Hawaii - Hank joins Hawaii's paniol;o cowboys on a ride through the clouds into the crater of the huge Haleakala volcano 
                         
                          Peel away the sun, surf, hula and flower garlands in Hawaii,  and you find cowboys – and Spam – embedded in the lifestyle. I had known about  the paniolo, the famous Hawaiian cowboys, and had wanted to ride with them for  more than 20 years. But the reverence for canned processed pig parts came as a  surprise. 
                         
                        There are only two directions on Hawaii – towards the sea (makai)  or towards the mountains (mauka). As you head up the volcano, the land becomes  temperate, the breezes sweet and the lush pasturelands a bright electric green. 
                         
                        I rented a studio on Maui in Paia, an old sugar plantation  town on the surfers' mecca of the north shore. Paia is well placed at the  seashore end of Baldwin Avenue, which climbs 1,500ft to the cowboy town  Makawao. Here I met Peter Baldwin, patriarch of Maui's most powerful family,  who took me into the world of the paniolo. He told me that Hawaii had cowboys  long before Texas or Wyoming. Cattle and horses were given to King Kamehameha  at the end of the 18th century. Within 20 years, thousands of feral longhorn  cattle rampaged across the islands, destroying crops. In 1830, the king invited  three Californian vaqueros to teach the Hawaiians to ride and herd the cattle. Españols  became paniolo. The vaqueros also left their guitars, and the Hawaiians found  their own way to play them, a sound that, along with the slide guitar, exploded  on to the American scene the following century. 
                          
                         
                        Baldwin used to be president of the 32,000-acre Haleakala  Ranch until he bought 800 acres which became Piiholo Ranch to raise Corriente  cattle, fast wiry steers ideal for competitive roping, his passion. I watched a  practice session at his ranch, two men racing after a steer fizzing out of its  chute, one to lasso the head, the other the heels. Ever since three Hawaiian  roughriders beat the Americans at the Cheyenne Rodeo in 1908, they have been proud  of their skills with the kaula 'ili, the Hawaiian lasso. 
                         
                        I went for a ride across Baldwin's ranch, across the bright  green kikuyu and pangola grass and up Piiholo Hill with a view right across  central Maui and the western volcano, with the white surf-fringed beaches  below. Pony Express does horse rides through Haleakala Ranch. I chose to go  with them on the trail of dreams, a ride into Haleakala's crater, one of the  world's most spiritual places – Hawaiian priests came up here to worship the  demigod Maui and Pele the fire goddess. 
                         
                        Riding 2,500ft down into the crater on horseback is like  riding on the moon, a wilderness punctuated with rusty cinder cones and  volcanic vents. White waves of cloud-surf pour through two gaps in the crater  rim. 
                         
                        Finally, Hawaii as the world's Spam epicentre? Along with  pineapple, Spam is central to Hawaiian cuisine. Polynesians are generously  built people, but Spam pushes many into sumo size. It comes in bizarre combos  like Spam-flavoured macadamia nuts or musubi, which is Spam sushi – a white  rice-ball with a slice of cooked Spam across the top tied together with nori,  Japanese sushi seaweed. The perfect yin and yang, it is an edible oxymoron, the  healthy rice and seaweed grappling with the work of the devil. Apparently, it's  one of President Obama's favourite foods. 
                         
                             
                                                                                                                          
                        ©  Hank Wangford  23rd July 2011 
                          
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