I biked along the ocean yesterday. Rolling hills, lava flows mixed with deep, wet forests lined my path. We started at the farm, Nathan and I, and journeyed to the Kalani Ecstatic Dance which happens every sunday morning. People call it church, but it's hard for me to compare the two. We danced, freely, openly, lovingly. The open air studio has a sweeping view of the sea: I faced it with the energy of a hundred people behind me. I felt their vibrations in my shoulders, moved it down my back, and danced my little heart out. It was quite spectacular, especially after a rainy bike ride there. From Kalani, we biked to the beach, the nude beach. We laid there, we saw our friends, we made new friends. Then began the long bike ride home, from sea level to the 1200 feet elevation of the farm. I've never ascended 1200 feet on my bike, and especially not over 8 miles. I'm not going to lie, it was pretty gnarly. I was riding a mountain bike that was far too small for me, but was lucky enough to have some strong legs, a good partner, a good sky, good air. My feat stirred some serious emotion and upon my return to the farm I was filled with the excitement of a little kid and exploded to Nico and Camas. It also further stirred my curiosity of a bike tour, south america perhaps. It is simply what I love doing, biking that is, and it's portrayed ever so simply that I need it ever present in my life. I also find little else that compares with the enjoyment and beauty of biking new territory, biking beautiful territory.

This weekend was basically amazing. It started with a hike up the crater to see the full moon, but failed on a few attempts. I didn't make up the hike because I got too scared (it was a one foot wide rocky path, in the dark, with 200 foot death-promising drops to either side) and also because it was cloudy. We traveled to Hilo saturday for a day on the town: the market, the bike shop, the army surplus store (where I got a wool sweater for $9 because nobody needs a wool sweater here. I've gotten some laughs for buying a wool sweater in Hawaii, but my bones remember the cold), the waterfalls and the pools they drained into, and finally Richardson's beach on Hilo bay where we sat atop the rock cliff to enjoy the moon rise. It was beyond beautiful. At the waterfall we swam through the cool ponds to the main one where 3 waterfalls emptied their energy as we climbed up the rocks and sat there. Nico and I enjoyed the view while waiting for the others to arrive. Once they did, we jumped off. It was the closest thing to real rock climbing I've ever experienced: the natural holds just like the holds in the gym in St Paul, my heart beating just as fast only now with real consequences should I fall. I didn't. I climbed and jumped off into the icy water, something I overcame the little voice in my head to do. I like when I can overcome that voice and be daring, even if it's only daring on my standards.