I don’t live in California. Malibu and Beverly Hills are a good 1,200 miles and 18 hours away by car. In my quiet little corner of Washington State, I’m more likely to see Ford trucks than Ferraris. There are more Plymouths here than pimped-out Paganis.
That’s probably true anywhere, but lately I’m noticing more exotics and customized rides that would be more at home on the highways of Southern California than on the pitted and potholed streets of my hometown.
Then, the mother lode: