Camino Day 4--6/20/2020

Day Four marked the end of the first half of our Camino de Santa Barbara. At just under 11 miles, most of this day's hike was on our training grounds and very familiar.  Because it was my training trail, I wore my tiger hat today. J has wanted to hike all the way to Montecito Peak from our front door for a long time. Today was the day!

                              

Camino Day 3: Montecito Peak, with an additional spur toward Camino Cielo

Representing Tineo to Borres

Early Saturday we headed out of our own front door as we have done so many times before. As we approached Mountain Drive from below, I saw a Montecito Fire/Paramedic truck pulling slowly around the curve above us. As we reached the top, we saw what I'm pretty sure was a planted "rescue doll" for a training drill. As we have been venturing lately into more isolated areas, I have thought quite often of our local Search-and-Rescue crews. I'm glad they are staying up on their training (and that they didn't have to come pull me out on Day 3). 

"I'm probably going to feel like this in a few hours"--me

Our regular route means about a kilometer on Mountain Drive as we walk about a kilometer to Cold Spring trail. The trailhead looked different from the last time we saw it two weeks ago: a new temporary bridge is being installed. We will soon be able to walk across a bridge instead of fording the creek for the first time since January 2018! 

Same trailhead/different look

                                

I was grateful it was a cool day with a thick marine layer. There's almost no shade on this trail and it can get quite warm on sunny days. After Wednesday's hike, I was mentally prepared for it to be difficult--even though I knew we were "ready" for it. This hike is two miles shorter than what we did on Day 3, but with an additional 430 feet in total elevation. We've hiked the first miles of this trail basically every weekend for at least a year, so I know the route well: where the soil is loose. Where I'm going to wait and get a drink because a better view is coming just a little ahead. I also know the long incline where I'm going to have to regularly stop and let the circulatory system in my right leg catch up on getting oxygen where it needs to go. It's so strange to have the two sides of my body not match up in their ability to function under effort. On the one hand, I'm constantly reminded of my weakness. On the other, every regathered step is a cause for gratitude.

                                            

On Saturday we left that particular rough stretch far behind, though. And I was glad to know where the beautiful views were...even though we couldn't see them through the fog. One popular spot with panoramic views near the power lines looked like this:

                                            

In spite of the occluded distant view, the things closer in were still visible. Thank goodness.

 

The power lines are 1/3ish of the way to the peak. We hiked up past our usual turnaround point (which is the eucalyptus tree closer to the peak) and kept rising. As we made our way up that last stretch, we cleared the fog layer and walked into the sunshine. A benediction.

The last two hundred meters to the top are a scramble up the steep scree-covered slope. Getting to the top in one piece definitely involves endorphins. 

                                

looking back down--the trail up seems to just drop off

We stayed at the top and rejoiced for a bit before heading back down; there weren't clear views of much besides the marine layer, but I was very glad that we had gotten above it. 

One step at a time getting down

After our descent from the peak, we continued toward Camino Cielo for a bit, walking that stretch for the first time and previewing our last day of the trail (I am hoping to hike to Camino Cielo via this route and then down the Tunnel/Rattlesnake route).

Just look at that smooth, smooth path for walking! It was so nice to know that it gets easier going after the Peak. So much easier and quicker than this:

                                            

We hiked back down to the Eucalyptus tree and had lunch sitting on its roots and looking out into the fog again. N. made me a "Camino Shell" a few weeks before our Camino de Santa Barbara began, and I have carried it with me every day. 

 

. 

It was just a beautiful, beautiful day. A hard-work-but-good-work sort of day. Back on our own turf we talked about our usual, stuff-of-life sorts of things: important things but with a flavor of everydayness. And a deep gratitude that days like this get to be included in our everyday category. 

Turnaround point Day 4 (Montecito Peak down there in background)

Today, more than any day on our little Camino so far, I felt strong. Like I can do this. Having walked the early part of this route often on timed out-and-backs, I can remember when one hour from home would barely get me gasping up to Mamre. (It's an oak tree, burned out in 2017 and regrowing since. We have named myriad markers on the trail!). Over months and years an hour has seen us get farther and farther along. Now we regularly go two hours out and two hours back on Saturdays. Sometimes, I feel like "that was a strong hike **for someone whose body has absorbed all that mine has due to cancer and its remedies.**  On this day, our hike felt a little like graduating into having my body back: to losing the asterisks on my hikes. We did a thing. We were given this thing, and it was good. 

back home...the hike ended at our front door. ♡

                                                    

PS I gave J a long-sleeved hiking shirt on his birthday, to experiment with an alternative to constant sunscreen (re)application. Our daughter N. took one look and drily remarked: "Great. Now you can look like a professor even when you're hiking." She's hilarious. And it does suit him.