48
“Wegot a thiiiiiinggoingooooon!”Maybe it’s
the fatigue,or the effects ofwine country,but
it’s anoddly romanticway to end theday.
day
3
pasorolestosanta
barbara:
InwhichRachel
paddles thePacific, skims
surf shops, and tastes
some terrific tacos.
We wake to the sound of roosters crowing
outside.After aglassof freshgrapefruit juice,
we drive a fewmiles south to Kitchenette,
chef Chris Kobayashi’s new upscale diner in
Templeton.Beer-braisedcornedbeefhash to
start theday?Sure.Kitchenette stands out in
these parts, where cattle country is becom-
ing condoland. Just up the road there used
to be a big livestock auction house,manager
Rick tells us, but now it’s being developed
for housing, along with the now-shuttered
Beef Palace, “where cowboys used to go for
pancakes the size ofmanholes.”
Acoupleofhours later,we’reskirting thecoast
again, heading forGoleta, a laid-back beach
town just north of Santa Barbara. Sparkling,
sunny, and virtually empty,Haskell’s Beach
is irresistible.The ocean is calm, perfect for
paddleboarding.A freckly, shirtless kid greets
uson the sandwith rentalboards.We skim the
surface,rollingovergentlewaves,until I realize
I’d rather swim.And Josh realizes he has lost
his sunglasses.
Sticky with saltwater, we head up a path
toBacara Resort & Spa, a grand beachfront
inn. To offset the morning’s beery corned
beef,we opt for the resort’s SpaCafé, a ter-
race restaurant run by French chef Vincent
Lesage.The meal is fresh and healthy and
delicious: edamame dumplings, quinoa spicy
yogurt rolls, ahi tuna lettuce wraps with
kimchi aioli. Even the addition of a Santa
Ynez Sauvignon Blanc can’t dampen our
healthier-than-thoupost-prandial glow.
Sevenmiles east,we pull into the year-old
Goodland hotel, a 1969Holiday Inn reno-
vatedandrevived for thehipstercrowd:beaded
doorways; black-and-white shots of Cheryl
Tiegs; surfboards hanging on the ceiling of
one of its two bars, which are popular with
locals and Santa Barbara’s less wealthy (that
is, younger) tourists; a silver bulletAirstream
parked outside, just because.A pool party is
underway when we arrive, with a local DJ
spinning covers of FleetwoodMac.
It would be easy to sit by the pool sipping
build-your-own gimlets, but we have a date
with a local man who has sparked a revival
of his own: Steven Tiller, CEO and chief
designer of Santa Barbara–based SeaVees,
the quintessential “casual sneaker” from the
’60s,which is on the rise again underTiller’s
watch.We meet up with him at SeaVees’
indoor-outdoor studio, then hop on Linus
cruiser bikes topedal around town.
“There are only a handful of days here that
are not perfect,”Tiller says, gesturing at the
flawless sky. “This place has a lot of seventh
homeowners,butalsopeople likeme,whohave
tried to findawayhere,andnow thatwehave,
we justwant toholdon to it.”
Tiller grew up inOklahoma, skateboarding
anddreamingof theLeftCoast.Now,sockless
and tanned,pants rolledabove theankle,you’d
mistake him for a native.We grab a cappuc-
cino at French Press and pop intoWarbler
Below: a surfer on
Butterfly Beach, in
Santa Barbara
