Sometimes you just need to get away from the madness of living in a post-industrial society. Sometimes you just need peace of mind, and that can be hard to find in places that are paved. Luckily I live in Santa Barbara right now, and the opportunities seem endless for decompressing in an unspoiled environment. We get so used to living with streets and signs and lights and buildings and cars and artificial noise, that we forget that we come from people who lived intermeshed with the land, instead of people who exact their will upon the land.


From many of the flat, low-lying areas of Santa Barbara the peaks of the Santa Ynez Mountain Front Range stand tall and domineering. They are solemn witnesses to the continual growth of the human juggernaut. With such steepness and such fierce topography, they provide a barrier to keep man out of the wilderness that spreads from the backside of the Front Range all the way to the central valley.

But for those who care to dally in the chaparral and sandstone boulders, there are some trails that are simply breathtaking - not in only in terms of brutal elevation gain, but also in terms of the vistas and panoramic views that they provide. Looking up at the guardian peaks one day, I thought, I want to go there! I wanted to be like an eagle sitting above it all, nestled into a rocky nook and meditating on all that lies below. So I went about manifesting that reality with my legs, my heart, some water and a journal and pen to receive my thoughts.


I was on my way to the Rock Garden. From my college days I had heard about this place, a bouldering paradise, a sanctuary up high in the Front Range that provides the athletic hiker opportunities for some challenging and rugged footfalls. The original ascent through the Mission Canyon trailhead is a familiar route, traveled by many, and I was able to share some of my pizzazz with an elderly hiker who claimed: "You will probably be able to hear me huffing and puffing all the way up!" I told him that I was impressed he was out on this steep section of the Tunnel Trail and I was proud that he was out getting some exercise in nature.


On and upward I continued to climb. Next I passed a volunteer trail worker. For the previous half mile I kept noticing smooth slopes seemingly carved into the edges of the trail and providing proper drainage. They seemed to smooth for nature to have carved them and my instincts proved right. He was breaking a sweat with his pick and shovel and doing his part to keep trails like this accessible for nature-lovers like myself. Erosion crushes trails on a daily basis, similar to the slow but indefatigable movement of moraine glaciers. Thanks to his work and others like him, we are able to keep finding nooks and crannies like this one.


Soon I am up above the thick green canopy looking across at a previous hike route that I took only a few weeks ago. Cathedral Peak stared at me at almost eye level from my lookout rock that I pause upon. I had to flex for the camera, feeling stronger than ever, especially after looking at the ridiculously steep trail that I had conquered not too long ago.

But flexing aside, I had to continue to climb, and I was still nowhere near the Rock Garden, so a sip of water and then legs and feet were back at work.

ER Harris