The final insult, I thought, was driving out of California in a gigantic traffic jam. It took hours longer than it should have to get from the Bay Area to the Sierra foothills. "Thanks a lot, California," I thought, "for making that my final California memory."
But California wasn't done with me yet, because the delay put me in the high Sierras in late afternoon sunlight. I'd never seen them that color before. But by any objective standard they were gorgeous. And yet I had to leave them behind.
California is such a jerk.