happy trails

Here’s random little vignette that appeared in an earlier post, but ended up buried there under a lot of other items:

Santa Barbara: 100 miles north of LA with 41 sq mi of coastline and 90,000 residents.
I lived in “Santa Babylon” for a year, once.

Goleta really. Such a lovely place.
Years later my wife and I used to stay-over in SB fairly regularly.

Visited Goleta & SB on our way up and down the coast last time together in 2012.

So many wonderful SB & SB area memories…

One from long ago: My Sweetie & I were hiking up on the summit ridge-line trail. Lovely day. No one anywhere for miles in all directions. To the west, far down below, the town and the Pacific with the islands shimmering in the sun. Inland, ripples of hills roll away down off into the distant east.
Suddenly along the narrow trail, kicking up a trailing dust-stream comes a slightly beat-up little Datsun sedan. Stops.

Inside, a lovely 25-ish hippie chick with her trusty huge Alsatian shepherd—both warmly friendly, both wearing bandannas round their necks. She’s in bluejeans, hiking boots, a loose funky sweater. Long, loose hair. She & her dog have been on a back-country car-camping trip.

“You two are the first folks we’ve seen in days,” she tells us. She’s been bushwhacking in her car along dirt fire-roads and horse-riding trails for almost a week, running low on water, grub and gas now, though.

The ridge summit is only about 15 feet wide at this point, the trail only 2-3 feet wide.

“How’d you get your car up here?”

“Well, just haven’t wanted to turn around yet, I guess…Seems I’ll have to now, though.”

She doesn’t seem the least bit sketch. Bright and alert yet relaxed. Affable. No tent, a few good books, some literary, some scholarly, well-thumbed, in the back seat with her sleeping bag & water jugs. Long hair, lithe, very toned & fit but not really athletic-looking, more of a bookworm vibe, smiling clear eyes, good smile, sun-kissed, somewhat trail dusty & leafy-haired by now, she’s very pretty.

We chat for just another minute, before she gets back into her car.

We stand by to spot her while she makes an impossible three point turn-around, but she swivels perfectly somehow with each adroitly tight move, and seconds later is trundling back down the trail the way she came.

As she rolls and jostles on out of sight, we both say,

“Wow, now she’s someone we’d like to have along sometime as a hiking/camping companion…”

“Yeah, but all the food & water needed for that big dog would be a lot for everyone to help carry.”




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