The Land of Mist

"The only hope I had left was the mist of the forest." It was the summer of 2017 and the helicopter was taking off from the East side of Maui nearing Hana. We were flown in pairs as we worked our way down the mountain of Haleakala, tackling aliens that invaded our forest. There were all sorts of weird strange lifeforms that invaded our home, some were twiggy and full of thorns, one species in particular had spiked berries hanging onto everything that it touched. One thing that they all had in common was their overdrive to take over our sacred home. By the time we landed, we split taking different paths to clear more ground, for the first time have I never wanted to be alone.

"It will be okay, just follow the path 'straight' down to the intersection and I will meet you there!" was the last thing my mentor said as he trailed off on his own. "Oh well." I said aloud to myself as I followed the map and headed down the trail. Besides all the alien plants we have encountered, the most beautiful scene was looking up at clouds hanging in the trees condensating on native ferns creating droplets that clung to the tips of wawae 'iole until it softly splashed down onto the mossy roots of an old 'ohi'a lehua tree. "If there was heaven on Earth I'd gladly die here!" I joked, knowing my morbid humor, and fearlessness of death. The songs of honeycreepers filled my ears along with the sound of the forest 'as if it was breathing life into the land' the rise and fall of the wind the sun peeking through the canopy. Then all went quiet, then dark.

There was more dangers that lurked in now a dark and damp forest. As we were told to replace snares and traps for the mountain beasts that tend to dig up the roots of the fragile ecosystem these were some of the most notorious that was wanted on our hit-list. "This was all Cook's fault for bringing them here! The beast that our ancestors brought were small and tamable kept in pens. But these mother****ers are big and ugly and quadruple the size of our pigs!" No one was around as I vented losing my train of thought in each snare I laid there was nobody to judge my foul-mouthed language. I laughed it off dissing every ugly alien I came across. I should mind my manners like walking through my grandmothers garden and trying to piss off every weed I saw. Before I knew it the last tag on the trail was gone and there was no where else to turn. I was lost.

"Don't panic if you keep walking down you'll find something or someone" But it was a long way back to anywhere and there was no service to call for an emergency pick up. My only choice was to meet up with the rest of the crew. "Hey... um we have a problem?" I radioed in. "Oh shit Pomai what happened?!", "You said go 'straight' so I went straight and now I'm lost damn it!". Pulling out my GPS I zoomed out from my waypoint and saw how much ground I had lost to cover. It was either walking halfway back up the mountain or cutting though the brush that looked like a quarter of a mile. I looked up, then to the side, I had made up my mind, "Well f**k me screw the stairway to heaven I want to live for once!" Machete in hand and knife in other I pushed and pulled and fought a guardian of ferns that nearly swallowed me whole.

Once I chopped through the back end of now a smaller deity, 'it's okay it will grow back soon... I hope', I found myself on a fallen log hanging ten feet off the ground above what looked like an old pig pit. The stench of mud and decay filled my nose as I walked across, grateful that it didn't break, and like a little boy scout, clung onto the sturdiest tree I could find. It felt like more than an hour that passed me by as I radioed in again. "Ok boy scout just keep going I'm waiting for you at the next LZ." With self motivation I let go of my bestfriend for the past five minutes, said thank you and good bye for the final time and ran. It was a clear get away, now with blades sheathed and GPS in hand, I had finally reached the trail nearly missing the tag that marked my destination.

As I bogged to the LZ, I was expecting a "Where the hell have you been?!" or something of that matter, at least a decent scolding, I felt like a liability, but to my supprise my mentor picked up his bag and with a quick "okay let's go!" we headed toward the cabin in the woods. The night was long as we drank into the night being the only woman in a house of men we shared our stories and went over our plans for the next day. "You got the next trail Pomai? Just don't get lost this time!" Yup I was on my own again as we laughed off our stress into a deep sleep.

The moring was beautiful and with a last cup of coffee we were ready to depart. This time however we were flown down from the cabin only to work our way back up again. We landed in a LZ a mile from headquarters, I watched as one team went one way, my mentor went on his own course and once again I was alone. With challenge in my soul, I tredged along a fence as the race against time began.

All was pretty damn well doing our job was the least of our concern. It was a bright sunny day and snares were running low in my bag. As I stopped to drink from my flask, I had a feeling something was watching me. On the other side of the fence, the rustling of boars in the bush could be herd. But their eyes were not those that I could feel piercing into the very fiber of my being. I leaned on a tree, old and covered in moss and the smell of death, wait, what?! Where was it coming from? It felt like a waterfall of someone breathing down my neck. I jumped up, the boars on the other side of the fence sensed my movement as I turned around. There knotted in wires of an old snare as the tree was growning around it for the past few years, inlaid at the knotch of a splitting tree was the lower jaw bone of what seemed to be a 350 pound boar.

His tusks, teeth and molars were still intact as the bone itself was green with moss and time. Now I knew why those two were stalking me for the past half hour, a hint of vengance was shot at me as i could see one red beady eye of the monsters on the other side. Hell I'd be pretty pissed too if my comrade was a hanging jaw in a tree for all eternity. I needed them to leave, a rock wouldn't harm them but enough of a distraction to get out of sight. It was a wire fence if they were mad enough they could plow through it. I grabbed a stone the size of my fist and like football, the stone hurled through the trees and into the nearby brush as I ran like hell. I only regret not hitting his eye for staring at me like that. Dumb pig.

The Sun was still shining when a ravine was in view. There was a rope to guide me over instead of walking around an old stagnant pond. Shit smelled worse than hell. As the stench stayed in its lingering the feeling of cold mist touched my skin once again welcoming me back to the higher reigions of the forest. There is a saying from our people, 'keep the wind at your back' in a sense of letting the past stay where it is as it pushes you toward the future. What felt like a billow of mist ushering me foward I was homebound for the cabin. By the time we packed all of our gear loaded the helicopter and left the mountain behind, all seemed to be like a long adventure from a storybook as we took the long drive back around Haleakala back to town. Bed was more than inviting as I once again dreamed of the land in the mist.