An Old West Town in Wine Country

Having only ever gone to Santa Ynez for a meal and maybe a brief stroll, I dragooned my husband, Adam, into spending a night there. After booking at The Genevieve, however, I realized that Monday/Tuesday might not be the ideal time: the hotel’s restaurant, The Victor, and the Chumash Museum and Cultural Center would have to wait for another visit. Two restaurants I was interested in trying—Stica and Pony Cocktails + Kitchen—were open, so we forged ahead.

We arrived in the morning for a cappuccino at Queen Cup Coffee, which I admire for the dedication to inclusivity and the quality of the coffee, before continuing onward for a hike on the Lovers Loop trail off Figueroa Mountain Road, which is closer to Los Olivos than Santa Ynez. Even if you’re not up for hiking, the drive is worth doing.

The trail is four miles, and despite the name, it’s not a leisurely stroll—there will be sweat, particularly if you start later than first thing in the morning. The scenery is lovely, with standout moments like moss-draped trees, views of Grass Mountain (good to remember during wildflower season), and a couple of stretches that feel relatively cool and damp—which is where we encountered a banana slug.

The smell of pines makes for a nice change from hiking our front-country trails, but some spots are still recovering from the 2023 Mountain Fire. We were surprised to see pine cones on burned trees. I later asked the Santa Barbara Botanic Garden for an explanation, and executive director Steve Windhager, Ph.D., was willing to oblige:

For many species of pines, the cones are intended to withstand fires, and in some cases, only open to release their seed after they have reached a certain temperature. In other cases the cones can open and close based on weather conditions. For many species, “Green” pine cones, that are still closed with their seed inside, have evolved to withstand fires and protect their seeds from this situation. In some cases, it can take years for these cones to fully ripen and open to spread their seeds. After the seeds have typically been dispersed, many of these cones will fall from the tree, but either way, they will dry and in this condition, they are more flammable. But even being more flammable, those cones in the tree are less likely to be exposed to conditions that would actually catch them on fire unless the entire tree catches on fire. In your photo, the fire seems to have been very “flashy,” burning off the needles and perhaps the parts of the trunk, which killed the tree, but not lasting long enough to catch some of the smaller twig-sized branches on fire (which would have been what would have also caught the pine cones on fire, potentially). More information on cones and how they can open and close can be found here.

Lunch at the fast-casual Stica, from S.Y. Kitchen’s Luca Crestanelli, was a treat: we shared a salami panino and a slice of squash-and-lamb sausage pizza. The restaurant definitely passed the would-we-eat-there-if-it-were-closer test, and I’m planning on returning with a cooler full of ice so I can stock up on the frozen lasagnas. (Fellow diners left their truck idling for the duration of their meal, presumably to keep it cool inside—a tactic we also noticed elsewhere in town. It’s funny how people who live in such a beautiful place can be cavalier about the environment.)

Santa Ynez has changed quite a bit since we first visited a dozen years ago, but the Old West spirit lives on.

The vibe peaks at the Santa Ynez Valley Historical Museum. I love the livestock brands at the entrance—gathered together, they look like hieroglyphics.

The Trump Administration’s targeting of “political road markings,” in an effort to get rid of the ones that commemorate Black Lives Matter, gay rights, and other things that upset them so, has caught unpolitical ones in its net. (Goodbye, Buddy Holly–themed crosswalks in Lubbock, Texas.) What a shame if Santa Ynez’s fabulous horseshoe crosswalks, two of which spell out “WHOA,” become casualties, too. The horseshoes were donated by local equestrians.

Anyway, I like how old and new coexist, with stuff for locals—hardware, water district office, etc.—alongside stuff for tourists, a charming mix that you no longer find in Los Olivos, Solvang, or Los Alamos.

You know you’re in a small town when the library is only open three hours a week.

But then so much was closed while there. A few women’s clothing shops were open, but I draw the line. We did venture into KJ Murphy’s hat store, which has an amazing vestigial bar and where I’ll absolutely go when I need another hat. The Heel-o-Matic parked outside is a roping dummy.

And Santa Ynez Feed & Milling was an interesting education, although we wept a little for this moose’s (?) loss of dignity.

There were plenty of other quirky moments. The metal hoop around the tree remains a mystery.

The afternoon was hot, and we soon exhausted what the town has to offer on a Monday afternoon, so we went to the Genevieve, hoping to check in early. Formerly the Santa Ynez Inn, the building is terrific, and The Victor restaurant looks really attractive, with abundant outdoor seating.

The staff couldn’t say when our room might be ready, but rather than wait inside—the decor is dated, particularly in the institutional breakfast room—we went back outside.

I needed something sweet, so we decided to kill time by driving to Solvang, where we found an ice cream shop that sells McConnell’s. Solvang is not for me, and it only appears to be getting more so every time I visit. I did buy a postcard to send to a friend and then went to the post office for a stamp. Betty White!

On the way back to Santa Ynez, we passed a sign for something I have never heard of: a live drive-through nativity scene. Is a real baby involved? Don’t answer that! I prefer the mystery.

We still had two hours before the 4 p.m. check-in. As happens at so many hotels, the staffers told us they’d call when our room was ready, but no one ever did. So we hung out in the side yard, where I was fascinated by what I thought was a clump of oak growing out of a sycamore, but Owen Duncan, content specialist at the Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History, says is probably mistletoe.

The room cost $400 total, including $50 in taxes and a $40 amenity fee, and while I wouldn’t say it was special—well, it did have an extra sink next to the front door and old-school piped-in music—it was large and clean, with a pretty balcony. The rate felt like a good deal even without the stuff we didn’t take advantage of: breakfast cooked to order, a passport with tasting offers an local wineries, and a bottle of sparkling wine in the mini fridge. (No one knew that I would be writing about our visit.)

Instead of the sparking wine, we went for a beer at the Maverick Saloon. It has been a long time since I’ve set foot inside a bar with paper money dangling from the ceiling. And one benefit of being there on a Monday: no line dancing or karaoke.

Adam was tetchy about the heat and all that sitting around because so much was closed; at one point, the phrase “Siteline planning fail” was uttered, which went over far less well than he had evidently expected. So I threw him a bone and switched our dinner plan to S.Y. Kitchen. Pony Cocktails + Kitchen doesn’t look bad at all, but we had reached the point where we craved the comfort of a reliably great meal. And S.Y. Kitchen delivered.

As in Ojai a while back, I was reminded how enjoyable it is to linger in our neighboring towns, particularly in the morning and at night. And being able to walk back to the hotel from dinner was a total delight, even if we had to avert our eyes at one point.

As Keanu Reeves would say….

Maybe it was the heat, the hiking, the hotel (which was quiet and had great air conditioning), or the delicious dinner, but we slept our brains out. And in the morning, we strolled over to The Baker’s Table for a restorative croissant breakfast sandwich.

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Previous travel coverage:
••• The Glorious Isolation of Santa Barbara Island
••• Hiking From Hotel to Hotel in the Dolomites
••• A Ramble Through the English Countryside
••• Notes from Up North: Healdsburg, Mendocino, and San Francisco 
••• There’s More to Peru Than Machu Picchu
••• On a Backroads Tour of New Zealand’s South Island
••• Navigating the North Island of New Zealand
••• Don’t Be So Quick to Write Off Phoenix
••• The Most Magical City in the World
••• One and Done in Sedona
••• A Proper Visit to Santa Monica
••• A Quickie in San Francisco
••• Dipping a Toe Into Southern Corsica
••• The Exquisite Luxury of Taking Paris for Granted
••• Santa Rosa Island in One Day
••• Soaking Up History at Castle Hot Springs
••• Driving Through the Heart of Hokkaido
••• Tokyo Is a World Unto Itself
••• Paso Robles, Pinnacles National Park, and Beyond
••• A Review of the Inn at Mattei’s Tavern
••• Another Quickie in L.A.
••• Sitting Pretty at the One & Only Mandarina
••• The Mysteries of Istanbul
••• Palm Springs: Midweek at the Oasis
••• Exploring the Sea Caves of Santa Cruz Island
••• A Summer Swing Through the Northeast
••• Why Is Everyone Going to Portugal?
••• Patagonia Made Easy
••• A Quickie in L.A.
••• From Penthouse to Pavement in Mexico City
••• Do Greek Islands Live Up to the Fantasy?
••• Splendid Isolation at Utah’s Lodge at Blue Sky
↓↓↓ Three Reasons to Visit Paso Robles Now

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