Thursday, June 19th. Jas' vigil. Fire Captain. Son-Artiste. Car driver. Deerslayer. Master Electrician and Master Baiter (fisherman, I mean). Boy, did I have a time with "vigil". "Vidual". "Victual". Must be the mad cow. You have to hear about our overnight camping trip at El Capitan, so read on, friend (there's 15 parts to this series, by the way).(Wait! There's more...you don't wanna miss this.)
El Capitan Canyon Campground and State Park (or State Park and Campground?) is about 10 minutes north of Santa Barbara - or Goleta. Our tent. I was impressed - though WE didn't get a bowl of fruit next to our beds like the brochure showed. The one-bed tents had a few more accessories but all-in-all, I was very satisfied. Our showers were 4o yards in back of our tent and were also very nice. The cabins sleep from 2-6; all have indoor baths and some have jacuzzi's. That's another trip. This tent cost $144 per night. There are over 100 cabins and tents - it's pretty expansive. If you don't want the hassles typically associated with camping, this place is for you. "Glamping" is what some refer to it as.
The view from our tent. There were three other tents right around us but this was the closest tent to our south. To the east a road led up to a parking lot an another tent/cabin area. Oh - it was hotter than shit. HOT! Mid-90's...maybe even a 100 where we were.
Now this campground is no schlep of a place. Even my Uncle Bob (who's a National Marketing VP) commented on how nifty the marketing brochure was. This is just part of a 4-page, heavy card stock, fold-out promo piece we picked up in the office. See the bowl of fruit?One thing about El Capitan Campground - they got a lot of rules. Primarily because their clientele is mostly couples and families and they don't want people running around like some children I know turning their place into Burning Man, if you know what I mean. Also, the canyon (as we were informed) is 'ecologically and biologically a unique setting, situated at the "arm" of the State of California', etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah, blah. With that:
1) No smoking. Which we ignored. I had called ahead 'cause I knew Jas and I might whip out a stoggie or two and they said if we were discreet it was fine.
2) No guests. Now I called them ahead of time as my cousins wanted to stop by. The office said fine. We get there and they hem and haw and finally say our cousins have to be out of the park by 9 p.m. They didn't come anyway.
3) No cars in the campground. This is fine. You're escorted to your tent or cabin; you unload; you drive your car to one of three designated parking lots. They don't want the campsites to look like a parking lot. Well, we didn't move our car to the lot quick enough and were called on it. Whatever.
4) No loud music after 10 p.m. Fine - we didn't have any music anyway.
Jason started referring to the staff as "the Nazis" because they'd patrol the ground and we'd have to ditch our "smoothies" (as my cousin Joe says).
"HEY! What do you mean we can't handcuff the three girls in the two tents next door and make them..." - forget it. I never said that. Thought it, but didn't say it.
Disgusted with this rule and that rule (you know, 'cause we "drink"), Jas and I lit out for the park, which is across the access road and under the 101 straight to the Pacific Ocean.
Tracks. What was the tip-off?
This path ran parallel to the ocean. 
Surfer dude must have been waiting for the perfect wave - he found it, riding it in to shore about 5o yards out from here and about 150-200 yards into shore. He was ecstatic.
Took this right into the sun. Thought it would make a great shot and it turned out. Thanks, Heather.
The water in the creeks here is very clear. That's what those reflections are on the bottom of the picture.
I was struck by how many different colored rocks were sitting there in one group. I swear - I didn't touch a rock. Except the one I found at Rincon that looked like those Easter Island statues. I accidentally left it right next to this pile. Went back twice to try and retrace my steps (it wasn't that long of a stretch from when I had my rock to this pile of stones) but to no avail. It's really like searching for a needle in a haystack - a rock on this shore. Pisses me off. I may go back and try and find it.
The sun has pretty much disappeared. Time to head back to camp, Dickhead (my brother, not you).
Very inviting. Too bad I wasn't inviting someone of the opposite sex into "it".
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Like a log. With my brother.
Goodbye El Capitan. Goodbye El Capitan Campground Nazis. Oh, I say that in jest. Jas and I agree we wish we could've stayed longer and we would return. As I'm writing these last few lines, the theme music from, "The Endless Summer" - 1966, just popped on. Fitting (the tune is on my blog and if you like the summer and surf you should see it). Didn't want this trip to end. Now it's your turn.
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