TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 7
Leaving Las Vegas, I enjoy driving west across the desert with the window part way down and the dry air blowing in my face. By the time I am approaching Bakersfield, California, evening is near. On the hillsides are hundreds of windmills churning electricity with the sun setting behind them. From Bakersfield, the morning drive is bleary with haze. I drive up the central valley of California, which is mile after mile of orchards, vineyards and cropland. At one point I pass an orange grove, lemon grove and nectarine orchard all in succession with their unique fragrance.
Driving across the Oakland Bay Bridge, the dramatic San Francisco skyline is straight ahead, and with fragrant bay air streaming in the window, I give a rebel yell, being once again in the city I love.