Surf and Turf

Who would have thought a day that was almost entirely consumed by an angry computer would lead into one of the most complete outdoor Santa Barbara evenings. I wandered to my van unsure and uninspired only knowing one thing, I needed to be outside. I pulled the van over to park on Cabrillo Blvd. The soft fluffy green grass was too much to resist so I ran barefoot a couple length of the ovesized palm laden parkway as a warm up. Then quickly cooled down with a nice open ocean paddle next to Sterns Wharf. The ocean water was perfect not too cool not too warm. After the workout I jumped back in just to float and watch the Brown Pelicans dive bomb the unsuspecting fish too close to the surface. It was glorious and inspiring but I drove away from the beach feeling like I needed more, then it hit me: I'll go for a hike. It was already after 7pm but Inspiration point at the top of Tunnel trail was calling my name. "I might make it to the top before dark," I thought. Santa Barbara Barefoot surf and turf was on.

When I arrived the sun was streaming glorious warm golden beams across the chaparrel and wildflowers blanketing the mountains that make up the Santa Barbara front country. Groups of happy hikers we returning from their hikes as I made my way up. Ocassionally people would comment on the crazy dude running up the trail in barefeet (that's me). The red clay and well worn trail made for a pretty comfy barefoot hike as well as a gorgeous canvas for the wildflowers along the trail. The dark black skeletons of oversized chaparrel burned in the Jesusita fire scatter the hillside like a ambitious Cristo installation. Getting to the top is a rewarded. A view worth a million dollars but free to each and every person willing to look. A view is an amazing thing. Everyone can use it and it never wears out. The sun had just sent behind the mountain range and multi-colored sky created a provided a celestial blanket to compliment the absolute perfect temperature. Apparently going barefoot wasn't enough. I took off my shirt and imagined for a moment what the Chumash four thousand years ago must have experienced, Eden. The smell of bay laurel and sage brush mix in the air to create an elaborate perfume that is sweet and earthy. The birds chatter as they capture their last meal for the day and a large barn owl lands high in sycamore to start the evening hunt. Crickets saw out a few chirps like a violinist tuning their instrument before the symphony, but the frogs don't wait for anything before firing up the whole chorus. Quiet 'oneness' eliminates my thoughts as my feet pad down the trail rubbing the dirt reminding me I am of this earth. This evening: perfection.

From Barefoot in Santa Barbara