Poppies and Lupine and Bears, Oh My
by William Etling

The poppies on Grass Mountain have never really matched the stunning spectacle they hosted after the fire in 1991, but they're still putting on a show. Ever-popular milepost 12.7 is a popular hillside near Figueroa Campground that always draws the camera crowd, but this year I wanted to shoot on the steep slopes of that slanted prairie pyramid that for some is a defining icon of the Valley.

I hiked over there in 1992, and took a photo of poppies against the horizon that proved to be the most popular shot I've ever snapped. It made phone books, real estate websites, Buellton brochures, and assorted magazines. Lately I've been wishing it was digital. Now was my chance. Call it Return To Grass Mountain.

Seventeen miles from Panino's in Los Olivos (a vital first stop for provisions) the dirt road frosted with huge tumbling pine cones ends at a stunning scenic overlook. It once continued a little further toward Zaca Lake, and a footpath still does. There's an old car, maybe a Studebaker Hawk, improbably sliding down the hillside a little ways up the ever-narrowing trail that wanders along the steep slopes through manzanita thickets, pine forests, and sunny glades, filled right now with lush lupine and poppies in profusion.

I'm going to call it about two miles over to the top of Grass Mountain. On the way you see the backcountry ranges, and they too have vivid palettes of orange and purple, like enormous splotches of exotic lichen. I saw no bears, but if bears there be, this is the place to be a bear.

The face of Grass Mountain is extremely steep. Ninety degrees is vertical. It felt like about 60-plus degrees to me. I reserve the right to be wrong about that, but there's no doubt it's a stairway to heaven, a solid carpet of blossoms. You don't see the lupine as well from across the canyon, but they're everywhere. Gopher holes serve as steps. In the El Nino rains, numerous slides occurred here as rain sodden slopes let go and catapulted into Alamo Pintado creek. Across the way is a wedding venue, the Figueroa Mountain Farmhouse.

You can see to the Pacific over the Ireland-green grandeur of the Santa Ynez Valley, even peer into the mysteries of the former Neverland Ranch, which is just at the mountain's base. Los Alamos and Santa Maria's agricultural abundance disappear in the haze. A picnic in the shade of the pines is called for, as the sweet perfume of the lupine assaults the senses.

* Here are the pictures.

William Etling is a 42 year resident of Santa Ynez, and the author of Sideways in Neverland: Life in the Santa Ynez Valley.