Out of Sacramento we're on the 5. The brain-numbing 5, as one friend, Charles, called it. On Sunday morning I expected the traffic to be Sunday lite with few of the big trucks. Wrong. And it's not brain numbing because the big trucks are passing each other, and small cars are passing us at 85 mph. If your brain goes numb on the 5...well I don't want to speculate the tragedy.

We turn off the 5 at the 152 at Gilroy to wend our way down the 101. Immediately there are acres and acres--more like miles and miles--of agriculture. Don't you always wonder when you're driving what is growing in that field? How hard would it be for farmers, or more likely, the agricultural industrial giants, to post a sign or two for the road traveler? Growing chard for you.

After passing hundreds of miles of agriculture on this road trip, we saw only one sign: Growing broccoli for you. Kiss the guy!

Right after we got on the 101 we passed fruit stands selling mostly strawberries and cherries and the highway air smelled distinctly of garlic. Lovely.