Wildflowers of Ojai's Ilvento Preserve

Last month, The Ojai Valley Land Conservancy guided a private hike on the Ilvento Preserve in Ojai, providing hikers with a once a year opportunity to experience the 80-acre property.  I heard about the hike from Rich Handley, Preserve Manager for the OVLC, the nonprofit which owns and manages the property, and decided it was time to get some fresh dirt on my boots.

We made our way to the trailhead which abuts Thacher School just east of the Horn Canyon trailhead at the east end of the Ojai Valley.  About 20 hikers joined the 2-mile trek, with notebooks and pencils at the ready to record wildflower sightings.  The preserves chaparral ridge, known for its dramatic topographical relief, plant diversity and important wildlife corridors, was deeded over to the OVLC by the Ilvento Family in 1997 and became the Conservancy’s first successful land acquisition.  Rich served as our guide and plant expert for the 2-hour botanical expedition.

Though 80% of the preserve was burned in a wildfire in 1999, its recovery has been steady and strong, yielding tremendous spring color and lush green plant life.  Rich pointed out many of the property’s 150 plant species, most of which were in full bloom.  Among the wildflower sightings were: Sticky Monkey Flower, Fiesta Flowers, Chinese Houses, Blue Larkspur, Hummingbird Sage, Wild Peony and Wild Hyacinth.

We marched our way single-file up the narrow trail and soon reached the high point of the Ilvento at 2,024 feet.  We took a moment to take in panoramic views down the valley to Lake Casitas and up to the Topa Topa Mountain and Chief Peak.  Rich pointed out the important geological features of the preserve and its surroundings using an old, but still relevant, Thomas Dibley map.

As we made our ascent, many of us had to stop to flick and swat away dozens of heat-seeking ticks!  It seems that recent rains provided a perfect breeding environment for the little buggers.  Having forgotten one of the cardinal rules of hiking by not dousing ourselves in DEET, we found it necessary to perform an on the spot de-lousing.  Fortunately, no one got bitten, but we all vowed to remember the bug spray next time.

With notebooks filled with flora findings, the wildflower seekers concluded the hike more than satisfied.

The OVLC conducts a series of free guided hikes on their properties, sometimes providing access to areas you normally can’t get to.  Hikes focusing on plant and bird life are offered on a regular basis, and self-guided enthusiasts on horseback or bicycle will also find excellent trails.  For more information on the OVLC or to find out about their guided hikes, check-out their website at www.ovlc.org for dates, times and reservation information.

Published April 2006 in the Sierra Club's Condor Call.

Piedra Blanca

Photo by Bill Snider

For my birthday I got a walking stick and a pair of rock climbing shoes, so I decided to break them in at Piedra Blanca.  This is an easy hike in the Sespe Wilderness, about 20 miles up the 33 from Ojai.  I convinced my husband, Bill, to join me, who always proves to be a first-rate hiking companion (he carries the water).

After stopping at the Wheeler Gorge Visitors Center for a $5.00 day-use Adventure Pass, we continued up the 33 then took the Rose Valley turn-off and drove 6.6 miles until it dead-ended at a day-use parking lot.  There were only about a half dozen cars parked and from the lot we could see the many white rock formations of Piedra Blanca just to the north.

Since the trail is currently being re-routed to rehabilitate the Arroyo Toad, we knew we would have a couple of extra creek crossings.  So with my Summit Trekking Pole at the ready, I wobbled across with a stealth precision that caused my husband to break out into a sweat as he watched and waited for several minutes ahead of me on the shore.  When I landed with dry feet on the other side, he let out his breath, shook his head and smiled.  We did this twice more, and Bill was equally entertained each time. 

The route is fairly well marked until you come to a fork, which deceptively appears could lead you to the rocks either way.  We went left when we should have gone right, but that was easily corrected with a quick turnaround 10 minutes later.  The trail is relatively flat with a comfortable overall elevation gain of 300 feet.  We trekked about a mile and a half total, mostly through chaparral and manzanita.

And then we landed on the moon. 

It was absolutely spectacular.  Quite suddenly, the landscape changes from thick brush to smooth sandstone.  The breeze was really kicking up, too, but it was welcomed after the brisk hike.  The sun was bright overhead, not a cloud it the sky, so the valley surrounding us looked like you could reach out and grab it.  We found a shady spot to cool off with some water and snacks before setting off on our “bouldering” quest.

I readily spotted several areas where I could scramble around without the need for harness or ropes.  This would be the perfect place to break in my new Sportivas.  In the distance, we caught sight of a lone climber, perched atop the highest rock formation, no doubt taking in a stunning view below.  He must have used ropes to get there.

I started up one rock face and noticed that my shoes did well on the sandy texture.  The slope of the rock inclined enough that I was soon in crawling mode and getting a little high up for my level of confidence (and skill), so I crab- crawled back down to the more level areas of the rock, which were plentiful.  I found my way into an egg-shaped cave, which I just barely fit into.  Bill was busy scouting out the continuation of the trail and snapping lots of pictures.

Having collected a sufficient amount of scuffs on the new shoes, we decided to call it a day.  The return hike was all downhill and the creek crossing less painful for Bill to witness. 

For more information about Piedra Blanca and for a list of locations selling Adventure Passes, check out the Los Padres National Forest website at http://www.fs.fed.us/r5/lospadres/.

Published December 2005 in the Sierra Club's Condor Call.

Potrero John Trail

A gentle giant with hands the size of catchers’ mitts; that was my first impression of Dr. Caballero.  We met in Ojai and he drove us about 25 miles up the 33 from Ojai to the Potrero John trailhead.  The drive nearly did me in and as I fended off car sickness, Dr. Caballero told me how he ended up being the resident expert on 139 day hikes in our area.

For the past 30 years, Dr. Caballero has been a Doctor of Chiropractic with a practice in Camarillo.  A few years ago, his wife invited him to join her and her girlfriend on one of their usual neighborhood walks, and he hasn’t stopped walking since.  His walks, however, took him off the pavement of the neighborhood and into the backcountry, crossing streams instead of sidewalks.  His new hobby not only got him into shape, but with the help of a handheld GPS device and a simple pedometer, he recorded and documented every step to create a comprehensive book of 900 miles of day hikes.  The main reason he hikes, though?  “Beautiful scenery!”  I heard him say this several times.  This is a guy who truly loves the outdoors.

The hike he chose for us on this blistering hot summer day was the Potrero John trail in the Sespe Wilderness of the Los Padres National Forest.  It’s hike number 28 in his self-published book, “Mileage Hiking Maps.”  He said we would trek close to 4 miles with a few creek crossings and an elevation gain/loss of 470 feet.  The hike would take us less than 2 hours and was rated as “easy,” which was right up my alley.    

We parked at a small turnout across the street from where the Potrero John and Sespe Creeks meet.  Ours was the only car parked at the turnout, but I could see a few others just up the road on the other side.  I surmised that on a hot day like this, those folks were splashing in the creek and not about to trek a dusty trail for 2 hours. 

Now, I’m no expert when it comes to hiking, which is why I thought it wise to join Dr. Caballero on this hike.  Whereas Dr. Caballero recently hiked his 3000^th mile, I on the other hand, someone who has just recently re-discovered the outdoors, have only logged about 30 this year.  So when he said to be prepared, I of course thought that meant packing Band-Aids for the blisters I would surely get and an allergy pill for the dust and pollen which would no doubt seep into my lungs.  But for good measure I also brought a bottle of water and a camera as proof to my naysayer friends that I did venture into the wilds.

Dr. Caballero popped open the trunk of his car and began loading his day pack with bottled water, paper towels, snacks, an air-horn, a small first-aid kit, a cell phone and a camera.  He also had a large knife clipped to his belt.  Then he doused the both of us with bug spray before clipping his pedometer on and grabbing his walking stick.  I was a bit uneasy now, wondering if we were going on a full marathon or something, so I asked again how far we were going.  Sure enough, it was just under 4 miles.  “Whether you’re going a mile or several, you have to be prepared.”  He couldn’t stress this enough, and his book points to 16 simple yet invaluable ways to be prepared.

The hike started off easy enough and after an awkward attempt by yours truly at scrambling across the creek, we were off.  The trail was narrow and the brush relatively dry, so we tackled it single file with Dr. Caballero in the lead.  We came to another creek crossing and the Doc must have now known he was dealing with a greenhorn, so he gave me few pointers.  “If you start to feel like you are losing your balance, just put your foot in the water!  It’s better to have a wet shoe than a twisted ankle!”  So with the grace of a ballerina on Quaaludes, I teetered my way over a couple of rocks and got half way across when my coordination inevitably failed me.  My arms started flapping about wildly as I tried to regain my composure, then I remembered Doc’s advice and immediately stuck one foot in the water.  It worked, I didn’t fall!  So with one wet shoe I slogged on.  Squish, step, squish, step.  Knowing we had about 20 more crossings ahead of us on the hike, Doc handed his walking stick off to me to ensure I stayed dry.

The trail took us through a narrow canyon, with sheer rock faces and tiny caves towering above us.  We were lucky to have so much shade along the creek on such a hot day.  We soon came to a meadow and Doc explained the importance of always scanning the trail in front of you, not just looking at your feet.  He emphasized this not only to take advantage of the scenic surroundings, but to be on guard for snakes.  And with the hot weather we were having, it was certainly snake season.

We crossed the creek a few more times.  I think I was getting the hang of it and the walking stick was a big help (this will be on my birthday wish-list).  My shoe was even starting to dry out.  I dunked my hat in the water to cool off – did I mention how hot it was?  I’m pretty sure the temperature was threatening to go into the triple digits.

After passing a hillside blanketed with pines, we started to come around a corner and down a hill when Doc stopped suddenly and motioned for me to do the same.  Sure enough, a snake had popped its head out of the brush on the side of the trail to get a good look at us, just out of striking distance.  “It’s just a garter snake.”  He seemed unfazed, but my heart had jumped out of my chest.  The snake was still doing its cobra dance imitation, so I snapped a couple of photos, which I later learned didn’t turn out because I was so nervous.  Doc took the stick back from me to get the snake out of our way so that we could venture on.

Just as I was beginning to think we would never get there, Doc pointed to the prize.  I could hear it before I saw it.  A fantastic waterfall plunging into a shallow pool was our turnaround spot.  Adjacent to the fall was a small campsite with log benches canopied by a couple of heritage oaks.  It was a cool shady spot where we could catch our breath and have a snack.  Actually, I would be the one catching my breath; I think Doc could have gone several more miles.  He took a large bottle out of his pack with a neon green liquid.  He swears by 2 parts Lemon-Lime Gatorade mixed with 1 part Minute Maid Orange Juice as a mid-hike source of energy. 

The return hike was much easier since it was all downhill and I had the savvy to navigate the creek.  On the drive home, Doc told me about the hiking club he founded which provides twice-monthly guided hikes to the trails featured in his book.  Membership in the Hueneme Hiking Club and the hikes are free.  When he dropped me at our meeting point, he invited me to join him and his hiking club members on future hikes.  I accepted and promised I would bring my own hiking stick! 

To order his book, “Mileage Hiking Maps” (also available on CD), or to join the hiking club, contact Dr. Caballero at 805-684-1504 or cdocrose@aol.com.  Or check-out his website at www.geocities.com/oxnardhiker.

As published in the Sierra Club's Condor Call October/November 2005.

UCSB Rock Wall

When John Hankins invited me to join him for a rock climb, I didn’t know our adventure would be taking us to the campus of UCSB.  A bluff-top university teeming with surfing book worms just wasn’t the first place I would have imagined for a climb.  But as it turns out, UCSB has just opened a state of the art indoor climbing facility.  Since I had only done a couple of beginner climbs on the real thing, I thought an indoor climb would give me an opportunity to improve my skills.

John brought along Eric Lohela, a philosophy senior at UCSB and rock climbing enthusiast.  Eric was happy to show us the ropes, so to speak, and gave us a quick tour of the new MAC (Multi Activity Center).  This new facility is the result of a recent expansion of the Recreation Center, and includes a huge fitness center, locker facilities and the climbing wall.  Students have free access to the facility, but the community can access it by paying a day use fee of just $8.00.

When we arrived at the climbing facility, I was immediately impressed with the wall’s height.  Looming overhead at 30 feet, I also couldn’t help but be a bit intimidated.  Hector was on staff and took time to get us acquainted with two pages of “Rules and Risk Management.”  I signed the waiver, agreeing that I would not engage in any horseplay or chew gum.  More importantly, as a novice climber, I could be “on belay,” but I could not be a “belayer.”  That is, I could climb with a rope clipped onto my harness, but I couldn’t be the one holding the rope below.  Personally, I’m not even sure how I was allowed two feet off the ground.

Hector gave Eric and John a quick belay test, which they passed with flying colors.  I was thankful for that, since each would belay me shortly.  We looked for the easiest route and after a simple knot-tying lesson – I say simple because it only took me a half-dozen times to learn – I had the rope secured to my harness and started up the wall. 

I quickly gravitated toward the grey holds because they were about as easy as climbing a ladder.  When I got above the red line – at about the 10 foot mark – there were fewer grey holds.  My pace slowed a bit, and I tried some of the other colors, each usually leading me to my now favorite grey hold.  At about half-way up the wall, I was stumped.

“Try the blue one near your knee!” John urged.  I looked down and assessed the blue one.  It was about the size of a dime and with a shoe size of 9½, I let out a nervous laugh and shrugged it off.  I opted instead for the red one.  This was a mistake. 

In rock climbing, I’ve come to discover that there are two ways to make a decision.  The first one involves short term planning, as in, “That looks like an easy place to put my foot, so I think I’ll go for it.”  The second way involves long term planning, as in, “Now that I’ve put my foot here, I realize there is nowhere to put my hand.”  I, of course, employed short term planning with my decision to go with the red hold.  With my hands now at waist level and my foot precariously perched on the red hold, I had no choice but to rest my cheek on the rock face.  I should also mention I’ve decided at this point that I much prefer real rock to this somewhat slippery substitute.  With my face keeping me from falling to my death (John reminds me that I’m clipped to a rope), I decided to back track a bit.  Following John’s advice, I used the dime-sized blue hold and in doing so, was able to grasp the coveted grey hold (in rock climber lingo they call this a “bomber” hold).  Feeling pretty good about myself, I continue on, then I slip.

I think this was a pivotal event for me.  Having done this climbing thing only a couple of times, I had never experienced what it was like to slip.  My knees crashed to the wall and my hands tightened.  Leveraging myself against the tension of the rope, I pulled myself up and got my feet into place.  I made a couple more moves, but could see that the degree of difficulty was increasing.  Still a bit shaken, at just over 20 feet up, I let John know I was ready to come down.  When I landed, I was surprised at how much my fingers tingled.  I guess I was really holding on tightly.

John and Eric each made a couple runs up the wall, showing how an accomplished climber does it.  I was intrigued by their movements.  So fluid and graceful and with a deliberate rhythm; it could have been choreographed.  I’ve often heard rock climbing compared to dance.  They made it look so easy.

I relayed my experience to an avid rock climber in Ojai.  Ian Potter of Trails by Potter leads climbing excursions for all levels.  He urged me to use the climbing wall as a means to improve strength and agility, but not to substitute it for the real thing.  “Climbing walls can give a false sense of security.”  This seemed to echo what the staffers at UCSB are teaching.  Their adventure programs offer a few hours of in-class instruction, but they are always followed with a full day conquering the real thing in the outdoors.

The rock wall is a great way to improve your physical abilities and get to know the gear.  After you have spent some time learning basic moves and conditioning the muscles that are most often used for this sport, get out there!  There are so many opportunities locally to experience rock climbing out in the open air, with the sun overhead and a cool breeze pressing you on.  I’ll see you at the top!

Published August 2005 in the Sierra Club's Condor Call.

The Greenhorn Trailblazer

The Ventura River-Rancho El Nido Preserve boasts miles of well-maintained trails weaving through its 1,590 acres of protected open space in the Ojai Valley.

I recently took a four-mile trek on one of the preserve’s trails reserved for guided hikes only.  I’m a bit of a novice to this hiking business, having only treaded lightly on the valley’s more popular trails including the Pratt Trail and

Shelf Road

.  Since those jaunts yielded a fit of hay fever and gigantic heel blisters instead of the spiritual oneness with the land I had heard so much about, I sought to better prepare myself for this one.  I had new hiking shoes, which normally is a sure-fire way to get a blister, but I wore them to work the week before to break them in (not exactly high-fashion office attire, by the way).  I also took a Claritin before venturing out into the pollen-ridden wilds.  So with my fanny-pack chock full of band aids, water and a camera, I met up with Rich Handley at the Riverview Trailhead just off

Rice Road

.

Rich is the Preserve Manager for the Ojai Valley Land Conservancy (OVLC), the nonprofit which owns and manages the property.  Through a grant with the Coastal Conservancy and generous member donations, the OVLC acquired this land in June of 2003.  Rich and others affiliated with the OVLC have started conducting a series of free guided hikes on the property, providing access to areas you normally can’t get to without an OVLC guide.  Hikes focusing on plant and bird life are also offered on a regular basis, and self-guided enthusiasts atop four legs or two wheels will also find excellent trails.  Dogs are welcome, too, as long as they are on a leash…with an owner at the other end. 

On this particular hike, we had only one other participant, so we were afforded a personalized experience at our own pace.  Rich drove us over to the start of the Oso Ridge Trail, which begins on an easement bordering the private residential neighborhood of Rancho Matilija and abuts the Los Padres National Forest.  As we began our ascent, I quickly discovered what is meant by, “moderate to strenuous elevation gain,” as was described on the website.  Fortunately, I had gotten back to the gym after the holidays and the lung capacity was holding strong, for the moment.

The trail was cut wide enough for the three of us to comfortably walk side-by-side over firm soil and sandstone (sturdy hiking shoes are recommended).  Many of the trails had already been cut as firebreaks years ago, and the OVLC employs a local organization, C.R.E.W. - an environmentally oriented nonprofit that provides paid opportunities to disadvantaged teens - to keep the chaparral at bay.  

Shortly after we began our uphill trek, a coyote darted out in front of us, his winter coat still full and thick, trotting along the trail while keeping us in his sights before ducking back into the chaparral.  Throughout the hike, Rich pointed out further evidence of wildlife; we saw tracks left by deer and fox, as well as piles of feathers strewn about for several yards – apparently one of these critters had their breakfast already!  I held my breath and asked about mountain lion sightings and Rich told us that although there were sightings last year near the river bottom when the trail first opened, none were exhibiting threatening signs.  Nonetheless, this is one of many reasons hikers should bring a partner.

We came to a crest and Rich gestured to an abundance of black and purple sage, as well as a lupine that just came into bloom.  He told us that next month, the preserve will be blanketed with a beautiful display of wildflowers (hello Claritin), but we could already see colorful blossoms dotting the landscape.

We finally arrived at the highpoint, 1,320 feet, and all of the huffing and puffing was suddenly worth it.  Surrounded by spectacular vistas on all sides, our reward for “strenuous elevation gain” presented itself in stunning fashion.  We took in sights of the Ventura River with rarely seen water flowing through it from the recent storms, verdant meadows and the Topa Topa Mountains.  We then looped into the Chaparral Crest Trail and began our steady descent.

As we neared the end of our journey, Rich snuck us off the path and into the direction of the sound of running water.  The preserve has six year-round springs and we found our way over to one of them.  Rich deftly maneuvered the bank of river rocks, then turned to watch me crab-crawl my way down with less than stealth agility.  I stood up and found myself in a hidden sanctuary with a small waterfall trickling down into a 4 foot pool of clear, cool, pure spring water with a canopy of lush plant life encircling us overhead.  On a hot summer day, this would indeed be a welcomed oasis.

Two hours after we began our brief expedition, Rich dropped me back at my car (sans blisters I’m proud to say) and showed me a map of the preserve’s trail systems.  It seems that our four-miler barely put a dent into all of the miles of charted trails meandering through the property and available for public use.  Suddenly I had quite a to-do list in mind, which will keep me trekking for several more months to come. 

For more information on the OVLC or to find out about their guided hikes, check-out their website at www.ovlc.org for dates, times and reservation information.

As published in the Sierra Club's Condor Call, April, 2005.

Hiking Ojai's Trails

It wasn’t all that long ago that the very idea of a hike conjured up fits of hay fever and blisters.  But after a dose of Claritin and a careful application of Band-Aids, I got out there and have been trekking the trails of Ventura County’s backyard ever since.  The Ojai Valley is surrounded by the Los Padres National Forest, boasting miles of easily accessible trailheads.  So fold-up that treadmill (who wants to watch those flashing lights anyway?), head up the 33 and out into nature to get the blood pumping!

Sierra Club Articles

Click here to read the following articles written for the Condor Call, a local publication of the Sierra Club.

Greenhorn Trailblazer
UCSB Rock Wall
Portrero John
Piedra Blanca
Whale Watching
Ilvento Preserve
SAMO Youth
Urban Hike

Rock Climbing Article

As published in the Ventura County Star, circulation 100,000, June, 2005: 

Juan Carlo / Star staff Lisa Snider, 36, of Ojai topropes at Foothill Crag in Ojai with her climbing guide, Ian Potter, below. Snider, "infected with a burning desire to know Ojai's innermost secrets," as she put it, decided to go on a rock-climbing mission even though she had never done any rock climbing before. Fast facts What: A 20- to 30-minute hike from downtown Ojai just off the Pratt Trail. Bio: Lisa Snider is 36, a six-year resident of Ojai and former hotel executive turned government employee. Her interests include writing, traveling to exotic locales with her husband of 14 years, swimming with her Labrador retriever and doing pretty much anything quintessentially Ojai. She has a bachelor of science degree from California Polytechnic University, Pomona. Quote: "Make sure you trim your fingernails before rock climbing!" Cost: $65 per person through Ian Potter at Trails by Potter, 646-0382, http://www.hikingojai.com. Juan Carlo / Star staff Potter leads Snider to her first rappel down the Foothill Crag in Ojai. As it turned out, her "style" of descent was more like "inch, scoot, inch, scoot" than the traditional step-hop-jump-fly style used by veteran climbers. Between a Rock and a Novice A first-time climber tackles an 80-foot wall of rock and pure terror. By Lisa Snider, Correspondent June 20, 2005 "You want ME to climb THAT?" I moaned as I stared up the 80-foot vertical incline. I thought I had been exceedingly honest with Ian -- to the point of near humiliation -- about my abysmal lack of skill and experience at a sport where the advice "don't fall" takes on new meaning when you're teetering this close to the edge of exhilaration and insanity. I had never done this before but, having been infected with a burning desire to know Ojai's innermost secrets, I unwittingly set out on a rock-climbing expedition and ended up in this predicament. I found Ian Potter purely by accident on the Internet. He guides a variety of adventures in Ojai, including trail hikes, mountain biking and rock climbing. I dared myself to contact him, and the next thing I knew I was signed up for a climb at Foothill Crag. Now, I'm all for adventure and intrigue, as long as it is seen on the TV from the safety and comfort of my cushy couch. Sure, I go to the gym the obligatory three times a week, but this was just a tad out of my league. I mean, the biggest thing I've climbed is the tower of papers I had to conquer this tax season. OK, I'll admit I rushed out and bought Aron Ralston's book following his TV special with Tom Brokaw on "Dateline."  You remember Ralston; he's the lone climber who got trapped under a rock and had to cut off his own arm to avoid dying there.  You'd think that would have served as a significant deterrent to my self-imposed challenge, but I'm apparently not that astute. Besides, I had no designs on having that grand a tale to tell, no siree; I charged my cell phone before I put it in my fanny pack and hydrated with a few swigs of Gatorade (right after cutting my finger trying to open the bottle). I met Ian, his wife, Stacy, and their dogs Max and Luey at the Starr Market parking lot.  I gave Ian a once-over to make sure he wasn't the kind of guide who would get us into a limb-losing situation. He explained that women are typically better rock climbers than men, particularly tall women.  Though he had keenly observed my Amazon-like stature, he would soon find out he had missed the mark on any perceived athleticism. This occurs to me as I still feel the sting on my finger from the earlier Gatorade incident. Goodbye, solid ground From the parking lot, we ventured up Foothill to the Pratt Trail, and soon I had a 30-pound pack on my back. It felt like 100. Stacy and Luey bid us farewell and we set out on our hike to Foothill Crag with Max, outfitted with his own rope and carabiner, in tow. I was quickly presented with my first obstacle. A usually dry creekbed was now swollen with a shallow tide of water delivered by the recent rains. I made an embarrassing attempt at rock hopping and several near misses as Max looked on impatiently and Ian steadied me with a helping hand. Ian said it would be a short hike, but I'm pretty sure it was longer. We arrived at the bottom of Foothill Crag and that's when reality hit me. I was face to face with a cold gray monolith of sandstone looming overhead. This rock was so tall it had created its own microclimate; it was at least 10 degrees cooler at the rock's shady base. Ian took us around the "easy" way to the top of the cliff. While he set the gear, I caught my breath from the treacherous hike and peered out over the edge to take in the spectacular view of the valley below. And then I looked down! What's the first rule in rock climbing? Don't look down. What's the second rule in rock climbing? Don't look down. Everyone knows that. Well, I blew that one out of the water. Max was curled up under a tree several hundred feet below (Ian corrects me to say it's only 80 feet) and our backpacks looked like coin purses. Ian took a stab at taking my mind off the dizzying height and showed me several different knots, none of which I can remember, although I recall one knot involved a rabbit going down the hole. Maybe it was a Clover Hitch, or was it a Bowline? Good thing this is not "Survivor: Ojai," or I would definitely be voted off. Teetering over the abyss "Rope below," Ian bellowed out to no one in particular. Max was unfazed and continued napping. I think this meant I was in for a rappel. Sure enough, Ian had clipped the rope to my harness and I was soon teetering over the abyss. The technique he showed me absolutely defied all logic and reason. Step backward with a rope around your waist and rest your heels on the edge while your butt juts out over the unknown. Now just lean back. Right! Ian obviously sensed my unease and, to ensure I didn't look down again, he demanded, "Look at my eyes!" And it worked. I just focused and leaned back until gravity took over. Surely my pace was painstaking, but Ian was patient. I inched and scooted, inched and scooted. There were some interesting little caves I had not seen from below. One looked like the perfect den for a critter to hide and lunge out at me, which fortunately didn't happen.  Ian said I could stop and explore if I wanted, but I had my eye on the prize: terra firma. Inch, scoot, inch, scoot. I already had a routine I was comfortable with. Another inch, another scoot and I landed. I unhooked and hollered up, "I'm safe," which is rock climber lingo for, "I did not splatter myself all over the rock." Ian followed, looking like a Special Forces commando. His technique was more of a step-hop-jump-fly style. I guess inch-scoot was too amateurish for him. So now that I was familiar with the rock, it was time for a climb. Ian had rigged a toprope; he was harnessed to one end, the middle of the rope was rigged to a series of pulleylike thingies at the top (more rock climber lingo), and I was clipped in at the other end. He was standing right next to me which I thought was odd. I mean how was he going to pull me up from here? The path is clear Clearly I was going to have to, uh, climb up. The climb started much like a straight up and down wall. There was no place to grab hold or put my foot. I whimpered pathetically, but instead of saying, "Lisa, the tribe has spoken," and extinguishing my torch, he continued to encourage me. He pointed to a 1 mm bump in the rock I could certainly grab onto, but I just wasn't seeing it. Then he demonstrated in Spiderman-like fashion. He chalked my hands up and said, "Go for it!" I wanted to grab onto the rope and pull myself up, which he advised against, so naturally I did it anyway and went into a tumultuous spin. After I bounced off the side of the rock (I'm still on solid ground at this point, mind you), I dusted myself off and tried again. This time, Ian gave me a boost up, and I was climbing. I used the crag to get my holds, which worked out great until I got halfway up. There was a little tree growing out of the rock above me. If I lunged at it, I could grab hold and continue on. What if I miss? I looked down. I know, I know, what's the first rule in rock climbing, yada, yada, yada.  I'm not what you might call the "conquering type." I don't have a "need to triumph over adversity" or any of that sort of ambitious hoopla. I'm mostly interested in maintaining a death-free existence. So at 40 feet up, I began a midair mini-meltdown. Ian kept up the cheerleading charade and rather than deliver stereotypical macho rhetoric, he kindly let me off the hook. Maybe it was the fact that I was dropping expletives at this point, or that I was quivering like a bejeweled Chihuahua that had been separated from its Prada tote, but he said I didn't have to go all the way to the top if I didn't want to. I talked myself into the fact that 40 feet was a noteworthy accomplishment. That's like a three- or four-story building, right? I looked up and thought, "What's the worst that could happen? I can't fall." But soon I found myself creeping backward down the crag. When I landed, Ian praised my effort and suggested we have a cup of tea up top. We spent an hour or so waxing philosophical on everything from healthcare to family to politics. It turns out we both left well-paying corporate jobs -- he was an engineer, I was in hotel management -- to pursue more meaningful endeavors. I then made a second rappel; this time I was a bit more confident. Before dropping me back at the Starr Market parking lot, Ian predicted I'd be back to climb to the top. I think he's right. So, for about $65, you too can climb a rock. Ian is an expert outdoorsman with extensive wilderness first responder training. He guides all levels. On the Net: http://www.hikingojai.com/. -- Lisa Snider is a six-year resident of Ojai and freelance writer with an insatiable quest to uncover quintessential Ojai. You can read her other columns at http://www.findingojai.com/. If you have a suggestion for her, e-mail her at findingojai@aol.com.