That's a tide you don't want to take yourself, so keep an eye on the surf that begins to creep over the far edge. After a couple of hours of solitude among the tide pools, you'll deem the Pacific close enough and make your way back to the trail and higher ground. From the top of the ridge, you can watch the ocean reclaim this bit of Hawaii.

SOARING OVER KAENA POINT
A big man steps out of his flip-flop sandals and climbs into his cramped cockpit. He's a glider pilot, known island-wide as "Tall Don" Rohrbach. You're behind him, in the jump seat of a sleek, orange aircraft. It's a Schwietzer 2-32 sailplane, needle-nosed, low to the ground with a vast wingspan. Next to you, an engine fires and a prop whirls to life; the tow plane is rolling out. Rohrbach shouts back a few last instructions. "Don't pull that handle unless you want to release the towline," he says. "And if you're going to be sick, try to tell me ahead of time."

The 200-foot nylon line pulls taut and you lurch onto the runway. The tow plane floats off the runway and you're right behind, yawing gently from side to side until you reach cruising speed. The green grounds of Dillingham Airfield fall away, and the startling blue Pacific spreads beneath you. Your ride banks inland and you follow in a steep, rounding climb. When you top 3,000 feet, Rohrbach pulls up on his stick and you rise above the tow plane. With the slack off the rope, Don yanks the release handle and the line pulls free. The tow pilot, free of his load, waggles his wings and flies away. You're on your own, alone with the wind.