Jim and I are on a mountaintop at the home of Jim's friends Chris and Barbara. Chris picked us up at the San Francisco airport and brought us here. We seemed to be driving a long time after we crossed the Golden Gate.
We picked up some takeout burritos by Chris' house, then he turned on some tiny side street, which went up and up and up. When we leave tomorrow, it's going to be like launching yourself from the top of a black diamond trail.
The flight out was a delay festival. It was Southwest to Midway, then "ATA", the mystery evil code-sharing airway to San Francisco. We made it eventually anyway.