But as we skirted the San Jose airspace to the southwest, we found ourselves looking north into a darkening, gray murkiness that afforded a decent view of the western sky, horizon, and mountain peaks sticking up out of the haze, but completely shrouded the landmarks below with a moist curtain of steel tones. This, of course, is where a GPS supposedly comes in handy. So I glanced at the Garmin, saw the airport marking, and steered us toward it. The rest would become clear by the time we needed it to. At eight miles out, I contacted the tower and was cleared, number one, for landing.