Okay then…welcome to The Contemplative Thinker, where we chose to do our fair share of critical thinking. Albeit, for today it should be Saturday morning for the world or if you are reading this on Sunday morning, ah the heck with it pour yourself a nice cup and enjoy the reading, this one is just a little longer.
We have a common expression in the USA that goes something like this: “Go to Hell.” Take that anyway you would like albeit, anyone who does not believe in a Judeo-Christian religion may have difficulties just what the expression means. Take your basic agnostic person and the notion of “Hell” to him/her should be non-threatening or non-abusive.
The semantics behind what they believe and who they are after is just plain ridiculous to me. What any of these special interest groups do not understand is that their very behavior — the mission they involve themselves with are out of sync with this nation and those who identified this country.
Be that as it may — how many of us can say we have either experienced Hell or somehow, maybe we have been close to Hell? Some of the stories we’ve seen, primarily through film and movies and what I have been treated to lately is an artists’ rendering of what Hell is like.
As for me it all started out as a great day in Kailua-Kona, on the big island of Hawaii. Actually several of us took a “puddle jumper” (or a name given to smaller aircraft) from Oahu to Hawaii to play in an beach volleyball tournament that was sanctioned and huge. As the norm of such events actual play starts quite early so that if one’s team has done well, then the tournament picks up again with spectacular play around midday.
You see in one or even some two day tournaments are followed by a sort of happy hour, hot tubs, relaxation therapy, messages, and time to fix up whatever part of one that got abused during competition often times during an enormous bonfire.
After the tournament had ended we had it planned to go check out some of the newest of lava flows insofar as Kilauea had been acting up and really doing its thing. A person could easily see where the largest bit of commotion was coming from when all it took was a look upwards and without a single sound and a massive pressure of hot wind would hit you, peering up one could see big, even huge, lava spouts being thrown upwards. Let’s try and find some perspective here followed by the most important aspect, How did we come to find out what Hell is like?
Now driving to the actual site was horrendous to say the very least. Ask yourself: Where is the actual site? Now remember volcanoes just don’t erupt from the huge hole found at the top. More often than not there are other places where huge plumes of smoke start out as horizontal in nature but through the atmosphere they get moved vertical then look like smaller tornadoes billowing out clouds of smoke and ash.
We arrived at 7:30 P.M. although what may be a starting point for some could easily be the finishing point for others. This one trip — I must give credit to my friend Rudy who is as crazy as a hermit firefighter. He was driving if one could find a facsimile of a road. Many times I know we just made it over some newly spewed medium hot lava so much it kept me looking at our tires to see if we were on fire.
Rudy started driving up and up and up until our car just coughed in that eerie way just before they die. So here I am out on a spectacular Hawaiian night with some friends walking together when our paths split. Little did I know that the path I was walking on was torn out from a lava flow of two years previous. Moreover we were adjusting our path with one huge flow ranging in height from mid calf to a little higher than my waist.
Here is what no one ever tell others about: Walking that close to an actual lava flow is surreal…there you have it — all. Magma moving slowly downhill and the cracking you hear is so loud you want to scream! Intermittent balls of fire being birthed in the middle of the flow. Yet all in attendance agreed that the smell of death that engulfed the entire area left us almost completely winded and without new breath. Hot sulfuric acid mixed in with molten magma the bi-product was air that smelled of sulfur. In one word…putrid.
Alas, we made it down to the ocean where the steam was so hot it was mesmerizing. Feeling able to move, I grabbed the biggest bolder I could locate and hurled it from 2 yards from the very active flow to see if it would splash as if I had thrown it into the ocean. You’ve got to be kidding me, that bolder never hit the surface of the flow. Approximately 3-4 feet before it landed on the surface that rock looked like a comet and destructed as a rock when consumed by the swerving flow of lava.
This is the feeling when I, somehow, ended up between different lava flows each with a differing temperature and more than all things a different temperament. Through the ash in my ears and constant bombarding of incoming spun rocks and debris from an active volcano erupting, to unable to use my eyes because someone had told me hot magma from exploding lava was much like glass so until I found some suitable sunglasses (yes at night no less!) my eyes remained closed. Now all of this became really difficult as I humped wearing flip-flops. It took weeks to smell again as well as cleaning out my bloodied nose.