized by conifer forests and sea oat-reinforced dunes, as well as the thumby beach breaks that beckon surfers.
The three main wave magnets along this strand are Lacanau, Hossegor, and Biarritz. Each offers a distinct slice of French culture with a hint of Miki Dora attitude. Lacanau, northwest of Bordeaux, is best known among surfers for the Lacanau Pro, a surfing competition held here in late August that attracts pros from around the world. This normally sleepy hamlet goes Richter when all the heavies are in town. If you don’t get too worked in the lineup, you can mosh till the wee hours with its throbbing discotheques.


Hossegor, 100 miles to the south, is where to go for power and tube time. It has a mellow, Cape Hatteras vibe and is known for the deep bathymetric trench of its coast that funnels in the swells. Eighteen miles farther down the coast, Biarritz blends Old World architecture and ambience with a new-world Euro surf scene. Grande Plage is where it all goes down and, for you loggers, serves up longboard-friendly surf.


While the Bay of Biscay gets year-round waves, late summer and early fall are peak season, when water temps reach the mid to upper 60s (a spring suit provides ample neoprene). Be aware that tidal swings can be severe—the surf can go from flat to firing in a matter of hours.

Coast-to-Coast Walk, England

You start by standing on a bed of quivering mud, the Irish Sea lapping at your hiking boots as you perform the ritual “boot dipping” that walkers traditionally undertake before setting off on England’s Coast-to-Coast Walk. In a country that is mad about walking, the Coast-to-Coast is the grand price: a 193-mile ramble that starts in St. Bees on the Irish Sea and goes clear across the Lake District and North Yorkshire to the North Sea at Robin Hood’s Bay.


The route is a memorable melange of moss-covered stone walls, fields of Swaledale sheep, and impeccable villages and hamlets. As you cross hills and dales and swollen streams, you’ll become a master of mud in all its guises. You’ll pass stone farmhouses where Border collies yap a greeting and wander through cow pastures, all of which will of course justify drowning a pint or two of Old Peculier at the end of the day. Then tuck yourself in at one of the cozy inns or B&Bs along the way.
You can do it yourself or contact an outfitter like Coast-to-Coast Packhorse, who’ll book the inns and tote your bags for 15 days for about $1,176 per person. But for those who don’t have the time or the legs to handle the entire walk, The Wayfareres has put together a six-day, 85-mile version using van transfers in three strategic places. Purists may balk, but it still adds up to a lot of walking. For $2,290, the company provides all meals, van support, moleskin, and seven nights lodging that ranges from the ultra-comfortable to Fawlty Towers stand-ins. Don’t be surprised if your boots let off steam while you dip them in the North Sea.


Contact Coast-to-Coast Packhorse at 011.44.17.683.71680 or www.cumbria.com/packhorse; The Wayfarers at 800.249.4620.

Mountain Biking, Spain

If crisping like a patata frita on the Costa del Sol is not your cup of sangria, why not head 70 miles north to Spain’s newly christianed Sierra Nevada National Park? Here you can mountain bike (or hike or climb) the same 11,000-plus-foot Andalusian peaks that World Cub mountain-bike champions descend.


Surrounded by 213,790 acres of high peaks and sprawling forest, riders of all levels can parallel the pros. For beginners, race planners recommend La Ruta Los Neveros 1, an easy 20.3 miles. Starting at the Sierra Nevada ski area, the trail follows wide dirt roads with stunning views of olive groves, cortijos (small stone farmers’ cabins), and jagged peaks. Intermediates will enjoy the more challenging Monachil, which runs 14 miles in the shadow of the Sierra’s rugged ridgeline and El Lapiz, a towring stone monolith worth a stop. At the end of the road, you can kick back with a cold beverage in the pueblo of Monachil.
La Ruta de Guejar Sierra challenges advanced riders with 12.5 miles of steep, stony trails that rise 3,850 feet. The even more ambitious can embark on the two-day, 30.5-mile tour that starts from the whitewash village of Capileira, perched mountainside among terraced fields cultivated as early as the tenth century. The route climbs 24 miles and more than 1,200 feet, above the sister village of Trevelez, past Laguna la Caldera and the park’s highest peaks—Mulhacen, Alcazaba, and Veleta. For 1,500 pesetas (roughly $10), riders receive a one-day guided ride plus a map, bus transport, T-shirt, picnic, and diploma. The two-day trip costs 5,000 pestas (roughly $31). The Sierra Nevada visitor center will rent you a bike for about $6 a day.


Also worth considering is the University of Granada’s summer Sierra school. Last year’s lineup included Ultimas Tendencias del Mountain Bike, a guided ride and university class with professional mountain-bike trainer Pablo Ruiz, and the more leasurely Flora y Vegetacion del Montana Mediterranea, a course in which students spend class time cycling while exploring the biodiversity of the Sierra Navada.

Hiking the Amalfi Coast, Italy

The mountainous Amalfi Coast, an hour and a half from Naples, is better known for hosting vacationing Roman emperors, film starlets, and Ferrari rallies than for rigorous hiking, But gaze upward from a chic resort like Positano and you’ll see an impossibly steep coastline that plunges straight into the Tyrrhenian Sea. Hikers go for the Amalfi because it offers some of the most rugged coastal terain in the world: The peaks may be only 3,000 to 4,500 feet high, but they’re unrelentingly vertical.


You ascend through well-tended lemon groves and fragrant fields of wild roses and rosemary. Wandering through chestnut groves, you tread on dirt tracks and foot trails that once formed the only connection between the region’s still-remote villages. Up the rocky flanks of Monte Lattari or through the Valle delle Ferriere, your rewards are the most stunning views in all of coastal Italy.
By sunset, you’ve earned a cafe table in the hilltop aerie of Ravello or in labyrinthine Amalfi, a town that looks more Moroccan than it does Neapolitan. Try limoncello, the local lemon-based liqueur—it’s the antidote for any pain caused by this alfresco Stairmaster.


Summer is high season here, with rates to match; check out Amalfi’s luxurious Hotel Santa Caterina ($191-491 for two to four people, including breakfast), with a seaside pool 500 sheer feet below the hotel, or a charmer like the family-run Hotel Lidomare (doubles, $55-65, including breakfast).

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Secluded at 6,200 feet on the northeastern flank of Montana’s Tobacco Root Mountains, Potosi eludes most land-of-big-sky locals—to say nothing of tourists. Perhaps that’s why the white-tailed deer gave us such curious “Who are you?” looks as we rumbled up the seven-mile dirt road from the one-bar town of Pony, an hour west of Bozeman. But the two-story main lodge and four creekside cabins we came upon—all blond-timbered and rough-hewn, fitted with woodstoves and overstuffed, cowboy-chic furnishings—signaled that this is no ordinary middle of nowhere.

Sweet seclusion: a creekside cabin.

AT THE LODGE
The resort’s twenty-something owners, Nick Kern and Christine Stark, live in the main lodge, where they also whip up organic meals. They normally serve breakfast and dinner in the large and open dining room, with its views of the fir-lined valley and the occasional moose, but we opted to have our elk tenderloin supper alfresco on the front porch of our cabin. A nearby tepee serves as a makeshift spa, offering massages ($90 an hour) and algae and mud wraps. BYO sage and crystals.
RIGHT OUT THE DOOR
My fly-fishing foray in tumbling pocket water on South Willow Creek was surprisingly productive. On the first run alone, I landed seven vibrantly colored rainbows, browns, and cutthroat. Can you say “honey hole”? A short walk uphill from the lodge, the first of Potosi’s hot springs—this one actually a warm spring, at 93 degrees—gather in a pool built in 1892. Another hundred yards up the trail, enclosed in a Hobbit-inspired gazebo, a true hot spring bubbles at 103 degrees. Eight additional springs have been found on the 75-acre property, and several are being developed for soaking.

FARTHER AFIELD
The legendary fly-fishing rivers of southwestern Montana—the Madison, Gallatin, Missouri, and Jefferson Rivers—are all within 50 miles of Potosi, but why stray when the 6,000-square-mile Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest abuts the property? Hike, mountain bike, and horseback ride on hundreds of miles of old mining roads and singletrack, or go with Nick and Christine on half- or full-day horse or pedal rides ($70-$125) and fishing trips. Come fall, when the aspen leaves turn to golden coins, earn your turns and hike the surrounding 10,000-foot peaks that transform Potosi into a skiing, snowboarding, and snowshoeing playground.

RESERVATIONS
Each cabin holds six people and rents for $300 per night, double occupancy (plus $100 per night for each additional guest), with a three-night minimum, July-September. The rest of the year, prices are $200 per night, double occupancy (plus $75 a night per additional guest). Meals are $75 per person per day. Contact Potosi Hot Springs Resort, 888-685-1695; .

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