In Conclusion...

 

Would I do the trip again? No way. But there are aspects of it worth considering for another go-round. First, though, some "must pack" items:

1. Flip-flops. Even if you have a shower in your suite, you really don't want to go paddling around a train car with bare feet.

2. Humidifier. I don't know whether it was the altitude, the recirculating air or...but I have never been so dehydrated in my life. It would'a been good to have a little water vapor machine in my cabin.

3. Eye mask & Ear plugs. I had the mask, I didn't bring ear plugs. Might have made the occasional train announcement more tolerable.

BUT

All that said, I think there's the possibility of putting together a delightful journey. 

1. Fly to Chicago (or Toronto) and take the train(s) west from there. The left two-thirds of this country are beautiful, the overnight trains are bigger and newer, and the entire trip is over a lot sooner. Three ways to go:

a) The route I took (Southwest Chief) Chicago to LA;

b) Across the middle of the US (California Jephyr) Chicago to San Francisco

c) Canada Rail - from Toronto to Vancouver. There are more than a half-dozen options that include "get off for a day or two" along the way. The rooms like way more civilized and the scenery is heroic.

2. Travel with someone. It could be quite the romantic adventure.

3. Get a USA Rail Pass so you can get off anyplace you feel like exploring the region. The deal is "10 stops in 30 days," so more planning is required.

4. Spring for the bigger roomette. While two people can share the space I was in, it's bunk-beds at night and nothing romantic about it. The larger suites looked a lot more civilized.

All in all, a good learning experience. I'm glad I went. I'm glad it's over. I hope you enjoyed the trip through this sparse, but snarky, blog. Thanks for reading! 

All aboard!

Home! (but not finished)

 We were NOT on time to Penn Station last night. After a 72+ hour train ride from Los Angeles to New York, we were ten minutes early. 

Called a Lyft to Dan L's house in Brooklyn and got there by 7:30 (what happened to Monday rush-hour traffic in NYC?). Dan and the car were waiting and I was home by 9pm. Wow. About two hours earlier than my wildest dreams. 

I have one more blog to post later today -- my wrap-up observations about the whole experience. Meanwhile, gonna unpack, do laundry, get mail, etc., etc. 

Albany, NY

Monday, 3:45pm, Albany, NY

Napping and coffee help. Woke up to clearing skies and late afternoon sun (what film directors call ‘the magic hour’) in the state capital. But you wouldn’t know that from the station, which, surprisingly, isn’t anywhere near “downtown.” Had an interesting conversation over lunch with Patrick, a professor of addiction behavioral psychology in Vancouver. He’s on his way to see family in New England and said he was interviewing people on the train; trying to bring a report to his family about the temperature of this country. Hah. I don’t think he was prepared for my POV. (Which you’ll have to ply me with Irish whisky to get my story.) 

We’re three hours from Penn Station and still on time, so I’ll keep hoping that’s true. My plan at this point is to get a Lyft to Brooklyn, pick up my car keys from Dan L and drive back up to Fairfield tonight. Too many different beds in too many different places – I wanna be home! I’ll post a wrap-up or two tomorrow. 

Our Ancestors Were Smarter Than We Are...

In 1857, the U.S. War Department sent Lt. Edward Fitzgerald Beale on a mission to lay out an official government wagon road from Chicago to California. On April 30, 1926, that original trail became the basis for U.S. Route 66, starting at 17 W. Adams Street in Chicago and ending at the Santa Monica Pier in California. Even today, there are designated landmarks and restored buildings all along the 2,448 original miles that pay tribute to its importance in “uniting” our country. So why, you might ask, does that make our forefathers smarter than us? Because…

They Had the Wisdom to Stop in Chicago

Around 10pm Sunday night, about an hour southeast of Chicago, this trip got really old. If I had any winter clothes with me, I would have gotten off in Gary, IN, and walked home. There are people who can do a run like this with no problem. In fact, my across-the-corridor companion, Andrew, is completely nonplussed about going from Santa Rosa to Boston. Maybe the fact that he’s a retired harbor pilot and is used to cramped quarters makes a difference. But right now, in spite of a shower every morning and evening, I just feel…grubby. Y’know that feeling when you just can’t seem to wash the grime off of you? Yes, the train is clean. Yes, the staff is pleasant. Yes, everything is okay…but there’s an embedded dinginess that comes from age and over-cleaning of surfaces. And it’s not helped by the fact that...

Yes, That’s a Fold-Down Sink and Lift-Up Toilet in my Room

Even with my head at this end, personally I have never slept this close to a toilet (with the possible exception of a couple of college weekends when I passed out after making a call on the Porcelain Telephone).

I’ll Stop Whining Now

The day is brightening. The view out my window is Lake Erie with the sparkling towers of Toronto in the distance. My second cuppa coffee has kicked in. I’m about to reach Niagara Falls. So who knows what other adventures this trip will bring?

A Sweet Elegy

ONE MORE post before calling it a night. Stephen Vincent Benet wrote a poem, "American Names," expressing his love for the names American pioneers and frontiersmen gave our cities and towns. The opening stanza goes:

I have fallen in love with American names, 

The sharp names that never get fat, 

The snakeskin-titles of mining-claims, 

The plumed war-bonnet of Medicine Hat, 

Tucson and Deadwood and Lost Mule Flat.

 

and many of us know the last line of his poem as the title of Dee Brown's best-seller:

I shall not rest quiet in Montparnasse. 

I shall not lie easy at Winchelsea. 

You may bury my body in Sussex grass, 

You may bury my tongue at Champmedy. 

I shall not be there. I shall rise and pass. 

Bury my heart at Wounded Knee. 

It came to mind as I was sitting in the lounge and a mellifluous voice came over the speakers in a mesmerizing rhythm:

"Now boarding at platform 2, train number 30, the Capital Limited, stopping at South Bend, Elkhart, Waterloo, Toledo, Sandusky, Elyria, Cleveland, Alliance, Pittsburgh, Connellsville, Cumberland, Martinsburg, Harpers Ferry, Rockville and Washington, DC."

I wanted to go up to her and ask her to read Benet's poem, but decided against it. However, it did make me think of Danny C's love of the allure and magic of railroading....

6 Hours in Chicago

We arrived a few minutes early (!) and I was faced with six hours in Chicago. While I had quite a number of thoughts, the weather was a total deterrent. I was in LA for a month...I've got NO clothes for Chicago in December. S'okay. I've traveled enough the past ten years that six hours in a first class lounge isn't a total hardship. Besides, it gave me the opportunity to take a picture of one of the great holiday trees in the U.S.

It's a little hard to see, but what looks like decorative balls and other items are actually blowups of old train lapel pins. Every train line in the U.S. that Amtrak superseded is up there. The New Haven Railroad. NYCentral. PennCentral. etc. Kinda kool in a kitschy sorta way. 

It's currently 6pm Central time and the train is scheduled to depart at 9:30. Another roomette (thank you, again, Paul & Ellen) and LESS THAN 24 HOURS TO HOME. All I gotta say is, "Phew." There's WiFi aboard the Lake Shore Limited, so I'll be posting tomorrow on a regular schedule. Then a wrap-up post on Tuesday and thanks for following. 

Fear of Flying?

 Two of my dining car mates were pilots. The first one was easy to spot. Bob was wearing his AOPA (Aircraft Owner/Pilots Association) baseball cap. Which made me laugh. Was that the equivalent of the bumper sticker, "My other car is a Ferrari"? But when I met the second pilot at lunch Sunday, (Naval aviator, Ret) it made me think, "Do these pilots know something us airline passengers don't?" Both of them were knocked out when I showed them a couple of of Norman S's early aviation paintings. The naval pilot loved "Doolittle's Raid" and the private plane owner especially loved "Maggie and Spenser Go For A Ride." So, Norman, you've got fans aboard Amtrak! This is my last post before Chicago, so enjoy the rest of your day.