“Where are you going?” the driver asks. “Uh, Europe?" I say. "Don’t suppose you’re going that far?” “Europe? That’s ambitious,” he says with a chuckle. “How ‘bout Marysville?” “Marysville it is.” The drive south through the Northern California Sacramento River valley is dotted with small towns and farms, mostly farms. Big farms, small farms, dairy farms, cattle farms, pistachio groves (in fact, my brother Gary, a bearded, rodeo supplies dealer following horse shows arou