Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, October 29, 1995 TAG: 9510270111
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: G3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARGIE FISHER EDITORIAL WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
But as many told me would be the case, I found that photographs, travel brochures, rapturous travel articles and countless movies filmed there - from the 1958 classic ``South Pacific'' on to the more recent ``Jurassic Park'' - had not done justice to the lush and breathtaking scenery.
I'll spare you my own drooling account of it, except to say this:
In Hawaii, what you get is what you see, and you can really see every inch of the magnificent 50th state that you have the time to get to by car, bus, helicopter, bicycle or on foot.
It takes a while to realize what's different, what's missing - or, more correctly, what you're not missing:
Billboards! Huge and garish billboards, hawking cigarettes, jeeps, TV talk shows, plumbing supplies, Joe's eatery, stomach antacids and politicians do not block the vista!
For this unexpected blessing, we were told, thank seven women who in Honolulu in 1912 organized a predecessor to the League of Women Voters to fight off the outdoor-advertising industry and to protect their homeland's natural beauty. Their fight was officially won in 1927, when the legislature banned billboards throughout Hawaii. It remains one of only two states - the other is Vermont - to have a law against this particular form of sight pollution.
The difference this makes in a tourist's enjoyment of Hawaii is stunning. Before I went, for instance, I was warned by some not to expect much from Honolulu. ``Just another big city, like any other,'' one person described it. ``If you've seen Miami, you've as much as seen Honolulu,'' another said.
Well, I have seen Miami - and, believe me, there's no comparison. In Honolulu, billboards, blinking and blazing neon signs, and crass commercialism do not unfurl on every main drag to assault and batter the eyes.
Now, here, I must insert the disclaimer:
The opinions herein are strictly those of the writer, and not of the management of this newspaper, which loves advertising and advertisers, and which will be quick to remind me that what I so foolishly call ``crass commercialism'' has played a vital role in sustaining and fueling our free-market economy - not to mention the regular issuance of my paycheck.
OK, OK. All I'm saying is that billboard-free Hawaii is a sight for sore eyes. And, incidentally, I did not notice that Hawaii's economy is suffering from lack of commerce in cigarettes, jeeps, TV talk-shows, plumbing supplies, Joe's eatery, stomach antacids or politicians.
It simply relies on a more effective form of advertising: T-shirts!
I was fortunate to come home from Hawaii when Southwest Virginia's own natural beauty was at its autumnal peak. (Felt fortunate, too, that Roanoke is not Miami, and glad that Virginia, if not billboard-free, has at least done a better job than many states of regulating outdoor advertising to protect its own rich tapestry of scenery from commercialism run amok.)
The first weekend I was back, I drove up Bent Mountain to gorgeous Floyd County. Last weekend, I drove up (and up and up) to Mountain Lake in Giles County. Spectacular treats, both.
And I don't doubt for a minute that many first-time tourists to this area would find these gems of the mainland every bit as awesome as I found Haleakala National Park on Maui, where I hiked the last 100 feet to the 10,023-foot summit to get the fullest view possible of the dormant volcano's crater.
Doubtless, too, many tourists consider the Blue Ridge Mountains in October as much of an epiphany as I considered the Waimea Canyon and the high cliffs of the Na Pali coast on Kauai.
But enough name-dropping. Let me get back to my political message:
The Waimea Canyon and Na Pali coast are mostly inaccessible except by helicopter. (From the air, it seemed an endless expanse. But, our helicopter pilot reminded us, the entire island of Kauai would fit inside the Grand Canyon, which I've also had the thrill of flying into.)
Why is no Southwest Virginia entrepreneur offering helicopter trips for the thousands of tourists that crowd the Blue Ridge Parkway to see the famous changing of the colors each fall? To be sure, we don't have 150-foot waterfalls that know no season. To be sure, also, the views from the parkway's overlooks are nothing to snoot at.
But there are also breathtaking views of our mountains that are mostly inaccessible except from the air. Why hasn't one of this region's many ``visioning'' groups recommended helicopter visioning to promote tourism?
Haleakala National Park is home to a unique and fragile ecosystem, and (as is indeed all of Hawaii) home to rare, beautiful and endangered species of plants, birds and animals. That, of course, can be said about national parks in other states, including Virginia.
If congressional Republicans believe it will do no harm to emasculate funding for the national-park system and seriously weaken this country's environmental-protection laws, they are, as one of our native Hawaiian tour guides put it, ``lo-lo''- really stupid.
by CNB