Wrestling with caged lion syndrome, I cast my fate upon the encroaching foothills looming above Santa Barbara’s Westside: Cathedral Peak, La Cumbre Peak, the darkened silhouette of these Santa Ynez Mountains sloping into the heaving ocean. A crazed lust to jam outside and overlook the sea overwhelmed my concern about trail safety and the wisdom of setting forth after major rains. A few acquaintances wonder that a guy closer to 80 than 70 still charges into the front-country whenever possible, but they’ve no idea of the precautions I take and the indignities an aging body accepts.

In my small fanny pack (with two water bottles attached on the side) one finds: a tightly wrapped rain shell, sandwiches, fig Newtons, a power bar, extra socks, sunglasses and a medical kit. I set out wearing long johns and donning warm gloves, along with an extra-warm wool cap. (Nope, no cellphone or any electronic devices like my Garmin GPS.) 

Notably, my medical kit holds all the potions this body needs to keep going, including: ibuprofen, a muscle relaxant tab, arnica cream, bandages and more. We had given veteran hiker friends the details of our itinerary.

There’s little levity in admitting I need most of this, but in order to get myself out onto the metaphoric Trail of Life I must begin at the beginning, as the King says in Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” (4.1.1), so setting up hikes like the Tunnel trek means these items must be toted. (Note: I almost never take the muscle relaxant, but the arnica cream and ibuprofen are necessary right after most longer hikes, following a meal and plenty of water.)

“Caged lion syndrome” erupts because of staying off local trails in the downpour, but there are a few hiking options even in rain and mud (here’s one). While I had read in some Santa Barbara publications about local trails being closed because of our heavy recent rainfall, there are ways to get into the front-country without entering against “closed” signs, taking excessive risks or damaging the trail.

Twice this month I’ve headed up the continuation of Tunnel Road, where there are legal parking spaces for about 15 cars at the top (4.1.1. for driving directions). You see in the first photograph that this hike is open and continues on asphalt for the first three-quarters of a mile — you will note fallen boulders, some mud, and should wear heavy hiking boots for footing.

My hiking colleague and I set out to explore Tunnel Trail itself in late January, and the trek (and dirt trail) begins after hiking the three-fourths of a mile on the aforementioned asphalt. During this very scenic portion, you also pass over the sturdy wooden bridge housing the actual tunnel that brings water to Santa Barbara from Lake Cachuma.

We easily skirted the mud and standing water and imagined the forces that led to the presence of large boulders like the one pictured. Another photograph shows the important netting that holds the cliff back just before crossing that wooden bridge, and still higher up hikers can observe the gnarly “dragon’s back” formation leading up to 3,200-foot Arlington Peak (with Cathedral Peak behind it to the northwest).

Although I have scrambled up to Arlington Peak en route to Cathedral and eventually La Cumbre Peak, it’s officially closed right now but also extremely challenging in any weather conditions. We stared at Arlington with awe and great interest.

After a leisurely stroll, we encountered a large clearing with a huge information board and a helpful map, a portion of which you see in the photograph. Most hikers continue on the main dirt track from here in order to get up to Inspiration Point and where the Jesusita Trail ends at the top.

We picked out a very small, old-style iron sign indicating the Jesusita Trail just up the track beyond the larger map plaque shown here. Do not follow the arrow on this iron signpost but face right and look into the chaparral. You will then easily detect a well-used dirt trail that is, in fact, the true beginning of the Tunnel Trail framed by fragrant white ceanothus bushes in bloom.

While this trail runs all the way to the top at Camino Cielo Road, our deliberately vague goal was to roam upward until it became unsafe, impassable or there were any “closed” signs. We observed no posted “closures,” so we kept on ascending, while remembering to linger here and there to savor our Mother planet.

This section becomes quite challenging, and we were lucky to have a dry day. Despite the austere sunlight, the temperature never rose above 60 degrees. (At 7 a.m. when we started, it was 38 degrees.) We enjoyed more splendid views out to sea, down into Mission Canyon, and upward to 4,000-foot La Cumbre Peak topped by its Matilija sandstone and crowning glory of noble conifers.

Footing was a bit treacherous at times, but there were many long stretches of pristine trail marked by other hikers who had recently made this trip. Some extremely rocky sections required careful steps — I needed the hiking poles here, but my colleague did not — and we could see we weren’t making the path worse with our passage.

Approximately 2.5 miles from the parked car, we came to the key trail junction marked by two helpful signs. One sign makes it clear that you need to trek two more very steep miles on the continuing Tunnel Trail in order to reach Camino Cielo Road — not our goal this day. The second sign, right next to the first, indicates you will reach Las Canoas Road (at Skofield Park) in two miles, but I think it’s closer to 2.5 miles. You are leaving the Tunnel Trail here. Ignore the reference to Gibraltar Road, which would require more uphill again after turning at Tin Shack Meadow nestled in Rattlesnake Canyon (see map above).

At the two signs we faced a choice, but the lack of a posted “Closed” notice made it easier. We chose to clamber down to Tin Shack Meadow (one mile on the so-called Tunnel Connector) just to see if it was passable. It was OK, with a few scrambly sections. Using my sticks with care, I avoided making the trail worse, and sometimes it was hardly there at all so this involved a bit of arduous rock-hopping.

Once we made it to enchanting Tin Shack Meadow in Rattlesnake Canyon, we took a few minutes to rest up and to munch sandwiches and drink water. Everything was wet, so sitting wasn’t much of an option. After the blessed silence on the mountain, we also enjoyed the roar of the gushing creek on our left.

We then had to mull over another trail choice at this meadow — return back up one steep mile of the Connector and retrace the 3.5 gnarly miles to our vehicle on Tunnel Road or continue our descent knowing we might have to bag it if the trail was too gnarly or if it disappeared.

We sauntered on down into the riparian wonderland of the beautiful canyon. My first venture into Rattlesnake had been in 1971, so its very familiarity reassured me now as I clambered down with my hiking colleague.

Three of the creek crossings were difficult, thus I do not recommend the second half of this hike until the water has subsided even more. Still, arrogant veterans that we are, we forded every crossing without getting anything but the boots wet, assisting each other thoughtfully. About halfway down this 1.7-mile stretch, we encountered our first hiker. He said it had been easy going, and he’d seen about ten other hikers in the lower reaches.

We arrived at the Rattlesnake Canyon Trailhead on Las Canoas Road about five hours after setting out from Tunnel Road — a beautiful and energizing day! Only as we exited Rattlesnake Canyon near the Stanwood Bridge did we notice that Rattlesnake Canyon Trail had been posted “Closed.” It is written that there are dangerous water conditions, and I agree this is so for inexperienced or foolish hikers. By Jan. 20, the water had receded substantially but still ran swiftly and would be challenging for newbies or the reckless.

We had dropped a second car near Rattlesnake Canyon in the odd event we could get through but had not noticed the posted “Closed” signage at the bridge (it was dark at 7 a.m.). In other days, I recall seeing bright yellow tape across the entrance. Had we noticed these signs, we would have not hoped to complete the hike at Rattlesnake Canyon and would have turned our efforts at the top and simply hiked back to the first vehicle.

This 5.5-mile jaunt was fairly exhausting, and I repeat my recommendation that prospective hikers attempt only the first portion beginning at the top of Tunnel Road, with a return back to Tunnel Road from the trail sign with “Trail Forks” written on it (next to last photo here). I do not think we damaged the trail, and if the authorities were more consistent they would have posted something at the onset of the actual dirt Tunnel Trail.

Caged lion syndrome often occurs in periods of rainfall, and some of our trails do not have “Closed” signs on them, not only the Tunnel Trail. It’s also hard to believe all of this backcountry will remain closed for the stated “two months,” and adventurous folk will find their ways into our glorious hinterlands. Let’s hope that the various agencies will reopen some of the trails soon.

4.1.1.

Drive up Foothill Road (Highway 192) and then turn north on Mission Canyon Road toward the Santa Barbara Botanic Gardens; turn left on Tunnel Road and drive to the end; park on the right side within the clear white line. Please do be thoughtful about the neighbors here, some of whom are irked by thoughtless visitors. Hike straight up the road to the barred gate shown in the first photo.

In “Alice in Wonderland” (1865), Lewis Carroll writes: “‘Begin at the beginning,’ the King said, very gravely, ‘and go on till you come to the end: then stop.’”

— Dan McCaslin is the author of Stone Anchors in Antiquity and has written extensively about the local backcountry. His latest book, Autobiography in the Anthropocene, is available at Lulu.com. He serves as an archaeological site steward for the U.S. Forest Service in Los Padres National Forest. He welcomes reader ideas for future Noozhawk columns, and can be reached at cazmania3@gmail.com. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.