By Richard Senate –
Ventura is a unique place, and over time it has developed its own traditions—and its own language. For those newly arrived on our sunny shores, here is a short guide to local terms that might help you sound like a longtime resident.
In Ventura County, valleys are often referred to with the addition of the word “the,” and the valley name is used rather than the city. One would never say, “I’m going to Thousand Oaks,” but instead, “I’m going to the Conejo.” The same logic applies to “the Ojai,” as it is often called locally.
Seaside Park has gone by many names over the years, but longtime residents once referred to the area where the railroad crosses the Ventura River as “Hobo Jungle.” During the early 20th century, it was an encampment where transient workers gathered and hopped trains traveling north and south. During World War II, the encampment was cleared and the area briefly became a small military installation. Two camouflaged cannons were mounted there—not to defend the city from Japanese attack, but to protect the region’s vital oil fields.
Today, the hot, dry winds that cause so much destruction are known as Santa Anas or Devil Winds. In old Ventura, however, they were called “the Camulos Swells,” named for the Camulos Rancho from whose direction the winds blow. In nearby Santa Barbara, these winds are still called “Sundowners,” a term that occasionally slips into Ventura conversation as well.
The west end of the city – where much of Ventura’s early history unfolded – is known simply as “the Avenue,” after Ventura Avenue. Once considered prime real estate, it was home to many of the city’s doctors, lawyers, and business leaders. When oil was discovered in the Ventura River fields, the neighborhood changed. Oil workers and related industries moved in, and much of the city’s upper crust relocated east to Hobson’s Heights.
Spanish-speaking residents also contributed local linguistic quirks. Here, the spicy condiment salsa was often pronounced “sarza.” Additionally, in Ventura County the Spanish word arroyo has retained its older definition—a creek bed with running water—rather than the more modern meaning of a dry ditch.
Longtime residents never referred to the landmark trees above the city as “Two Trees.” They were known as “Five Trees,” as five once stood atop the hill. Today, only one full-sized tree and a smaller replacement remain. Over the years, the site has inspired both patriotism and mischief—from American flags flown after 9/11 to Halloween pranks that once sent police hiking uphill to investigate reports of a hanging figure.
Another uniquely Ventura term is San Jon Road, a short street that once marked the boundary of Rancho San Miguel. Early American settlers assumed it honored an obscure Catholic saint, but no Saint Jon exists. The name is believed to be a mispronunciation of the Spanish word zanja, meaning a man-made ditch or canal—likely referring to a water channel built by the Mission fathers. Over the years, San Jon has also earned a reputation for being haunted, with many stories of unexplained sights and events.
These are just a few of the local expressions that reflect Ventura’s rich history.
