I’m just cresting the first bend above San Andreas lake, swinging the driver’s visor to the side to block out the blinding rays of the sun, and for a moment I’m confused.
There’s a mountain range out there which didn’t exist this morning.
All across the forested hills a few miles to the west, the clouds have gathered and risen in majestic snowy peaks, spilling over the dark green foliage and glowing in the evening light.
It’s breathtaking, and I have to make an effort to keep my eyes where they need to be – on the road.
Another five miles and the fog has gathered fully. As the traffic races down the curves of the freeway ahead of me, it’s momentarily lit by a fan of Jacob’s Ladders.
I want to take a photo, but I can’t possibly do it justice through a windscreen at freeway speeds. It’s probably dangerous too.
Instead, I just drink it in; commit it to memory.
Big scenery in a Big Country.