F E A T U R E S Bad Trips By Don George, Editor Visit Friendly Uzbekistan! Duck the gunfire, bribe the officials, drink the Cipro By Doug Fine Big Island Blacktop Chasing the heart of Hawaii By Shirley Streshinsky - Books on Hawaii - Getting there D E P A R T M E N T S Romancing the Road First Tango in Paris A romantic tale By Jenn Shreve - Books on Paris - Getting there Passages: "Questions of Heaven" Buddhist with a backpack By Gretel Ehrlich Table Talk - Knowing the Japanese Salon Taste Adventures in eating - - - - - - - - Your virtual travel agency - - - - - - - - E A R L I E R Tuesday April 22 A night from hell in Los Angeles By Don George, Editor Giving good gnocchi By Linda Watanabe McFerrin Meeting Moses on Mount Sinai By Deb Fellner Passages: "The River at the Center of the World" By Simon Winchester Postmark: Lamu By Don Meredith Readers' Tips and Tales A full list of all Wanderlust articles

I N P R A I S E O F lipstick-red convertibles, 2 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i might have been on another planet altogether when I drove up the Kohala Mountain Road in the middle of a perfect morning, blue skies up above filled with billowing clouds and the local Hilo station doing a Beatles retrospective. "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds" blasted on; I sang along as I sailed under the lacy shade of the ironwood trees, feeling fine. No reason. Just the car beneath me, the sky above, and the music seeping into me. Another day, another year, I came down the Belt Road from Waimea and at Saddle Road Junction, turned onto the Saddle Road. Rental cars are not supposed to go on the Saddle Road, a two-lane blacktop that crosses the island and gets progressively rougher as it nears the center before heading down into Hilo. But I was only going about six miles to Waikii Ranch, a calm section of the road. It was a long, slow, easy climb through open fields strewn with boulders, the detritus of old volcanoes and cactuses; here and there cattle grazed. This is, still, ranch country. But it was the sweep of the land that transfixed me. I could imagine myself in the clouds above, watching a lone red automobile moving slowly up the rise of the land, rolling along in perfect synch with the empty road. On that trip I was staying in a bed and breakfast in the mountain town of Waimea; returning that day, the car and I sailed along in sunshine though I could see rain falling in wafting sheets over the town in the distance. Soon rainbows, one and then another, overarching, guided me home. A couple of years ago, I found out that the section of the Belt Road that runs from Kailua Kona north along the Kohala coast had become crowded at almost any given time of the day, and I realized that I was never going to have it all to myself again. So I headed even farther north to check out Highway 270 (also called Akoni Pule Highway), along the Kawaihae Coast. I went fairly early in the morning, and, to my relief, the road was as empty and as beckoning as it always had been. I was settling into the drive, thinking about nothing in particular, when I spotted it offshore -- an island of some sort. But a crazy island, all patched and put together with what seemed to be metal plates, very weird. Enough to make me pull over to have a closer look. A small boat was nuzzling up to this apparition. Otherwise there seemed to be no activity at all. I puzzled over it all the way to Hawi, had a cup of coffee and then came back, down Highway 250 on the Kohala Mountain Road. I turned on the radio, remembering "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," but instead I got the Makaha Sons -- Moon, John and Jerome -- singing "Ke Alaula." Hawaiian magic; on the road again, and all was still right. When I returned to my hotel, I stopped to ask the concierge if she knew anything about the strange island I had spotted, and half expected her to offer some mystical explanation. She only laughed. "Hollywood," she said. "Kevin Costner built that island for his movie 'Waterworld.'" When I drove that road again, it was gone. Next time I go to the Big Island, I have designs on a route that has so far eluded me: the South Point Road leading to Ka Lae, the southernmost spot in the United States. I've been hesitating because nearby, at Mahana Bay, is a green sand beach I ache to see, but to get there I will need a four-wheel drive. This is a move that will take me into another realm, require a leap of faith. Still, I find myself wondering if four-wheel drive vehicles come in lipstick red. April 29, 1997 Shirley Streshinsky is a journalist, travel essayist and author of four books. Her most recent work, which she co-wrote with her daughter Maria, is called "Oats! A Book of Whimsy." She lives in Kensington, Calif.

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