Chuck and I tried to ride our bikes up Haleakala on Maui, '68 or '69.
We rented the bikes in Honolulu, took them apart somewhat, and flew to Maui. First stop was
Lahaina, a totally hippie town at that time. Then onward to Haleakala, a 25 mile ride to the base.
We got a short way up and were exhausted, so we stopped to rest. A large convertible car pulled up
and asked us if we wanted a ride uphill. There was a young man and woman in the front, dressed in all white.
In the back seat was an older woman they called Miss Bankhead. She looked like Tallulah. So we put
our bikes in the trunk and got in. Up and up we rode until we reached her house. It was getting late.
She told the young man to show us to the bamboo grove where we could camp. She said to come
up to the house later for story time.
The bamboo grove was infested with large rats, hungry for the food box we carried on our bikes.
The whole thing was so freaky that we left and rode downhill for a few miles and spent the night in a field.
The next day we rode downhill for many miles, never peddling once, Back to Lahaina.
The next year I made it to the top of Haleakala with a different friend. Quite the large crater.
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