Road repaving closed sections of El Cielito Road and Las Canoas Road near Skofield Park for several days in mid-March (it was open for residents), and thus I and many were unable to park and access the Rattlesnake Canyon Trail for hiking.
Since “the Snake” is my favorite in-town trekking path — available for a three-hour jaunt amid green beauty with time enough left to accomplish work in my bourgeois urban life — I felt stymied. (Note: “The Snake” is our only frontcountry trail that bans bikes, and the path itself, therefore, remains in fine shape, and also much safer for children and elders to ramble.)
Nothing daunted, your On The Trail columnist realized this was a route challenge: Find another way down into the lush near-spring flora of this hallowed canyon.
Since I began hiking Rattlesnake in the late 1960s (yes), riffing through archaic memory banks required some deep-time reflection. There are a number of great hikes sprouting off of Gibraltar Road — e.g. West Camino Cielo and “the Playground” (aka Rock Garden) — so I focused there since Gibraltar Road itself lines the eastern borders of the city’s 450-acre “Rattlesnake Canyon Wilderness Park.”
Memory serves, and eventually I recalled a legal access point at 2501 Gibraltar Road. This spot — park along the road and not in the wide asphalt driveway shown in the photo! — is a 0.8 mile up Gibraltar from where El Cielito intersects with it.
Please obey the very clear “No Trespassing” sign that guards the short spur road to the spectacular knoll once occupied by the Mount Calvary Monastery (and Retreat House). The November 2008 Tea Fire completely razed the beloved monastery (as well as 210 homes in Montecito), and the remaining Brothers of the Order of the Holy Cross decamped to the St. Mary’s Retreat right next to the Santa Barbara Mission.
The New Testament’s Matthew 7:14 verse contends: “Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, there be few that find it.” I had to search ancient memories and then drive around some before spotting the “strait and narrow” chain-link gate beckoning the spiritually hungry aspirant seeking a lonely trail amid quiet beauty.
Desperate to get outside and unable to access the usual parking on Las Canoas Road next to Skofield Park, I drove the short 0.8 mile up Gibraltar Road from El Cielito and immediately spotted the small side-gate trailhead. Note in the photograph that the right-side narrow chain-link gate has no lock, and it has been entirely detached from the major gate on the left (with the prominent “Dead End” sign).
As you enter the pristine wilderness, you will also spot a former wooden trail sign carelessly thrown into the dirt. I wonder what this trail had once been called?
While this trail — new to me — is less than a half-mile long as it drops into Rattlesnake Canyon proper, it offers spectacular views of the Channel Islands and Santa Barbara itself. When one has been hiking the same Rattlesnake Canyon Trail for decades, dropping into well-worn visual memories but on a side path like this, just a few degrees of change honestly jogs the imagination and impels deep-time reflections.
The scant March rainfall spruced up the flora a bit, and chaparral plants displayed desperate energy to reproduce in a thus-far drought year.
Once I reached Rattlesnake Canyon Trail proper, I joined it and joyfully hiked up to Tin Shack Meadow (about 1.8 miles). The oaks, the dominant sycamores near the perennial creek, and occasional rockrose all grace the path. Looking over the south-facing slopes, I could see acres of an abundant chaparral plant: the fragrant and gaudy white ceanothus. Colloquially called “mountain snow,” you can see why as the early sun glistens on the masses of lilac-scented white blossoms.
Neither Ray Ford’s excellent frontcountry map nor Craig Carey’s terrific new edition of his hiking book show or discuss this hidden access trail (see 4.1.1.), but there were three other cars there when I parked, so it is well-known to a few locals.
From studying the path, it’s clear that at one time there was a road here; I haven’t been able to figure out the name or when it was carved out.
One of the three lots into which the Mount Calvary Monastery has been subdivided sold in December for $3.5 million. When you consult the real estate company’s website concerning this sale, you can also see what the top of the knoll looks like and the awe-inspiring views from there.
I’m glad that citizens are utilizing this concealed path because once building begins on the lot on top there will always be a temptation to close off this historic access point. “Narrow is the gate into the hiking life,” and community-minded citizens need to use this entrance to keep it viable and open.
4-1-1
» Ray Ford, “A Hiker’s Guide to the Santa Barbara Front Country” (2011); Craig Carey, “Hiking and Backpacking Santa Barbara and Ventura” (second color edition, 2021), Map 8, p. 60; New Testament, Matthew 7:14, King James Version.
— 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.
