I saw the tallest trees in the world, California's redwood, so tall that it hurt to stand beneath one and look up to see its peak. And the giant sequoia trees are so wide they put a road through one and didn't even kill the tree doing it.
Then south along the coast, driving highway 101, was so scary in places that I'd wished I could get off and head inland, but I couldn't. There were no roads off.
It is a fabulous rugged coastline of mountains and valleys and seals and their cubs sunning along tiny patches of beach sand, wild and free.
There were dead hills and green hills and miles of the highway visible up ahead, winding, curving and swooping down and climbing back up, bridges and mist and such a massiveness of land and sea that no words can describe the beauty and awesomeness of this part of California's coastline.
I vowed never to drive that highway again, because just remembering to breathe was too hard.
The road curved in to San Luis Obispo, where near there, the land swept up high, so high it seemed to rest in clouds, and way up there sat the Hearst castle, glorious and rich, screaming of the era of the newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst and such opulence as ancient works of art, even a Roman temple.
Los Angeles loomed ahead, waiting to show off all it had to offer to any tourist willing to take the time to explore it.
Then south along the coast, driving highway 101, was so scary in places that I'd wished I could get off and head inland, but I couldn't. There were no roads off.
It is a fabulous rugged coastline of mountains and valleys and seals and their cubs sunning along tiny patches of beach sand, wild and free.
There were dead hills and green hills and miles of the highway visible up ahead, winding, curving and swooping down and climbing back up, bridges and mist and such a massiveness of land and sea that no words can describe the beauty and awesomeness of this part of California's coastline.
I vowed never to drive that highway again, because just remembering to breathe was too hard.
The road curved in to San Luis Obispo, where near there, the land swept up high, so high it seemed to rest in clouds, and way up there sat the Hearst castle, glorious and rich, screaming of the era of the newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst and such opulence as ancient works of art, even a Roman temple.
Los Angeles loomed ahead, waiting to show off all it had to offer to any tourist willing to take the time to explore it.
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