The womps do totally awesome bro stuff

While Soph was getting off at San Juan Capistrano, cheerily reflecting on how "surprisingly easy" the ride up had been, I was bracing for the remainder of my 5 and-a-half hour migration to Santa Barbara. Don't believe the lies: that extra half hour is real, and it's enough to break a man.

Full disclosure: it was 5.5 hours of unadulterated alone-time bliss

Fortunately, the weekend was dedicated to the bros being unbreakable goddamn womps, so I bore my cross like a boss, and before I knew it I was lounging in the Doucheline^®, comfortably cracking an ice-cold IPA.

Introducing: Isaac, aka Saac, aka Izaku, aka Dunkless, aka Womp 1 #2, aka the-dude-shown-here-sitting-in-his-boxers.

Isaac, immediately prior to failing to pair the Dual Chodes. Again.

Isaac's new place was dope: small but cozy, with a wall that fully opens up to an epic view of Santa Barbara, a wall stacked with Bruery beers, and (in no part thanks to Isaac's efforts) surround-sound Dual Chode accoustics.

We met up with two of Isaac's friends for dinner at a hot pot place called Lao Ma Tou, where we obviously got the so-damn-fiery-the-waiter-doesn't-recommend-it-for-white-folk broth. Long story short, Isaac lost a thumb wrestling match, so he had to chug a bowl of from-the-bowls-of-hell broth. He finished it, but barely.

You know what he got? F+. Click.

After some hearty sleep and a danky lox breakfast, we jumped into the Doucheline^® and cruised out to tackle the infamous ACLCT ("Arlington Cathedral La Cumbre Trail Loop). This 9 mile, 3000-ft-of-elevation-climb of a hike crests three of the highest peaks in Santa Barbara. Bring it, bro.

Should someone tell him the cap is still on his waterbottle?

The hike kicked off in an aggressive fashion, and had us climbing boulders up a steep, dried up creek bed that was absolutely crawling with poison oak.

Flashback to last time Isaac and I encountered poison oak, wheeee!

The hike was pretty damn epic. The climb up was breakneck steep, and involved some legitimately intense boulder scaling - some necessary, some for (oh) shits and giggles.

Left: oh shits. Middle: giggles. Right: ...both?

The crest fest began with Arlington Peak (3258 ft)...

Whatever Isaac sees on the right is aparently way doper than the view.

... followed promptly by a dual-selfie stop at the nearby Cathedral Peak (3333 ft).

More like smellfie.

After a steep downhill climb and a brief jaunt through the "strange little forest," we braved one more stretch of non-stop vertical vaulting and finally - 3.5 hours in - summited the fabled La Cumbre Peak (3985 ft).

If we're counting Isaac's, make that 3987 feet.

And while the view may have been the prettiest sight, the prettiest sound was the sound of Isaac cracking open a crowler of Figuero Mountain Mosaic Pale, which we'd lugged up wrapped up in an ice pack insulated with towels.

I suppose the view was prettier without beer bellies blocking it.

The still-ice-cold beer was unfathomably fantastic, and paired perfectly with the superb sandwiches we brought up for lunch.

Rejuvenated by said beer (and strongly motivated by the prospect of more), we pretty much sprinted down the gently sloping return trail. By the time we got back to the Doucheline^® - in sum, 9 miles and 6 hours later - we were still so fresh and full of energy we were ready to do it all again.

Isaac, demonstrating how weaker-willed men than we might feel.

Alas, the call of beer was too strong.

Back in town, we had an amazing dinner at Arigato Sushi, and set off to answer the call. Our favorite bar was Night Lizard Brewing Company, which had a v-solid hazy IPA, and where I absolutely decimated Isaac in some Battleship.

Not sure why we're both eyeballing the camera so creepily.

We topped the evening off with a few well-timed beer-for-life callouts (Mirek fails: 1, Isaac fails: 2), and officially stamped the day - and the weekend - with the metaphorical mark of massive success.