Driving the windy highway 150 into Ojai is always an adventure. This two-lane road is so familiar to Jim and me after 28 years that even the pungent oily smell from Santa Paula creek near Thomas Aquinas College presents a unique welcome. We curve around windswept ridges, citrus and avocado groves and expansive horse ranches.
In upper Ojai, the Black Mountain Ranch is ablaze with color, shapes and forms. The mustard plants, orchard trees and Coast Live Oak trees form a stunning horticultural canvas.
Only 80 miles from our Glendale home, Ojai, nestled in the Los Padres National Forest, is a retreat from congested city life. Each year, we come in late April and join family and friends to watch “The Ojai” tennis tournament.
Ojai is a haven for artists, musicians and those seeking a healthy lifestyle. But lesser known is the oldest amateur tennis tournament in America (114 years) that’s played in this Mayberry-esque town. Tennis matches include PAC-12, community and independent college, junior competition, and open tennis play.
Tennis legends Billie Jean King, Arthur Ashe, Stan Smith, Tracy Austin and the Bryan brothers have all played here. Libbey Park, shaded by mighty oaks in the middle of town, hosts the major tennis action and dozens of courts all the way to Ventura are also used.
This tournament is so steeped in tradition that the “Tea Tent” opens promptly at 3 p.m. Tea is poured into china cups from an elegant sterling server for all who stop in. One lump or two? A slice of lemon? Women adorned in floral dresses stand ready with platters loaded with Oreos, maple, lemon creme, shortcake, and chocolate chip cookies. Fans reconnect around outside tables and discuss their favorite plays of the day while sipping tea.
We love “The Ojai” and my memories of the years here don’t fade easily. Nor do the back of my white slacks with the green tinge from the freshly painted bleachers at Libbey Park.
We’ll return next year, stay at the Lavender Inn’s cottage, take an early morning hike up Shelf Road Trail with Christy and PJ and then watch the matches, cheering for the winners and the runner-ups as they receive their green and white ribboned medals flanked amidst pots of yellow chrysanthemums. And yes, I’ll wear white slacks again. After all, that’s part of the tradition too.