California

After spending a weekend in northern California, I am convinced that the sun still exists. My concerns that the world has been thrust into a Narnia-like permanent winter have been dispelled. While most of our trip was filled with overcast skies and rain, there were a few moments of sublime sunshine that made it all worth it. Actually, that's not true at all. Here's a slice of why:

• I climbed the twisting, craggy road that goes from Davis to Napa in the pouring rain. There were waterfalls appearing our of nowhere along the cliffs.
• I climbed to the top of mount Diablo, ascending nearly 3000' in a mere thirteen miles. I throttled it up the first half, and set a new season-high power record. The view from the top is panoramic, and I watched coyotes harass a colony of pikas along the way.
  
• I climbed the bluffs outside Sausalito, past the massive gun turrets from World War Two. The road looks straight down on the Golden Gate Bridge, and the one-way descent was as beautiful as it was steep.
  
• I climbed mount Tamalpias through sheets of fog so thick, I got scared and made us turn around -- New Mexicans have an innate fear of fog. I was later informed that it wasn't fog at all, but rather low hanging clouds. I didn't really care, I'm just glad we got the hell out of there.
  
• I climbed out of the Muir woods through a hundred-foot canopy of redwood trees. From within the forest, there was no way to tell the wind was that strong.