The next morning I got up and drove 25 miles down Interstate 280 ("the 280", in California dialect). A glorious morning: only moderate traffic, sunny and pleasant. I was treated to spectacular vistas of hills, and valleys filled with morning mist. Cows, eucalyptus trees, live oaks (I think; something gnarled like that), and sun, sun, sun! (Although at one point the mist even covered the road, slowing us to a crawl for a half-mile or so.)
The 280 was built in the 1970s through what was then—and still remains, in many parts—virgin California mountainside, and is claimed to be the "World's Most Beautiful Freeway", and I believe it. Here's a recent picture that gives some idea of what it looks like, although it doesn't do it full justice:
I listened to KFOX 98.5 Classic Rock, which seemed to be playing all of Kt's and my favorites, and wished she was there with me. She sure loved California.
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