You're driving down Highway 132, deep into the Puna District on the Big Island. The air gets thicker. It smells like damp earth and rotting guava. Suddenly, you see them. Tall, gray, hollowed-out pillars that look like someone took a blowtorch to a forest and then dipped the remains in wet concrete. Most people call this place Lava Tree State Monument, but honestly? It’s basically a graveyard for a forest that didn't stand a chance back in 1790.
Most tourists just pull over, snap a selfie with a "lava tree," and leave. They think they’re looking at burnt wood. They aren't. What you’re actually seeing is a snapshot of fluid dynamics and physics caught in a moment of extreme violence. It’s a literal cast of a tree that hasn't existed for over two centuries.
How Lava Tree State Monument Actually Happened
Back in 1790, a massive fissure opened up nearby. This wasn't a slow, oozing flow like we saw in 2018 at Leilani Estates. This was fast. Think of a flash flood, but made of molten rock. The lava rushed through a dense grove of 'ohi'a lehua trees. Now, 'ohi'a wood is incredibly moist. When the 2,000-degree Fahrenheit lava hit the wet trunks, a layer of lava instantly chilled and solidified around the wood.
The rest of the flow kept moving.
Because the ground sloped away, the main body of the lava drained into a lower basin or back into the volcanic vent. It left behind these standing columns of cooled basalt. The trees inside? They were incinerated. Some vanished immediately, while others smoldered for days, leaving hollow tubes where a living thing used to be.
The 1790 Eruption vs. Modern Flows
You might wonder why we don't see this everywhere on the Big Island. It requires a very specific set of circumstances. The lava has to be "Pahoehoe"—that smooth, ropy stuff—and it has to be moving at a specific velocity. If it’s too slow, it just knocks the tree over. If it’s "A'a" (the chunky, sharp stuff), it acts like a bulldozer and grinds everything into the dirt.
At Lava Tree State Monument, the timing was perfect. The lava was fluid enough to wrap around the bark but the drain-off was quick enough to leave the shells standing. It’s rare. You can find smaller versions of this in the Ka'u Desert or near the 2018 flow zones, but nothing on this scale.
The Reality of Visiting the Park Today
Let’s be real for a second. The park is small. It’s about 17 acres, and the main loop trail is only 0.7 miles. If you’re a power walker, you’ll be done in ten minutes. Don't do that. You’ve gotta slow down to see the details.
The ground is uneven. Like, really uneven. You’re walking on a solidified lava flow, and the roots of giant banyan trees are constantly trying to reclaim the path. It’s "accessible" in a technical sense, but if you have bad knees, take it slow.
One thing that surprises people is the silence. Pahoa is usually loud with birds and wind, but inside the grove, it feels heavy. Maybe it’s the lack of dense canopy in certain spots, or maybe it’s just the visual of those gray sentinels.
What to Look For (Besides the Trees)
- Deep Cracks: There are massive fissures in the earth here. Some are ten or fifteen feet deep. Stay on the trail because the ferns often hide these cracks. You don't want to find out how deep they go the hard way.
- The Banyan Takeover: Near the entrance, there are massive Banyan trees. Their roots wrap around the lava rocks like tentacles. It’s a weird contrast—living wood strangling dead stone.
- The 'Ohi'a Resilience: You’ll see new 'ohi'a trees growing directly out of the cracks in the old lava. They are the first things to grow back after a flow. It’s poetic, or whatever.
Why the 2018 Eruption Changed Everything
For a while, we weren't sure if Lava Tree State Monument would even survive. In May 2018, the Kilauea lower East Rift Zone eruption started just down the road. Fissure 8 (now named Ahu'aila'au) was pumping out fountains of lava that were hundreds of feet high.
Highway 132, the road you use to get to the park, was completely buried under 30 to 60 feet of new lava just past the park entrance. For months, the park was cut off. It was a ghost town. When the road was finally carved back through the new flow in 2019, the park reopened, but the landscape around it had changed. You now drive through a literal wall of black rock to get there.
It’s a stark reminder. The 1790 flow created the park. The 2018 flow almost took it back.
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Practical Stuff You Actually Need to Know
Don't show up at noon and expect to be comfortable. It’s hot. It’s humid. It’s Puna.
- Mosquitoes: They are legendary here. The hollowed-out lava trees collect rainwater, creating the perfect breeding ground. If you don't wear bug spray, you aren't a visitor; you're a buffet.
- Facilities: There are restrooms and picnic tables. They are basic. Don't expect a gift shop or a Starbucks. This is a state monument, not a theme park.
- Weather: It rains. A lot. This is the windward side of the island. Bring a rain shell even if it’s sunny when you leave Hilo or Kona.
- Entrance Fees: Historically, there hasn't been a fee for Hawaii residents, but tourists might face small parking fees or entrance costs as the state moves toward more sustainable tourism models. Always have a few bucks or a credit card ready just in case.
Safety and Respect
The park is a "wahi pana"—a sacred place. People often leave small offerings (ho'okupu), but honestly, the best way to show respect is to not touch the lava trees. They are fragile. The basalt is basically glass and air. If you lean on one for a photo, you might break a piece off that took 200 years to stay standing.
Also, watch out for falling branches. The 'ohi'a trees in the area have been hit hard by Rapid 'Ohi'a Death (ROD), a fungal disease. Many of the living trees are stressed or dying, which means falling limbs are a real thing.
Is It Worth the Trip?
If you’re staying in Kona, it’s a long drive. Like, two and a half hours. If you’re only coming for the park, you might be disappointed. But if you combine it with a trip to the new black sand beach at Isaac Hale (Pohoiki) and a drive through the 2018 lava fields, it’s one of the coolest days you can have on the island.
It’s about the scale of time. You see the 1790 trees, then you see the 2018 flow, and you realize the Big Island isn't finished yet. It’s still being built.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
- Pack high-DEET repellent. Seriously. The mosquitoes at Lava Tree State Monument don't care about your "all-natural" lemon-eucalyptus spray.
- Check the Hawaii State Parks website before you go. Puna is geologically active and weather-dependent; closures happen without much warning.
- Visit in the early morning. You get the best light for photos through the trees, and you'll beat the humidity peak.
- Wear closed-toe shoes. Flip-flops (slippers) on jagged basalt are a recipe for a sliced toe.
- Combine the trip. Start at Lava Tree, then head down Highway 132 to see where the road was reclaimed from the 2018 flow, and end at Pohoiki to see the new coastline.
The "lava trees" aren't going to be here forever. Erosion and invasive roots are slowly breaking them down. Seeing them now is seeing a temporary glitch in the volcanic process.
Resources and References
- Hawaii Department of Land and Natural Resources (DLNR) - State Parks Division.
- USGS Hawaiian Volcano Observatory (HVO) reports on the 1790 and 2018 eruptions.
- "Volcanoes in the Sea: The Geology of Hawaii" by Macdonald, Abbott, and Peterson.