I’m one of those crazy people who are drawn to lava. This year, I witnessed one of the rarest shows on Earth.

Today we see tourists getting close to fountaining lava on Kilauea on the Big Island of Hawaii or in Iceland and some of us want to go.

Since I’m one of those crazy people who are drawn to lava, I’ve been asked to share our eruption watching experience in Hawaii two months ago.

First, we must understand that all volcanoes are different. Mt. Vesuvius which wiped out Pompeii is a composite volcano. That is the same kind as Mt. St. Helens — and they are not to be trusted. Composite volcanoes which have that classic, pyramid volcano shape are known for their explosive eruptions that involve lots of ash called tephra and super heated gasses in addition to lava flows and lots of explosions. Anyone who does anything but run is either crazy or a poor geology graduate student gathering samples. Composite volcanoes are best watched from a distance, a big distance.

Kilauea, on the other hand, is a “shield” volcano, which is not your classic volcano shape. Called a “drive up” volcano, Kilauea is a huge, flat dome with a summit caldera and a bunch of craters or small ash cones over its surface. Lava generally flows out any of the craters or from fissures or cracks that form nearby.

Credit: AP

Credit: AP

Shield volcanoes are island-building. They can be violent and eject tephra but it is generally on a smaller scale near the crater or fissures. All volcanoes have steam and invisible, poisonous gasses. Warnings must be obeyed — all volcanoes are dangerous.

People who go to Hawaii expect to see a big cone like Vesuvius, but instead they see from their airplane windows a domed, rocky wasteland hundreds of miles wide, like the Kona side of the Big Island. Only where the lava is old will there be a tropical paradise growing in the fertile soil. That is generally on the Hilo or east side of Kilauea.

When I went to see Kilauea in 1985, the lava fountain was from a new crater far from civilization. The only way we got to see the orange glow was from an airplane. The lava was fountaining 300 feet high from that crater on Kilauea and from a mile-long fissure on its neighboring mountain Mauna Loa, an even bigger shield volcano. It was a rare simultaneous eruption.

In 1991 at Kilauea we hiked to see where the lava from that eruption was going into the sea. Because the lava was flowing slowly, folks were allowed to hike across the rocky wasteland to see it.

However, we still could not get very close. Even a dozen yards away it was hotter than a huge bonfire. The sheer mass of moving, molten rock at 2,000 degrees was intimidating. Thrown bottles had melted on it. When the lava flow encountered a tree the trunk just burst into flame. The lava flow did not roar. The only sound was a tinny crackling as the slivery crust that formed on the surface of the lava flow broke apart. And there was an ever-present smell of rotten eggs — sulfur gas.

We also visited a neighborhood we had seen in 1985 that had since been covered by the lava flow. The old, cooled pahoehoe lava looked like fudge turned to stone. The rough “a’a” lava looked like 10-foot walls of black furnace clinkers and had pushed over anything in its way like a bulldozer. All that remained of the neighborhood was tin roofs on the surface next to melted hunks of rusted iron that had once been cars. Luckily, a historic wooden church had been moved.

Credit: AP

Credit: AP

This return visit in 2025 was to see new fountaining within the 2-mile wide Halemaumau crater. This summit caldera has been basically the same shape for thousands of years. Sometimes it fills with lava and other times the floor of the crater has dropped by hundreds of feet.

We arrived on the Big Island on Monday evening and were awakened during the night by alerts on our phones telling us another episode of the eruption had begun. We were staying nearby in Hilo and raced to see the fountaining. Since the eruption had just started the traffic wasn’t bad and we found parking at Volcano House, a historic hotel and restaurant on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the crater.

I’ll never forget what we saw.

Hawaiian music was playing as we walked through the lobby to the patio at the back. The covered patio was a hub of activity as people watched the eruption on the other side of the crater. It was raining, but outside on the walkway through the dampness and light fog we could see the orange glow of the 600-foot fountains and hear the jet-engine roar. You could even feel heat on your hand if you pointed at the fountain.

As we watched from the trails and walkways along the cliffs, we would hear the exclamations of tourists in different languages from all over the world. In the distance, someone was chanting in Hawaiian.

We were able to secure a table next to a picture window in the restaurant. I ordered a drink called a “guava flow” — only in Hawaii. It was indeed surreal to dine in elegant comfort with linen napkins while watching the distant eruption. It was the ultimate floor show, and I will forever be thankful for the opportunity.

After lunch we learned of places along the edge of the crater where we could go to get closer. There were two prime vantage points nearer to the fountain. However, as we parked, we could see that the crowd was heading toward us. This fountaining episode was over after only eight hours.

We dropped by the other vantage point and found out it had been closed for part of the episode because winds had carried hot tephra (jagged little lava rocks) and ash, depositing it all over the area. Cars in the parking lot were sprinkled with tephra and something that looked like straight Golden Retriever hair, known as “Pele’s hair,” after the Hawaiian goddess of the volcano. During fountaining, lava can be spun into one- to three-inch long hair-like shards of this volcanic glass. The strands were too fragile to pick up.

As we returned to Hilo, we passed a traffic jam heading to the volcano, but the show was over. I felt sorry for them.

I watched live volcano cam on my phone for the next eight days, waiting, hoping there would be another episode of fountaining. The night before we left we returned to the Volcano Hotel and sat in wicker rockers in the covered viewing room. In the dark, two miles away, the pressure was building. The floor of the crater around the vent was rising. We could see occasional spurts of lava and the orange glow of the distant pool of lava reflected on the clouds of steam and gasses. There was a crew of professional photographers with their huge lenses waiting as well. We gave up in the wee hours; the proverbial “watched pot” did not boil.

On our return flight the next day, my phone got an alert that the new fountaining episode had begun again.

If you are thinking of trying to catch one of Kilauea’s fountaining episodes, remember: Kilauea is not Old Faithful. They say that Madame Pele has her own timing and does not put on a show on anyone’s schedule but her own.

All we can do is put the apps on our phones and be prepared to drop everything if alerts sound to head for the crater. I still have the alerts on and I get notice of eruptions even here in Ohio.

Credit: AP

Credit: AP

Our photos are from a distance and look kind of blurry because of the drizzle and fog, but those with telephoto lenses and more time to wait for perfect weather have been taking some spectacular photos over the last few months. I love the photos that make it look like folks are almost standing on the crater’s edge and looking down into the fountains. That is a fantasy. I’ve stood on those same spots. It is the magic of telephoto lenses that makes it look so close. The watchers were actually a safe distance away.

If you decide to try to see the eruptions in Hawaii or Iceland, here are some tips:

And if you get to see the lava fountains, count yourself lucky. You have indeed witnessed one of the rarest shows on Earth.