Now that we’ve used our Magellan GPS for both local and cross country travel, I have a few criticisms that I feel I should mention:

• The voice is just annoying. I realize most GPS systems have annoying voices, but this one really bugs me.
• It gives really screwy directions sometimes. For example, we were heading from Santa Monica toward Pasadena, and wanted to start on the 405 and eventually end up on the 210. The fastest and shortest route is to take the 405 N to the 101 to the 134 to the 210. The Magellan instructed us to take the 405 N to the 405 N (I assume it meant the 5 N) and then to connect to the 210 near Sylmar, which basically would take us on a big loop around the valley and add a dozen traffic filled miles onto our trip. Yeah, that’s what we need during the afternoon commute.
• The “Arrival at Destination Time” feature is basically useless on long distance trips, since it can’t seem to deal with distances of more than 1000 miles, and kept giving us impossible arrival times. The overall distance statistics feature is much more useful, however.

It was great for giving us a general idea of how to navigate new areas, but a lot of the time, we needed to refer to our National Geographic road atlas for more detail. So overall, I feel like the Magellan is great if you already have a general idea of the route you need to travel, but it’s kind of like MapQuest in that it has a few direction-finding glitches it needs to work out.

I have been meaning to post something about Santa Barbara for a few weeks but I kept forgetting to download the pics off the digital camera. So, without futher ado, here are some of the gorgeous views:

We had intended to do some climbing at Gibraltar Rock but got sidetracked by some shopping early in the day. By the time we got to Gibraltar Rock, about 14 other climbers were already set up, so we decided to do some exploring for a less crowded spot. The guide book mentioned a spot further up the hill that was the exact location were bouldering in Santa Barbara got started, so with a little nostalgia in our hearts, we set out to find it.

The good news is that the drive to the location was absolutely gorgeous. As you can see in the photos above, we were WAY above the cloud line that hid the city. Eventually the paved road ended, as the guide book said it would, and we were on the dirt road that was supposed to lead us to the alleged first climbing spot. We followed the instructions to the letter: we drove about a mile down the road (and had our Magellan keeping track of the distance for accuracy) and spent a good while looking for a trail which the guide book described as “a good trail” that was “well marked.” We didn’t check the publication date of the book until much later, or we would have realized that the last time this spot was visited was probably around the time the book was written, in 1999. The decrepit trail marker should have been the first clue that something was amiss, but we were both excited about the adventure and trudged on. The trail was extremely overgrown and seemed to be heading away from the rocky outcropping we spotted from the road, but we optimistically went ahead anyway. Well, I optimistically went ahead. Partner-in-Climb expressed concern about a hundred yards into the journey, but I was convinced we were on the right trail. It was the only one around…it had to be the right one.

We turned a corner and ended up in a small clearing that gave us a clear view of the rocks we were trying to reach–and the acres of trail-less scrub between us and the rocks, so we decided to stop and just enjoy the view. I have to admit, it was awesome to be out there, with no one around for miles. Here’s the rock we were trying to reach, in the distance to the right of Big Old Dog:

In spite of everything, it was a great day, but next time we will have to get on the road earlier to secure a spot at one of the more popular climbing spots in the area. I guess those spots are so popular for a good reason.