Some 2,500 miles off the coast of California lies a green sand beach. Certainly you’ve heard of white sand beaches and black sand beaches, maybe you’re vaguely familiar with pink sand beaches, but if you’re anything like me you probably never knew a green sand beach existed (there are only four on the planet, so I don’t blame you)! Indeed, 3 miles from any paved road on the Big Island of Hawaii sits a hidden gem, Papakōlea Beach.

Hawaii’s famous green sand beach was formed some 49,000 years ago by a volcanic tuff ring on the island. The beach gets its distinctive color from the mineral olivine, found in the remnants of that volcanic cone. Papakōlea is nestled along the southeastern coast of Hawai’i, not very far from the Southernmost Point.

After doing some basic research on the beach, I quickly devised my plan: I was going to get up very early and hike the 3 miles it takes to get to the beach, take some photos, and hike back out later. I had read online that often the locals will offer you illegal car rides so that you can avoid the hike, but as someone who enjoys hiking and also enjoys not going to Hawaiian jail, I decided hiking was best for me. I wanted to get there early in the morning for three reasons: 1) most obviously, as a photographer, sunrise light lends itself well to making pictures, 2) after a basic look at Google Earth, it was clear there was 0 tree cover and that the hike would be very hot, and finally 3) despite being a tourist myself, I find other tourists to often be quite annoying. Fortunately for me, my mortal nemesis, “other tourists” typically sleep in.

Following a slight snafu with our hotel plans (we ended up on the island with no hotel reservation and with literally every hotel/airbnb/hostel/cave/etc. booked), we got up early the next morning and drove to the beach. Unfortunately, because the only bed and breakfast with any availability was located further away from the beach than anticipated, we missed being at the beach at sunrise. When driving down to the hike, the roads get increasingly narrow and undeveloped. At first, you’re on the highway, which is nice and paved and modern. Then you turn off onto Southern Point Road, which is mainly a country road with farm land on either side. The further you take Southern Point Road towards the coast, the further back in time you travel in terms of road quality. You exit the highway in the year 1990 or so, and by the time you get to the water (where you park your car) you might as well be back in 1750.

Reading online, I was lead to believe there was a parking lot down by the start of the trail, which is mainly untrue. There is a parking lot, but at least at 6 am, was something of a ghetto. The parking lot was littered with rusted, beat down cars. At first I just thought it was some kind of hillbilly junkyard, like how people out in rural areas seem to amass inhuman amounts of car parts in their lawn. However, as I looked closer I noticed that the cars weren’t junk cars being used for scrap, they were occupied. In fact, occupants seemed very much focused on living in them, as evidenced by the mustard colored mattress hanging from the tailgate of one car. They also seemed quite preoccupied with an array of illegal substances, some involving needles. Aloha friends! Perhaps I’m judgmental, but this wasn’t exactly where I wanted to leave my car for a few hours. Thus, we drove a little further down the road and parked behind a bush between two piles of dirt. Perfect.

The hike itself was fantastic. We set off eastward along the coast from where we parked, passing fishermen who vanished into the horizon off to catch fresh fish. Continuing along through what appeared to be the car tracks made by the locals, it was hard to get off the trail. The trail itself photographed beautifully in the morning light; the soft green grasses of the pasture wonderfully complemented the orange muddy dirt of the tire tracks. Thus, we stopped often to take pictures of the trail itself. Eventually we came over a ridge and before us Papakōlea sparkled green in the sunlight. Standing on the western side, we had a great panoramic vantage point, looking down at the entire beach.

Walking around the rim of the former volcanic cone, the beach looked pristine; we were the only ones out there, the beach was empty and secluded. We took our time admiring the bizarre and surreal green sand until we came across a rickety wooden staircase. As evidenced by a wooden sign which had faded into near oblivion after years of exposure to caustic sea salt, the staircase was the best way down to the beach. After descending the surprisingly sturdy stairs and half-sliding down the steep slopes of the beach, we arrived at the bottom, in awe of the strange olivine sand beneath our toes.

Unfortunately, no sooner than we got in the water did we hear the distinctive THUMP! of a car door slamming. The locals, and their law-breaking tourist customers, had arrived. Fortunately, it was an elderly couple who were quite nice (unlike the hordes of more obnoxious tourists that came by car as we hiked back). The current in the water was pretty strong and despite being a fairly competent swimmer, I didn’t stay in the water too long, just to be on the safe side. Down at the beach itself didn’t make for the best photographs in my mind, so we mainly just relaxed and enjoyed the beach itself. All in all, Papakolea Beach proved to be every bit worth the three-mile trek with its one of a kind sand and quiet charm. Bonus: after finishing your hike, you can drive a few minutes over to the Southernmost point and jump off the United States!