Siteline | Old Coast Highway Revisited

Every time I pass by the Municipal Tennis Center, I resolve to take up tennis again—aside from the obvious physical benefits, hitting the crap out of something is deeply therapeutic. But I haven’t asked my knees to do that much work in decades, and is the reward worth the risk? (Maybe next week….) A staffer was stationed in the tennis center’s parking lot, and I got spooked that he was making sure only players parked there, so I continued on till I found a spot on S. Salinas Street.

It makes some sense that Santa Barbara has East and West streets, but the North and South ones seem unnecessary. N. Salinas is all of two blocks long.

The walk got off to a good start with a dilapidated piano and the misspelling of tobacco on Mi Fiesta Market’s awning. Or maybe it’s a nod to the tabacs of France? I also love the off-center gable roof.

On Old Coast Highway, I was greeted by the quintessential yardifact—a wagon wheel—along with an outdoor light with a glittery cover (hard to capture in a photo) and a shiny metal waterbird.

I’m always saying how you see more when you walk, and nowhere is that truer than on Old Coast Highway, where I’m sure most of us have never taken much notice of the charming old houses on the south side of the street. Some appear to now be multifamily homes.

And two have mailboxes embedded in stone walls. Dreamy.

Apartment buildings old and new dominate the streetscape. I find the new industrial-style one at 415 Old Coast Highway quite handsome, with the exception of the trellis at the street entrance and the tapered stairs. Also, I spy a face! (But then I’m prone to that.) It reminds me of a cartoon lady robot, like Rosey from “The Jetsons.”

And we can add Villa Ava to the list of apartment buildings with women’s names (Michelle, Fran, Crystal…). A friend once told me that a developer named a bunch of them after his lovers, which sounds too good to be true.

More residential units seem to be coming to 8 Ocean View Avenue; last we heard, the plan called for “seven dwelling units in five buildings.”

And who knows what these guys are cooking up at the corner of Harbor View Drive. That’s technically part of the Montecito Club, but the city and/or utility companies could have an easement on it.

In 2021, the Santa Barbara city council passed an ordinance requiring grocery stores to collect their carts or face fines—which I still think is daffy. (The victim of a crime is responsible?) Perhaps whoever is enforcing the rule [sarcasm] can figure out what to do with the cart from Fresh & Easy, a chain that ceased operations in 2015.

Theo, go home! As for the dog, I don’t know what the flyer was about, other than cuteness. The text at the bottom is a URL of the image’s location online.

An ornate channel along the north edge of the Municipal Tennis Center is full-on wetlands at this point. A decent-size vacant lot, also owned by the city, lies to the east.

Across Old Coast Highway is the Montecito Club, with its verdant landscaping and pretty stonework. A number of lovely trees line that side of the road, including a majestic Monterey cypress (I think?).

Someone appears to be living in this eucalyptus grove.

And someone is definitely living here.

The stretch of Old Coast Highway between the country club and the freeway on the other is a bit of a forgotten land.

It’s not the most enjoyable place to walk, to be honest, although I found the young trees on the south side of the street very interesting. I later reached out to David Gress, author of Santa Barbara Beautiful’s “Tree of the Month” column, who said that they’re fire-wheel trees, named after their amazing flowers.

I was pleased to see that some of these pompom plants—I don’t want to know their real name—survived the depressing clear-cutting required for the Highway 101 expansion.

Whoomp! There it is. (The worker reminded me of a hermit crab.)

I snapped a souvenir photo of the Hot Springs/Cabrillo left exit sign, which dates when I actually walked this stretch, for the sign has been dismantled. I understand why left exits are not ideal—if for no other reason than they slow down fast-lane traffic (as if anyone knows what the fast lane is anymore)—but I still like them and will miss this one.

One benefit of the construction-related destruction is a good view of the Los Patos railroad bridge, which is historically significant but still getting replaced, so it shall be commemorated with a plaque at the end of Los Patos Way.

Upon turning around—I didn’t go all the way to the traffic circle, because I am not a masochist—I had to admire this stiletto-shaped devil’s strip.

Art Spiegelman fans are everywhere.

Before long, I was back at the Municipal Tennis Center, where a path from the street winds through gardens. The back door to the stadium court was open, so I sneaked a peek. It’s very old-school and looks a little splintery.

The stadium court has a classy entrance flanked by magnolias.

And the other courts are pretty seductive, even though I grew up with green-and-red courts and anything else feels wrong. In the distance, but still within earshot, people were playing pickleball.

Other amenities include a playground and a defibrillator that apparently gets locked up at night. Better hope the staff is diligent about its morning routine.

And I love the “or remain” in this sign. The whole line is unnecessary—”closed” suffices—but someone felt compelled to tighten up the possible loophole of a legit visitor overstaying his welcome.

Once done with Old Coast Highway, I tackled the side streets. The name of Park Place always makes me smile, because it’s a far cry from the second-most expensive property in Monopoly. The apartment complex in the first photo is remarkably attractive, given the proximity to the freeway. And the one in the second photo has old-California vibes; imagine how good it would look with more/larger windows.

At the corner of Pitos Street—pito means whistle in Spanish—is a 1925 house with fabulous archways and a stone garage. Further west on Pitos is another one with vintage curb appeal.

En route to Lou Dillon Lane, I found myself briefly back on Salinas Street, where I finally looked up what the American European Bethel Mission is all about—trying to persuade Jewish people that Jesus Christ is the Messiah. I am not religious, but faith seems so personal to me, so internal, that I can’t fathom why anyone would feel compelled to influence another’s beliefs.

As you may or may not know, Lou Dillon Lane was named after a racehorse (and she’s buried somewhere nearby, but where?). The star attraction of the street has to be the house at 252 Santa Ynez Court, notable for its tall floral sculpture and Corten steel fence with flower-shaped cut-outs.

Architecturally speaking, I was more drawn to this one on the east side of Lou Dillon Lane, although the trees make photographing it tricky.

And this one seems to go on and on—it’s like a village back there.

There are apartments, too. The second building below is a fascinating choice for residential. I wish we could get all the inhabitants to open their doors simultaneously and wave, like a giant cuckoo clock.

The street ends with two driveways. The one to the left goes to 1479 Lou Dillon Lane, a 4,970-square-footer that sold for $1.925 million in late 2019. (It needed work.) The one to the right is shared by four houses, one of which (1480) sold for $3.835 million in August 2025.

Besides houses and apartments, the street also boasts a fancy devil’s strip embedded with stone; a truck that will stop me once and for all from accusing my husband of hoarding stuff in his trunk; and a mailbox where someone went the extra mile and paneled the door.

The absolute best detail: the monkey climbing up the palm at the corner of Lou Dillon Court. What a difference 14 years makes—check out this 2012 photo of the palm from Google Maps.

The southernmost side street off Lou Dillon Land is Santa Ynez Court. Props to the homeowners who (a) spent extra for the stonework, and (b) gave their streetscape a contemporary makeover.

Moving north on Lou Dillon Lane, we get to Lou Dillon Court. Nice tree.

And then there’s Uhlan Court, also named after a racehorse. His parents were Bingen and Blondella—one of those would definitely been a better street name that repeating Lou Dillon.

Ocean View Avenue runs parallel to Lou Dillon Lane to the west. It has an impressive allée of palms—sans monkeys, alas.

The structures are primarily apartments in various styles.

I was particularly drawn to this peach number, with its blocky shapes, brise soleil positioned well above the window, stubby trellises over the garage doors, and whatever is happening on the roof.

This one looks like a house that got stretched into a duplex.

Let’s zoom in on that sweet old Dodge.

The Country Club Apartments complex, at the end of the street, is bigger (66 units) than it appears. While I didn’t explore it myself—private property and all that—residents can drive clockwise around the complex and end up on Scenic Drive to the east.

There are houses, too. The unpaved driveway is a fairly rustic situation for 2026.

Harbor View Lane runs more or less parallel to Ocean View, and the lack of sidewalks is a bummer, especially given the curves in the road and all the street parking.

As everywhere in the area, there are neat old houses.

And if your house isn’t big enough, you can always get a Wells Cargo trailer for storage. Great name! The company should paint them to look like stagecoaches.

Country Club Lane is a short cul-de-sac to the east; I don’t know why anyone bothered naming it, as only two properties are on it. At the end is the Montecito Club’s golf course.

Harbor View Drive forms a T with Scenic Drive. Here’s the view to the left, where the street soon turns into the aforementioned Country Club Apartments driveway.

To the right was a phalanx of construction vehicles working on repaving the street to stinky effect. Rough gig.

Scenic Drive is indeed scenic, particularly from the houses on the higher, northern side.

My five favorite houses….

None of which was as marvelous as the bungalow court on the southern side. Those chimneys!

I dutifully obeyed both of these signs. This is what a Belgian Malinois looks like, FYI. “Belgian Malinois are loving and patient with the children from their own family,” says Orvis. “They should always be watched around kids, however, because these herding dogs will try to wrangle children who get unruly.” Well, someone should.