GETTING OFF THE TOURIST TREADMILL IN LAID-BACK LANAI.

Byline: Susanne Hopkins Daily News Travel Editor

There is nothing here.

I don't know what I expected - the pineapple fields are long gone and Lanai does not have a reputation as a wild-and-crazy, fun-in-the-sun type of place, but all I see as the plane zeroes in for a landing on this Hawaiian island between Maui and Molokai is red dirt. Lots of it.

What am I going to do here?

The van to the hotel bumps along a few of the island's 30 miles of paved road, past scrub and errant pineapples drying in the sun, reminders of Lanai's history as a pineapple plantation. There are no skyscrapers, no shopping malls, no stop lights, no hint of a bustling town.

What am I going to do here? A travel writer, after all, needs to do things if she's to have something to write about.

The van pulls up at the hotel - and I know what I am going to do. Relax.

That's what people do in Lanai. This small (18 miles long, 13 miles wide) island of 2,800 people is an oasis for the world-weary traveler who wants off the tourist treadmill, who does not want to get up at the crack of dawn to zoom madly about trying to take in every sight, every activity, every chic boutique.

You don't have to do anything here. And you won't have that horrid feeling that you're missing something - plenty of people are doing exactly the same thing as you.

That's the charm of this place, which only opened to the public in 1990, just a few years before Dole Foods Inc. ceased its pineapple production. Of the 17,000 acres of pineapples that once covered the red dirt, only 200 remain.

These days, tourists are the mainstay of the island (Hawaii Visitors Bureau officials say 92,950 people visited Lanai in 1995). They travel light here: a few good books, walking shoes, swimsuits and, maybe, golf clubs (for the island's two championship courses). They leave their anxieties at home.

Along with some other hotel guests, I take a brief tour of the island with Sol Kaho'ohalahala, a fifth-generation Lanaiian and the Lanai representative to the Maui County Council, which governs the island.

Sol points out Pu'upehe, or Sweetheart Rock, near Manele Bay, a giant rock jutting from the azure sea. There's a sad, romantic tale attached to this rock. Near here, legend has it, a beautiful young maiden named Pu'upehe was kept in a sea cave by the man who kidnapped her - and with whom she fell in love. One day, there was a great storm and the maiden was drowned in her sea cave. The man buried her atop this rock (where, says Sol, the burial ground can still be seen), then leaped to his death.

``But their love will last until the stars die,'' Sol says, prompting a collective sigh from our group.

We drive along the narrow, winding road and suddenly, we're in what is called the uplands, the area at 1,600 feet elevation where much of the largely dry island's rain falls. It's greener here, with lush mountains; Norfolk pine trees stretch to the sky. Sol tells us they were brought here by a New Zealander, as was the bouganvillea that splashes its color here and there.

And he tells us that in 1922, a fellow named James Dole purchased the entire island for $1.1 million and turned it into a pineapple plantation. And thus it remained until the 1990s.

He drives us out to an overlook, where we can see not only both the islands of Maui and Molokai but a rusting Liberty ship that got stuck during World War II on a coral reef. We don't go any closer to the wreck; we'd have to have a four-wheel drive vehicle to plow through the rough dirt road and the plentiful kiawe trees leading here.

Which is just about the case on much of the island. A jeep is the preferred mode of travel. That's what you'll need to see such sights as the Halulu Heiau (sacred temple), terraces of ruins that were once the summer home of King Kamehameha I; Kahehili's Leap, where warriors once sought to prove their courage by diving - past a 15-foot outcropping - more than 60 feet into the water below; and Kaunolu Village, the site of an ancient fishing village. It's advisable, too, to use a four-wheel-drive to reach the Garden of the Gods, a lunarlike landscape with weird lava formations jutting out of the red earth.

Sometimes, though, you just have to be on foot. To see the Luahiwa petroglyphs, for example, you have to drive a ways over bumpy dirt roads, then climb an almost vertical cliff.

We return to the hotel via Lanai City, a rustic town of Hawaiian bungalows with washboard-like tin roofs built in the 1920s. This was a plantation town and just about everyone who lives on the island today lives in Lanai City. Here, you'll find not only schools, churches and Hotel Lanai, one of the three hotels on the island, but also a few general stores, an arts and crafts shop, a florist and a police station with a jail that looks like several Andy Gump portable toilets strung together.

Back at Manele Bay Hotel, we take advantage of the spa, swim, lounge by the pool, snorkel or play golf. Nobody appears rushed to do anything. By midday, I'm on my way via shuttle bus to Manele Bay's sister resort in the uplands, The Lodge at Koele, where I'll stay the night. It's raining here, which reinforces my belief that Lanai is an island of contradictions.

They're serving tea in the music room at Koele; I select a few delicacies, pour myself a steaming cup of tea and sink into one of the cushy chairs near the bay window. I'm soon joined by a couple from Maui and her sister from Ohio. They've come just for overnight. It's something they do periodically, they say. They love the slow-motion feel of this island.

It's doubtful that will change, I say.

While villas selling for $400,000 to $1 million are in the works, there are no plans for major shopping centers, more hotels and resorts or the cultural trappings that go along with being a tourist destination, say officials for Dole Foods Inc. Dole owns 98 percent of the island; controlling interest in Dole is held by David Murdock of Los Angeles, chairman of the board and chief executive officer.

The Maui folks smile. ``Oh, good,'' they say. They like the fact that the biggest decision they'll have to make on this island is whether to take the shuttle to Manele Bay Hotel or stay here at Koele.

I don't tell them that it was on Manele Bay where I found the essence of Lanai. Earlier in the day, I walked about a half-mile up a trail of lava rock to a point off Manele Bay, to see Pu'upehe's rock. There it stood, looming out of the water, a dark symbol of heartbreak. I turned my gaze inland and spotted a small beach. No footprints marred its pristine sands.

And that's Lanai - a place of legends and places yet to be discovered.

On Location Where you stay on Lanai may dictate at least some of what you do - or don't do. There are three hotels here: the sister resorts, the Lodge at Koele, in Lanai's cooler area called the uplands, and Manele Bay Hotel, on the edge of a lovely beach near Pu'upehe, or Sweetheart Rock; and the little Hotel Lanai in Lanai City. And there are also a few bed-and-breakfast-type establishments.

At the two resorts, there is a wealth of activities every day, from deep-sea fishing, tennis and horseback riding to arts and crafts, a visit to the spa at Manele Bay and tea at the Lodge at Koele. Manele has the beach and the spa, Koele has the mountains and croquet. In addition, both offer championship golf courses: The Experience at Koele, designed by pro golfer Greg Norman, is an 18-hole, par-72 mountain course, while The Challenge at Manele, designed by legendary golfer Jack Nicklaus, is a links-style course built on natural lava outcroppings.

You can play both: A shuttle ferries guests between the two hotels.

The 11-room Hotel Lanai is nestled in Lanai City; there is a dining room on site.

For more information, contact the Hawaii Visitors Bureau, Kauai Island Chapter, at [phone].

CAPTION(S):

Photo, Box

Photo: (Color) Jutting out of the azure waters of Lana i, Pu'upehe, or Sweetheart Rock, is one of the island's legendary landmarks.

Box: On Location (See text)