“California Dreaming” was the song rolling around in my head, off and (mostly) on for almost two weeks. Not the Mamas and Papas version, but the grungier, more visceral Cam Cole version. Worth checking out, if you haven’t already. A one-man band, alone with his own interpretation, much as I imagined myself on this spectacular coastal section of a solo coast-to-coast road trip. Countless people before me have driven the west coast of the U.S. on Highway 101 and I’ll wager most saw a lot more of it than I did.

This is the euphemistic phrase a riding buddy used for the first pee break on a trail ride, explaining the rest of the outing would

Dave Levingston and I were never going to get along. Fifty years ago there was no way we’d become best friends. Back in our college years Ohio University had two schools of photography, as different as night and day.