The road to Haiku...

Because we had been well warned, we didn't have very much trouble with the legendary Road to Hana on Maui when we were there last week.
We planned ahead. We bought cold drinks with bubbles. We ate a good, light breakfast. We started off early so as to avoid the crowds who would be coming with us on the narrow, winding road purported to have over 600 twists and turns, narrow bridges and endless scenic delights.
Our intrepid rental car was full of gas if not gusto so off we went.
We stopped for this and that, trying to head off any carsickness, stepped right into a dreadful mud puddle that sucked our shoes in and tossed Marc into a violent bush.
We visited the Garden of Eden with strolling peacocks, checked out off the colorful flowers and ancient trees.
Eventually we arrived at the Hana Coi Maui where we were staying the night.
The next morning, we headed back, visiting caves and beaches and lava tubes that amaze.
It was great and we only had to stop once: at the way stop for feral cats. (Apparently there are between 11,000 and 20,000 charming feral cats living in the rest stop park. The cats aren't friendly or pretty. They're skinny, hostile and everywhere!)
The real test for us everyday in regular Maui was the road to Haiku to the Bamboo Valley Inn where we were lodged for most of the trip.
It was dark when we arrived and we had this little list of instructions. "Head north to W. Kaulia road, go until you see the flag pole and mailboxes. Turn right! Follow the road to the inn. Aloha!"
We drove along. There were numerous chickens scuttling out of our way. Then suddenly, a flag pole appeared and mailboxes.
Marc turned into a road that was a little more than a dirt trail. It was bumpy and full of holes, dirt-packed with jungle on both sides.
There were junked, decaying cars all along the way until the end where there's a sign explaining that the neighbors were going through an "unfortunate" time and with some help would be cleaning things up.
At the bottom, after the car had groaned and complained most of the way down, there was the Inn, simple and sweet.
Marc went around the side to park under the carport.
That's when I heard this horrendous smashing, grinding sound as he hit the side mirror into a concrete pole.
(It looked like metal mayhem with wiring hanging out and missing portions. The car was disabled. It wouldn't go, shift into another gear or turn off.)
Long story short. The damage was really only minor. Once we called a tow truck and suffered for a while, trying to guess what this would cost, Marc went back to the scene and found the back side of the mirror. He popped it back on and "Voila!" the car came on and we were good.
(At the rental return, when the check-in girl asked if there was any damage. We were able to say, "uh, no...just a little problem with the light.)
We consider ourselves lucky and now that we're home, we can truthfully say, "We survived the Road to Haiku!"