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Wawamalu. Kaloko Inlet. Ka Iwi coastline. These places, which lie roughly between Makapuu and Sandy Beach, have been in the news the last few years because of controversy over what to do with them.

And until last week, that's about all I knew about the area. The region was far from my home, and when I did go there, I drove right past.

Then some graduate students and their professors from the University of Hawaii's Geography Department invited me to meet them there for a hike. They are studying the area, and I jumped at the chance to learn about the place from knowledgeable people.

And knowledgeable they are. We weren't there 10 minutes when one professor found a rare native fern called Marsilea. This unusual fern looks like four-leaf clovers.

Native plants, I soon learned, were everywhere. Some stubbornly poked up through litter and broken glass; others crept down rutted tire tracks. And in spite of years of human abuse, native growth still holds together a row of ecologically important sand dunes.

Native animals inhabit this area, too. While I was there, flocks of shorebirds pecked the beach for invertebrates, humpback whales spouted offshore, and red-footed boobies skimmed the ocean's surface.

And then there were the turtles of Wawamalu. I've heard stories about these turtles, a distinct population from those of nearby Hanauma Bay, but didn't know where to look for them. Now I do.

Wawamalu is the area around a narrow cove called the Kaloko Inlet, a body of water running from the ocean to the golf course across the highway. The geographers and I stood on a rocky outcrop overlooking this inlet and watched turtles graze.

These turtles are noteworthy because they are free of the tumors plaguing turtles in other areas. Also, the Wawamalu turtles eat unique seaweeds growing near the mouth of the inlet. Further inside is the "bedroom," a quiet-water haven where the turtles like to sleep.

Unfortunately, poachers also know about the turtles' preference for this place. One turtle worker there spotted some men loading a turtle into the back of a pickup truck. When the poachers saw the worker, they released the turtle and drove off.

Usually, however, there's no one watching.

Clearly, this last of Oahu's wild, open coastlines needs help. And progress is occurring. The former landowner, Kamehameha Schools, wanted to develop the area, but conservation-minded citizens pushed the state to buy it and preserve it.

The state, however, used federal highway money in the purchase and must now comply with federal rules, which include building parking lots with safe turnouts.

Blacktop isn't what some conservationists had in mind when they lobbied to save the place. But my experience made it clear that in order to appreciate this rare wilderness, I had to get out of my car. And having native plants and animals pointed out to me was a bonus that made the visit far more enjoyable.

Parking lots may not be natural, but they're the reality of our times. People drive places. If we don't build parking lots, people drive there anyway and wreck the place.

And as we direct cars, so too must we direct feet. Leading from the lots should be sign-guided nature trails to teach people what's special about the place.

I know, I know. They paved paradise and put up a parking lot. But welcoming people to Ka Iwi in a controlled manner, and educating them while they're there, is a good way to respect and protect one of Oahu's last and best wild shorelines.