So the final day of the trip took us through the Coastal Valley, into the western edge of California's Central Valley, and then home.
Again lots of driving, but it was punctuated by a couple of interesting stops.
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| These images almost speak for themselves. Here is where the Pacific and North American plates converge, with predictable results |
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| Parkfield bills itself as the Earthquake capital of California, note the motto on the stack of the boiler |
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| Some views of Parkfield. No, this not the entirety of the lodge. It has about a dozen rooms throughout the village |
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| Not a one street town |
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| No, this is not mass transit |
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| The historic school undergoing renovation. |
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| In truth, it is a pleasant crossroads. We are toying with returning on Mother's Day with our spouses for the bluegrass festival |
California's scenery is, for many folks, alien. We call it "green and golden."
Nowhere is it as clearly on display as in the central portion of the state.
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| Rosa, who Sharon sent along to keep an eye on us, was justifiably miffed at not having been depicted earlier. She's a vain little pig. |
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| Rocinante, roadside just before one of the systems controlling the turbos called it quits, thus literally cooling our jets. Before that we had both taken turns at seriously carving the roads. |
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