The drive through the San Joaquin valley left me both excited by all of the fresh produce and horrified at how "Grapes of Wrath" California is. It was dry -- dry enough that there were constant grass fires reported on the local news. I expected to see giraffes roam by at any moment. Very Serengeti.
We didn't leave ourselves a lot of time in Sequoia, but we did the main touristy thing -- see giant sequioas. We were mightily impressed and, don't tell customs, but we imported many a sequoia cone into Mexico. Sequoias only grow at 5000 - 8000 ft elevation, so growing one in Virginia wasn't an option. But with Mexico City being at 7300 ft, I figure in 800 years or so, we'll have a pretty impressive stand here.
The chipmonks, squirrels and deer were all holy terrors -- completely unafraid of humans and frequently coming right up to you to get food.
General Sherman - not as impressive as you think. By this time, we had hiked the Giant Tree Trail, climbed a few fallen behemoths, and walked up on a bear, so seeing another big tree, this time covered in tourists with no bears in sight was a bit anti-climatic.
Bear #2 -- I couldn't get a single good shot with the sun behind him and my auto-focus focusing in on the branches in the way. I felt terribly defeated. We were about to leave California, and I didn't have one good shot of a bear. Until Lena spotted this beautiful baby about 100 feet from us as we walked around the giant sequoias. Lena named him Breck.
That night we drove back to San Francisco for one more night at the Hotel Palomar. This time we were given the Magritte suite. This meant that nothing was really any different except that there were Magritte posters including one featuring the "Son of Man" painting and many Magritte-looking clouds (which, funnily, look like normal, everyday clouds). I have stayed in art-themed rooms before, some done quite well, but I don't think that surrealists are the best artists to feature in a hotel room.
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