Ojai is a small town nestled in a valley up against the Los Padres National Forest. It is full of orchards which grow a variety of fruits: oranges, lemons, limes, avocados and grapes. To a girl from New England who grew up with apple orchards, the notion of an orange grove or avocados just waiting to be plucked off the tree is somewhat foreign.
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After a long day of traveling, my friend took me on a gorgeous hike up in the foothills at the far end of the Ojai Valley. We walked along a mix of national forest trails and horse trails. Beneath my feet, the earth was dry and dusty; a fine rust colored dust quickly covered my shoes and lower legs. The sun shone from overhead and trees were sparse.
The heat there is much different
from the heat back east; there is no humidity. I could feel
the heat radiating from the ground through the soles of my shoes. Shortly into our hike, I am sweating from every pore imaginable, and my
mouth and lips are bone dry.
The hike heads up Horns Canyon and veers right onto a trail that zigzags up the hillside. The views into the valley are impressive. The horizon is ringed by mountains and hills, and far off in the distance is the Pacific Ocean. Today, the only hint of the ocean is the low lying clouds that hang over the coastal area.
Nearing the end of the hike, we head back towards the boarding school and the far-lying riding arenas. My friend’s dog, Bean, nimbly leads the way down the hillside, as my friend and I skid down parts of the steep dirt trail. Upon arriving back on campus, Bean found a water trough to cool off in, which proved to be quite a challenge.
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