Santa Barbara to Santa Ynez - coastal crest ride 5/23

Todd Bryan

Sunday, 5/23/2004, was a day for a ride. Unfortunately I had
no fellow riders lined up, but to make up for the lack of
companionship en route, I arranged to meet friends at a
winery in the Santa Ynez valley across the coastal mountain
range from Santa Barbara. My early morning departure would
allow an early afternoon wine tasting and comraderie.

After packing sandwiches and water, I rolled out of my
driveway in downtown Santa Barbara and pedaled west along
the coast for a few miles. At this time of morning, about
8:45 or so, there were many other cyclists out: some solo,
others in twos or threes. Several of us exchanged cheery
greetings as we all headed to wherever we were heading for
the day. After a few miles I arrived at my first jumping-off
point, the base of the old San Marcos Pass road. San Marcos
Pass is one of three major passes across the Santa Ynez
mountains and it carries the 'super two' lane highway 154.
Bicyclists and others, though, can experience the special
treat of traversing this pass by an older stagecoach route.
The older roads are little used and offer magnificent vistas
as one climbs to and a little above the 2300' pass.

Both cycle and car traffic dwindled to nothing as I started
up the lower half of the climb. Gradually the magnificent
view of the South Coast emerged, and I could see from Goleta
to Carpinteria and out to the Channel Islands. But despite
the clear air near the sea, the pass and its surrounding
peaks were shrouded in clouds and mist. I looked forward to
riding in the overcast for a while. Overcast in the
mountains always reminds me of the Blue Ridge Mountains on
the Tennessee/North Carolina border, on whose peaks I took
many a childhood hike.

At the halfway point, one can look down onto the coast
before crossing busy state 154 and continuing on the
beautiful Painted Cave Road.

http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1669.jpg
http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1670.jpg

While the climb steepens, the road becomes smoother,
narrower, and even more dramatic. As one works over a spur
into Maria Ygnacio Canyon and up into the small hamlet of
Painted Cave, dramatic rock exposures and stunning subpeaks
all range into view. The wild curves provide an ever-
changing direction in which to look, and the updrafts in the
narrow canyons often support circling hawks or at least the
ubiquitous buzzards.

I soon cruised past the Chumash Painted Cave, home of
renowned Chumash glyphs, past the gnarly hairpin curve, and
onward through the village. Fog shrouded the homes and
ranches and no breeze stirred the windmills here. Wanting a
drink of water, I quickly hit East Camino Cielo at the
ridgetop and coasted down to the (still defunct) Cielo Store
where the faucet provided a nice draught. Scuttlebutt is
that the store will reopen soon, but today it was locked
tight so after my drink I again crossed 154 at the peak of
San Marcos Pass and took the tiny, twist Kinevan Road down
to West Camino Cielo, my route for the next 20 or so miles.

The first three miles is mostly a climb out of the pass,
and views are limited. Although there are many popular
picnic, climbing, and shooting areas along the road,
traffic still was non-existent so I enjoyed a peaceful and
quiet climb, sometimes inside a cloud and sometimes in the
sun. Soon enough the gun range hove into view and with
reports echoing, the pavement rolled out from under my
wheels and the dirt rolled in. This section of West Camino
Cielo is a stunning ridgetop fire road, little traveled,
with magnificent vistas towards both the coast and the
Santa Ynez Valley. I stopped at the first dramatic
overlook, where an Anna's hummingbird took offense at my
disruption of her morning meal. She expressed her
displeasure by buzzing as loudly as possible while
investigating me from all angles. Soon enough we both
realized our mutual interest in investigation and not
mayhem, and after my photos were done, I left her in peace
and rolled down into the top of Tecolote Canyon.

http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1673.jpg
http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1676.jpg

Disappointed that no one was there to share the marvelous
views, I babbled away to myself about them. After a while I
reached a familiar stopping place at the top of Winchester
Canyon and sat down to enjoy a sandwich. Upon getting back
up and on the bike, I noticed that I could hear the distant
sound of a motor. Since dirt bikers are sometimes seen on
this road, I assumed one would catch up to me soon. They
arrive and pass so quickly that they leave little dust cloud
and they seem a friendly bunch, always ready with a friendly
wave. But as I listened I realized this was a larger motor
and thus was probably a car. Cars are rare on the road but
are sometimes seen. Finally we got to a section with good
rearward visibility and I saw the machine - a huge
ridiculous new red 'SUV', an Escalade or Tahoe or something.
I could hear it plainly on the straightaway and its engine
was straining, emitting a pained bellow something like an
old dog howling at fire engines or maybe Benjy Compson
hollerin' at the golfers. "What the hell is that guy
thinking?", thought I. I figured he would pass me at some
point and I'd take a break to let the dust settle. But as I
pedaled on, the bellow grew more and more muted and finally
I realized that my 6 or 7 mile an hour pace over the broken
rock, sand, and dirt was faster than the SUV was making.
Soon enough he was back out of earshot, the sun came out
completely, and the sky turned a brilliant blue.

Broadcast Peak at about 4100 feet hove into view.

http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1682.jpg

The road first snakes around the north side of the peak
but then switches over to the south (coastal) side for
the remainder of the climb. One can see plainly the
horse ranches of the valley and the Cachuma Reservoir,
water supply to most of the South Coast. I saw several
yucca plants coming into bloom as the climb started.
From a distance a blooming yucca looks a lot like a
person out in the chapparal, so I had some fleeting
companionship at times.

But soon I got plenty of companionship. A few minutes into
the climb I caught up to a group of three SUVs slowly
pounding their way up the mountain. These guys had antennas
and ham license plates, so I figured they were headed to
Broadcast Peak to work on the repeaters there. But there are
easier ways to the peak, and the trucks had been retrofitted
with large tires...

I passed all three, exchanging greetings, as they bounced,
smashed, and floundered across the ruts and rocks. Soon
enough they were also out of earshot behind as the more
rural coast around Gaviota came into view. Magnificent! This
area is one of my favorites in Santa Barbara County - truly
stunning in beauty, and not heavily visited.

Past Broadcast Peak with its repeaters and transmitters and
long-distance microwave links and on to Santa Ynez Peak at
4200 feet, I reached the high point of the climb. Curious
about the observatory on Santa Ynez Peak which I had ridden
past many times, I climbed the extra 200 feet up to the
installation only to find an unmarked compound surrounded by
chain link and razor wire. An outhouse, weather station and
microwave antenna sat around the main observatory dome. I
saw no signs or markings whatsoever. While I had assumed
this was an academic or community observatory, it certainly
didn't seem that inviting. After returning home and delving
into the matter I discovered the observatory isn't for
astronomy but rather is an optical tracking station for
Vandenberg AFB rocket and missile launches. There is a 24"
Newtonian inside, and the microwave link is probably for real-
time video transmission. I guess the chances of ever using
that scope to gaze at the moons of Jupiter are nil.

http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1687.jpg
http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1689.jpg

Back on paved road I bombed down the fantastic stretch into
Refugio Pass, meeting up with Refugio Road near the upper
entrance to the Reagan Ranch, 'Rancho del Cielo'. There was
a cyclist couple here but as they were apparently having an
uncomfortable moment I started on down the unpaved north
side of Refugio Road into the Santa Ynez Valley. Blackberry
bushes grew along here, but it is still much too early for
fruit and I don't have a good idea of what the off
California seasons do to blackberries anyway. We always pick
them in July back home.

At the bottom of Refugio I started across the many fords
and bridges and soon I saw the first snake of the day! It
was one of my favorites - the wonderfully marked California
king snake.

http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1692.jpg
http://pompone.cs.ucsb.edu/~bryan/photos/trb1693.jpg

This little guy was out in the middle of the road but both
he and I had to scramble when a Toyota Land Cruiser, rigged
with large tires and jerrycans and driven by two guys with
grim expressions, careened across the bridge. I moved on,
rolling past the Sunstone and Rideau vineyards and into
Santa Ynez, where I got a coke and had lunch in the
visitor's dugout at Santa Ynez High School.

From there a few short miles took me past the miniature
donkey farms and chic hotels of Ballard and finally to the
Buttonwood Winery where my girlfriend was waiting with fresh
homemade cookies. We spent the rest of the afternoon
enjoying the wine, the cookies, and the stunning day. It was
a short ride at 53 miles and probably no more than 6000'
climbing. I look forward to making some loop trips into the
valley along this route soon.

--
Todd Bryan Santa Barbara, CA bryan at cs dot utk dot edu