On the way to California

Northern California viewed from the air en route from Vancouver to San Francisco at daybreak is a fine enough sight, if you happen to like lots of rolling brown hills. The hills are brown because the vegetation is so sparse: aside from the inevitable pine trees, all there really is on the hillsides is browner grasses and bare dirt. And the hills don’t so much roll as thrust upwards and outwards in very large clusters. It almost looks as if someone has scooped up some dirt and squished it together between her fingers, dropping it back onto the ground in great heaps. Millions of years of plate tectonics have more or less dictated that California—its northern part together with its south—is destined to receive pretty much the ass end of the deal when it comes to geology. So if you happen to be fond of endless miles of not-so-gentle slopes and somewhat uninspiring evergreen forests—and I know more than a few people who seem to be—then the hills of Northern California would be for you.