Falling In Ojai’s Spiritual Vortex
Story by Reyn Smith and Jack Sloan. Photos by Jack Sloan.
Edited by Jack Sloan.
My chalked fingers pushed into the grainy, brittle rock, rubbing raw against the simmering stone. The shouts of encouragement from my friends below were muffled by my concentration. My heart pounded in my chest and my feet trembled as I looked meekly up at the seemingly microscopic rift that marked the final hold of the climb – my only chance at safely conquering the boulder. As I looked up toward the rocks ridge, I glimpsed pink mountains rising above the chaparral valley. The ‘pink moment’ had been foretold all day, and it was finally happening. As I craned my head to see, the tiny speck of rock supporting my entire body weight gave way. I began to fall.
Memories of the day flooded back, and I recalled the drive from Malibu in the early morning. We set off on a familiar road, and headed up the 1. Our first destination was Ojai valley, where our dear friend Euegene lives, and he had offered to show us around. I was shocked when, as we drove deeper into the valley, the desert-like landscape shifted into lush orange groves and olive trees. To kill some time before our friend was ready to meet us at the local Mexican restaurant, we longboarded through parking lots, enjoying the California winter warmth. We climbed a tree as high as we could. We looked at covers in the window of a bookstore.
Finally we joyously greeted Eugene and his brother Henry at Ojai Tortilla House. I followed his instructions to get the spicy salsa, which I lavishly quenched with a glass of watermelon juice. Upon arriving at Eugene’s house he bestowed upon us a gift of his family’s home pressed olive oil. As we looked out over the beautiful valley, Henry informed us that Ojai is one of a few ‘spiritual vortexes’ worldwide, widely believed to hold special spiritual power. We could feel it. They pointed up to the highest cliffs which the Chumash natives called the ‘Topa Topa’, informing us that because Ojai is one of only two valleys in California which run West to East instead of North to South, the mountains will illuminate with a rare pink color just before sunset. Now nourished by our burritos, we, like proper desert mammals, set off in search of water.
Eugene needed no GPS to navigate what were to us unfamiliar and strange backroads. We finally arrived at a chain link fence which our local guide masterfully located an entrance through, informing us that this was a common place for locals to go swimming. As soon as the beautiful blue swimming holes came into view, though, we were met with a rather aggressive citizen, who (perhaps to cover up his own illegal fishing activities, or just out of spiritual disconnection?) scared us off from swimming. Luckily, on the walk back to the car, we came upon an equally lovely opening in the creek which we swung into from low hanging tree branches. Swimming holes had been carefully crafted by the stacking of stone throughout the creek, allowing for deep pools to be filled by waterfalls. The melted snow that fed the river allowed for a natural cold plunge to slow our minds and calm our beating hearts.
With our thirst for water satisfied, we began our next quest: to fight gravity. Ojai is renowned for its rock climbing spots, and with the climbing pad strapped to Eugene’s back, countless formidable boulders came into view while we hiked higher and higher above the valley. This was my first time climbing outdoors, and my confidence quickly waned. The rocks were hot and would chip if you put too much weight on them; your fingers would get sweaty quickly,and if you fell and missed the tiny pad you would find yourself hitting some thorny bush – or worse, the rocky ground – at terminal velocity. Each of us attempted a climb we’d located one by one with chalky hands and sweaty brows. Finally my turn came, right at the pink moment. As the tiny speck of rock supporting my weight gave way, and I fell, Reyn miraculously drew me into the pad for a safe landing. As my heart pounded, and pink was still singed into my eyes from the rosy Topa Topa, I celebrated my salvation. The savage beauty of Ojai laid out before me as the sun set on a day of adventure.
And yes, we’re still savoring the olive oil.
