Three full days driving, with stops in Roseburg, Oregon and Davis, California, took us to Cathedral City, just outside Palm Springs. The Western Red Buds blooming beside the highway perked us up as we entered Northern California. In Davis we walked the agricultural buffer around the golf course where the tiny burrowing owls let us get close enough for a good look! Kites and other small birds flitted from shrub to tree.
Palm Springs was all about family time and soaking up the sun. Tennis, shopping and eating filled in the spare moments. Where else could you get a cheap windshield replacement while playing tennis?
Then it was back to the Sacramento area for a few days with Judy and Mike. It was pleasant strolling the riverside walk past the Tower Bridge, then through the State Capitol botanical gardens. Arnie was nowhere in sight. He is supposed to have a hideaway where he can smoke his cigars, but maybe he was at his home in PS or tooling around in one of his Hummers. It was the weekend, after all.
Yosemite was all we hoped for; we arrived just in time to be greeted with sun and warm weather for the three days we were there. We travelled through some attractive rural countryside on quiet roads en route, through the picturesque western town of Sonora, and arrived in the Valley mid-afternoon. We had time to check out the classic views of El Capitan, Half Dome and several of the falls before heading out of the park to our motel, Cedar Lodge, in the town of El Portal, on Route 140. The term "town" was a bit misleading as the sign is plunked in the middle of the highway not near any centre; we raced up and down the highway a few times before we came upon the lodge, thankful to be off the road at last.
Judy and Mike joined us that night and the next day we returned to the park to hike and view Bridalveil Fall and Mirror Lake up close. Only the Valley is open this time of year, where the falls were spectacular; it's late May before you can drive to Glacier Point or through Tioga Pass. Mike and I tried to capture Ansel Adams images of the moon rising over Half Dome from Tunnel View just before sunset. Somehow mine just doesn't look like Ansel's! On our third day, Jim and I made a gruelling 10 km return hike to the Upper Yosemite Fall. While the distance is not that far, the terrain is steep and rugged. Walking back along the road to the village I felt my soles go "flip-flop, flip-flop" as they parted company from my boots!
From Yosemite, we visited my cousins, Art and Marianne, in Los Gatos, about 45 miles S/E of San Francisco. I'd only met them once, 20 years ago, but we've kept up Christmas correspondence and they very graciously invited us to stay with them; Art offered to be our tour guide. He is justifiably proud of being a native San Franciscan and spent two days showing us his favourite sights (left, the "Painted Ladies" of Steiner Street), along with some of his favourite dining spots.
One day we had lunch at The Slanted Door, a Vietnamese restaurant in the Ferry Building, with close-up views of the Oakland Bay Bridge. The next day, after working up an appetite walking across the 1.7 mile Golden Gate Bridge, we munched cones of frites and ate burgers from Niman Ranch, a pioneer in the natural beef movement, at the Absinthe Brasserie and Bar in Hayes Valley, not far from the Civic Center. Half a block from the tony restaurant an absentee beggar had his cup set up to receive donations while he rummaged through the nearby trashcan. Like in all cities, opulence and poverty are side by side. 
On the Wednesday Art drove us down the coast via Highway 1, with a stop just past Monterey at Point Lobos State Reserve, abundant with sea mammals, California cypress and rugged rocks.
The lunch stop, near Big Sur, at Nepenthe (literally "sorrows be chased away") where we dined on the terrace overlooking the misty coastline was a feast for the eyes as well as the tastebuds. I chose an appetizer smoked salmon plate with capers, goat cheese and toasted baguette slices, $13. See http://www.nepenthebigsur.com/ for views from their webcam. 
Somehow we tore ourselves away to continue to our destination of San Simeon, passing a newly-established colony of elephant seals lounging on the beach nearby. The mature animals have the characteristic big snout, but most of those we saw were immature, biding their time until they're big enough to venture offshore. 
The highlight of this coastal excursion was our visit to the Hearst Castle. When W. R. Hearst's father bought the ranchland in the 1870s the family used it as a campground. W.R. inherited the property in 1919 and started building what he called La Cuesta Encantada (The Enchanted Hill) in a Mediterranean theme, reminiscent of buildings in Spain, Mexico and California. By 1947 there were 165 rooms and 127 acres of gardens, terraces, pools and walkways. The buildings are decorated inside and out with Hearst's lavish European collection of art, sculpture, tapesty and furniture; many pieces were dismantled, numbered and shipped for reassembly. You can only view the complex by tour group (after depositing your chewing gum in the trashcan). Check http://www.hearstcastle.com/ 
for tour information. It's run as a State Historical Monument and the guide was very knowledgeable. We took the beginner's Experience Tour through a guesthouse (Casa del Sol) and five rooms of the main house (Casa Grande) as well as terraces and gardens. The piece de resistance was the Roman Pool (above left) glittering with gold leaf Venetian glass tiles. I'm sure many Americans who never make it to the castles of Europe get a good taste from visiting this new world facsimile. Art told us Hearst ran out of room to store his treasures on the Hill and convinced the City of San Francisco to let him store some crates of unassembled treasures in Golden Gate Park, where they were forgotten. Later the markings were destroyed during an earthquake, so they were impossible to reconstruct.
Our return journey to Los Gatos, via Highway 101 included stops at a couple of wineries hidden away in "the next wine country" of Paso Robles, between pastures and emerald green rolling hills covered with spreading oaks. 
We headed for home on Saturday, stopping for a look at the Sundial Bridge in Redding and Mt Shasta again, this time in the sun. California will beckon again, no doubt, as there's always more to savour.
