AUNTIE C's ADVENTURE JUNE 2015
(these first bits will appear in each post -- scoll down to get to the new stuff)
ORL to WAS = Orlando, Fla., to Washington, D.C., on Silver Meteor 98; sleeper car roomette
WAS to CHI = Washington to Chicago, Ill., on Capitol Limited 29; sleeper car roomette
CHI to PDX = Chicago to Portland, Ore., on Empire Builder 27; sleeper car roomette
PDX to EUG = Portland to Eugene, Ore, on Coast Starlight 11 coach seat
return trip
EUG to SAC = Eugene to Sacramento, Calif., on Coast Starlight 11; sleeper car roomettte
SAC to CHI = Sacramento to Chicago on California Zaphyr 6; sleeper car roomette
CHI to WAS = Chicago to Washington on Capitol Limited 30; sleeper car bedroom
WAS to ORL = Washington to Orlando on Silver Meteor 97; sleeper car roomette
I'll not mention cars or rooms until after I've completed that leg of the trip. Nor do I intend to give the full names of Amtrak crew members -- the nametags state first initial and last name, but they tend to introduce themselves by first name.
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
I picked these up from other trip reports, and will post atop each of mine to remind myself what terms I should use, adding as I learn more. (Then I'll forget and fail to use them.)
LSA-D lead service attendant - diner
TA-SC train attendant - sleeper car
TA-C train atendant - coach
waiter - other service attendants in diner car, as I'm not sure what the official name might be (I will probably end up calling most all diner staff something else, as I did not notice nametags on either attendant during the first leg of my trip -- likely under the aprons.) Non-gender specific.
Red Cap staff member at stations who helps travelers get to and from trains, the club lounges and, I assume, the outside world. Non-gender specific.
INTRODUCTION
I am a 45-year-old Floridian visiting relatives in Oregon after about five years with little contact and no other big vacations. I'm introverted, so comments about struggling to chat with other passengers should be viewed as my own hangup, not any character flaws on their parts.
I've taken two-plus weeks off work for this, my first Amtrak rail journey, to attend a life event for my niece -- hence my chosen moniker for this forum.
I trust the more knowledgeable members of Amtrak Unlimited will correct any errors I make in describing particuars of the trains, stations or other aspects of rail travel. Thanks in advance, and while I won't take such corrections personally, I also won't likely thank you individually.
My primary audience for this are my parents. Dad's a steam train enthusiast in theory, but as Mom doesn't travel well, they don't take vacations, either. I hope my descriptions help them travel vicariously with me to visit their only grandchild a continent away.
I do not intend to post photos, mostly as I can't figure out how to downsize the images my iPad takes with its cracked screen.
I'll slug all my posts with "Auntie C" this or that, for ease of finding (or avoiding) them.
FORMAT
I'm compiling these trip reports from emails I send to a handful of kith and kin, taking out the duller bits (I hope). For the first leg, I started typing while on the Silver Meteor, so real-time intrusions into the narrative are separated by ellipses and perhaps time signatures. If I continue to type as I go, this format might persist. It makes sense to me, an you are welcome to stop reading if it does not appeal to you.
My Bluetooth keyboard, as I discovered in my first email, tends to double some characters. I doubt I'll be diligent in proofing, so please forgive typos.
LEG 3: CHI to PDX, June 3 to 5, 2015, car 2730, roomette 8 (south side)
The Aussie/NZ tour group might be on a special car at the end of this train. As I filed down the long pavement toward the cars, the very back one has a special observation deck at the rear, a glass-walled upper level for part of it and "Hotel" sonething on the side. My sleeper car seems to be the last in the line, and i heard a crew member directing otherss in sleepers to go up six more cars to reach their rooms. I'll find out when I head to dinner.
I did not catch the conductor's name when he made annouccncments, but he made clear some rules, such as not to walk on the train without shoes, and not to open any doors or windows. I think he meant to stipulate external doors, as someone literal-minded such as me might halt at the doors between the cars, trying to obey his orders. (But I know better.)
The train was rolling out of the station by 2:20 p.m. Now at 2:23 as we pull into Glenview station, I've met TA-SC Jesse and had my ticket scanned by the conductor.
The layout of this Superliner roomette dieefers from the one I had on the Capitol Limited. It still has the wide seats and two carpeted steps up to the fold-down bunk, but the walled closet is replaced by a more practical open slot with a carpeted wall and belt midway up to secure anything hanging from the rail. I suspect the carpeting woud muffle the hangers if I put them up on the rail, but I'm not taking the chance -- I've stuffed them down next to the carry-case for my travel pillow in the slot by the seat, then piled my change of clothes for tomorrow on top of it and my second suticase propped over the armrest above it, having wedged my other case under a seat.
The sun is shining brightly as we travel beside a well-manicured drive -- Lehigh Avenue, I spot on a street sign -- and I'm nibbling on food I packed for the trip until dinner. Dinners are reserved seating, but breakfast and lunch are first-come, first-served. I hear soem of my neighbors getting acquainted down the hall. I'm glad they have one another to chat with, as I will likely just remain happily antisocial in my own room.
Jesse confirmed the final car is private, paying good money t hook up to the Amtrak train, but otherwise independent of it. From the back door's window, I can see the top of the glassy observation level of that train. I'm curious about what it looks like inside.
No wifi again, it seems. I hope there are few dead spots for cell reception, so my own gadget will function.
3:30 p.m. the diner steward, who introduced himself as "Crazy Dave," took my dinner reservtion. He told everyone they were trying to run the seatings right on time, so asked we not arrive "too terribly early." I woud think they'd want to get a head start with the first seating on diners, but I'll wait until 4;55 or so to start the hike up six cars to the diner. Two cars up from mine, he said, I'll pass through the lounge, with the cafe on the lower level.
The scenery is consistently fields, with a few barns, industrial buildings and homes interspersed. Saw one deer moving though high grass.
CAR POSITION PUZZLEMENT SOLVED
6:27 p.m. Of course! Someone mentioned, perhapd the Amtrak magazine, the sleeper car for Portland stays at the end of the train, as it will detach with wahtever coach cars to continue that way while the diner car and forward sleeper car(s) go to Seattle. I rememebered this as I made my way through two coach cars, the observation/lounge car and perhaps two more coach cars to reach the diner.
I sat with a woman from coach who wanted to try the diner during her short jaunt from Glenview station to whatever we hit about 10 p.m. tonight -- looking at the schedule, must be St. Paul/Minneapolis, Minnesota. We shared the table with another couple from the sleeper car, served jointly by wonderful Mary and Crazy Dave. They quietly came to each table at the 5 p.m. seating to say one couple celebrates their 50th anniversary today, and they'd do something after the meal.
When the time came, Mary led us in singing Happy Anniversary to a tune similar to "Happy Birthday," and Dave brought out champagne for that table, draping a napkin over one arm because, he said, it looks more fancy. I'd only brought one of my little train pins, so I'll need to bring one for Dave in the morning (or whomever my main server might be).
I wrote a reminder note to myself to pack honey-mustard dressing and croutons for my return trip. The side salad is fresh, but I keep wanting to dress it up a bit more.
VOLUNTEERS IN THE LOUNGE
The coach diner mentioned there were volunteers with the National Park Service stationed iin the observatory. I spotted them on my way back to brush my teeth. They said they don't announce their talks, just speak about whatever's passing by.
Let's see, at 6:37 p.m. now, as we pull into Tomah station, they said there were cranberry bogs nearby. I'm a bit tired (and shy) to go back, so I'll hope they're on my south side of the car.
A few people noted my braid as I walked through the cars. When it's not in a bun, I worry I'll inadvertently whap someone in the face if the train sways the wrong way. No casualties yet, but I get questions about whether I'll donate to Locks of Love. My standard answer: They want the healthier hair closer to the head, not the feet of scraggly old stuff at the end, and I'm not yet ready to cut my hair that short.
The lawn outside the station in Tomah, Wisconsin, looks lovely. There's a small hand-push rail car on maybe 6 feet of trasck by the city sign -- cute!
MAYBE NO SO SHY
My dining companions challenged my claims of introversion, as I was able to converse intelligently with them. I briefly re-examined my philosophy, and offered this: I'm OK talking with individuals once I meet them, but the overall concept of "people" spooks me.
I am not a poeple person. My people are not people people. If I speak with someone one on one, I can usually find comon ground for small talk, or can ask intelligent questions to get them talking and spare my the chore of being more social.
... 6:49 p.m. a tunnel! We went through some on other trains as we moved through metro areas, but this one was lengthy and rural. (Remember, topology intrigues me because tunnels in Florida are either sinkholes or drainage canals.) ...
So I still think of myself as hermitly. I'm sort of sneaking my train pins in with tips as I leave, not presenting them to the crew and explaining they are part of my first train adventure -- because then I might have to talk to "people." I''m happily tapping away at this trip report in my roomette, door closed, instead of possibly interacting with "people" to listen to the great park volunteers. (Volunteers, as a species, rock -- as a chaplain at the hospice where I volunteer used to say, although he didn't term us "species" -- that's all me.)
Sigh. as 7 p.m. approaches (8 p.m. Eastern), I suspect I'll soon call the TA-SC to set up the bed. I might not fall asleep right away, but I'm yawning more and more even though I had Mountain Dew (hooray!) with dinner.
... 6:57 p.m., the nameless conductor came on the PA to explain why the train has stopped -- they must throw a switch in order to get on the correct track for our next stop, maybe 15 or 20 minutes away. Nice of him to keep us informed, though I wish he'd state his name so I can properly credit him. ...
Perhaps I'll shower now, and deal with the wet pillow.
NEW PLUMBING TO DESCRIBE
8:07 p.m. Where did this rain come from?
I wish I could describe the wonders on Lacrosse, Wisconsin, but I was in the shower. We are entering Winona, Minnesota, station as I type this.
The shower room on the Superliner seems more spacious than that on the Viewliner, although the changing area is smaller. (Someone on the AU forum could doubtless provide exact dimensions, should you be curious.) The seat in the area was taken up by the stacks of clean towels, so I set my toiletries case and pajamas on the slight shelf below the mirror and hung my day clothes on various hooks. Once I got one foot free of shoe and sock, I set that bare foot into the shower area for more space to remove the other shoe.
The shower space itself has more room to maneuver. I snapped the curtain closed on both walls, setting shampoo and conditioner bottles on the large soap shelf. Another grab rail came in handy, although I lucked out by washing up at a stop. The train picked up speed as it went to Winona, which might have proved trickier for maintaining balance. I still dropped my used bar of soap as I was cleaning up aaafterwards and kicked it out under the door, into the hall. No one saw, fortunately, and I dumped it in the trash. I again used two towels, one for the hair, one for skin, then floor, picking up stray hairs and sock fuzz so as not to skeeve out the next person.
TA-SC Jesse had set up my bed while I was out, so I'm now comfortably perched on my resting space, after using the open door into the corridor when combing out the mane.
The dimming sky is overcast, and water on the window and landscape indicates recent, if not continuing rain.
I'll send this out, and plan to watch screen until I am sleepy.
9:20 p.m. the train stopped outside the St. James Hotel and a brick building marked Red Wing Iron Works. I had earplugs in, so I did not hear an announcement, only a voice over the PA.
A police car parked on my side of the tracks, and police officers escorted out at least one persn. It is too dark to see much, but they have his bags, too.
Wonder if I will ever learn more?
SO THIS IS WHAT NORTH DAKOTA LOOKS LIKE
7:45 a.m. Thursday, June 4, 2015, past Grand Forks, North Dakota, there are long lengths of fields along gentle slopes. I'd call them hills, but the change between one lumpy bit of field and the next is gradual. Clumps of trees indicate farms or homes, and a few ducks and geese seem to settle in any large puddle.
I slept well, waking the final time just after 6 a.m. New train tip I learned for mysself last night: open the door first, then one has more space to don shoes ffor a midnight trip to the loo.
TA-SC Jesse was on the job after I put myself together and toddled off to the diner for breakfast, and he had my roomettte reset to seats upon my return.
I was careful, walking through the coach cars, not to jostle any of the heads tilted out into the aisles, or the feet of those who managed to snag a double seat for themselves to curl awkwardly in sleep. This renewed my appreciation for the sleeper cars. I know this sounds snobbish, but even the quality of the air is better --- passing through the coach cars even last night, the odor of humanity pervades the atmosphere in coach -- part unwashed bodies, part random foodstuffs, part something else.
I sat with another woman from my car headed to Portland, and a mother and daughter visiting relatives here in North Dakota. Though the roasted potatoes were fewer in number than the first omlette I tried back on the Silver Meteor, the eggs were fluffier and the tomatoes and onions fresh (maybe not the mushrooms, but I'm not a fan of them anyhow). One woman ordered the continental breakfast -- I was pleased to see oatmeal was an option, but the grapefruit was cut into long wedges, not a straight-through-the-middle bisection that makes eating the internal fruit easier; and the yogurt had strawberries (I avoid them). As my final breakfast will be on this same train heading into Portland tomorrow, I suspect I'll see something like the continental option then.
After saying grace before his meal, I hear a young hunter getting to know his taablemate: "So I'll name animals, and you tell me if you've killed them."
Our waiter, a young man named Yonis, was polite and attentive, offering refills of drinks and promptly removing dishes. The car was filling up, so I did not linger to chat -- not that I would opt to do that anyway. I hear LSA-D Dave making announcements for the reservations he started taking for breakfast times for other sleeper-car passengers when the room filled.
As I watched the grass-filled ponds pass by, I had to remind myself not to look for alligators. That's one of the fun things to do when driving through Soutth Florida, espically the aptly named Alligator Alley from Naples across thee Everglades to the metro sprawl I think of as Miami, but is really many municipalities separated by stoplights. In my part of north Central Florida, the gators tend to live in the rivers and lakes, not the ditches alongside the interstates.
... 8:07 a.m., a woman's voice just announced the food service is open on the lower level of the lounge car, "no line, no waiting list; immediate service available" until 11 p.m. ...
I see a few semi tractor-trailers driving along a distant highway parallel to the tracks, and the backsides of cow pastures (and cows) in fields separated by a fence and a ditch from the rails. The hills roll more now, so I can catch glimpses of homes and more fields in the distance, not just a ridge of grasslands. ... Alhough now I squint more at the fenceposts, I'm not sure there's any wire strung on them for some non-cattle fields.
It's fun to guess how long a home has stood by the height of the trees surrounding it. Lines of fir trees seem to be the preferred wind/sun breaks.
... 8:13 a.m., the nameless conductor announced our pending arrival in Rugby, North Dakota, "the geographical center of the United States." Neat! I wish my neighbor had his curtains open, so I could peek out the northern side of the train.
Just as I sat down to breakfast, we passed a loop of track with several frieght cars -- grain cars, my dining companions said -- near a large silo. Makes sense. Some of the silos passing by my window now are so shiny they look new, although perhaps they're well maintined. The fields are more dirt than green. I'd guess it's a cool morning out there. Though my in-room thermostst iss cranked to "warmer," I can't seem to stop the cool air from blowing on me fron the ceiling vent -- if I shift the slide the other way, I get a greater volume of cool air. So, I'll snuggle up to the warm vents under the exterior window, and put on a second overshirt if I get too cold. (Mom told me to bring a jacket, but I could not conceive of needing it as I packed in 96-degree steam back home.)
8:24 a.m., a graveyard brings color to the landscape, with bright (artificial?) flowers at most every stone. A trailer park gives way to single-family site-built hhomes, or at least a better class of modular homes, before the brickwork of what must be downtown Rugby. The brick pavers of the sidewalk along the station show their age -- some bricks are weathered down to fractured striations, others still sport "MINNESOTA CERAMIC" on them.
Tee hee! Large red plastic lettters on one building past a livery store spell out "RUGBY SAYS HI" to train passengers -- city-sanctioned graffiti? I've seen none of the spray-pinted sort here. Another graveyard leaving town has more trees, fewer flowers, then we're back to fields and clumps of trees.
When I peeked out the too-sunny back window, I saw heads in the observation leevel of the private car. Thought about waving at them, but they're too far away, past the single-level span of that car that might hold its dining and crew quarters.
Back to watching my small screen. Though I have ebooks and hidden-object games I can play offline, I suspect I might get a bit motion sick if I attempted to do such detailed eye-work on the jostling train.
8:38 a.m., a man's voice gave a public service announcement with ettiquette reminders: this is a nonsmoking train; drink responsibly; and for those who might be treating this as though they're in a nightclub, please remember this is a family train, and to keep language at a G-rated, not PG, level. (I suppose they had complaints in a coach car.)
...Aha! Figured out my airflow problem: with the door and door curtain open, I was getting the blow from the vent in the corridor. Now closed, the room seems cozier.
9:08 a.m., another PA announcement from a woman's voice saying Amtrak is a family train, and no swearing is permitted. She ended with, "This is your last warning," so I think whatever group of adults is committing the offense could gget booted off the train if they persist.
9:45 a.m. Minot, North Dakota, will be the train's first service stop, adding fuel and supplies, removing trash. The conductor said it will be a 20-minute stop, for those wishing to go smoke or stretch their legs.
... and water does not flow in the toilet's sink, or from the icewater spout outside it to rinse off the soap on my hands during the Minot stop. Sigh. Several passengers got out to pick their way over the gravel and turn around to look at the outside of the train. Someone passing in the hall expressed curiosity about the private car in back.
An LED billboard on a nearby furniture shop states the temperature is 60 degrees F. Different-colored patches of paint on the supports of a highway overpass indicate places where graffiti was -- this must be a larger town. Why ddo some taggers use such bloated, elaborate lettering? San-serif fonts are much more readable.
As we pulled out, the conductor said we'll travel at 79 mph, giving tips to widen one's stance if having trouble walking. He also said we're an hour behind schedule, hoping to be caught up by the time we hit Shelby, Montana. Dining car LSA-D then said lunch will begin at 11:30 a.m. Mountain time, and to wait for the annnouncement before heading to the dining car.
The hills west of Minot have many wrinkles, making them more visually interesting. A crew member down the hall told someone 100 extra people got on in Minot, because school just got out for the summer. I did not see anyone from this ffar back on the train, maybe 300 yards out from the station -- but i'm a bad judge of distances. One new set of sleeper passengers seem to have joined my car.
11:27 a.m. Central time, as I spotted small oil pumps on distant hills, TA-SC Jesse stopped by to check in with each passenger. I asked about the police incident last night, and he said a man got irate with a girl who claimed to be 18 "to hang out with the big kids." The girl is now on house arrest in her seat, he said. There's doubtless more to the story than I'll ever learn third-hand.
Jesse said the same thing woulld have happened with the swearing adults, if they had continued, as the conductors on the train now don't tolerate such things. Good to know.
Four mules grazing in one pasture, another field of dead cars past a ditch.
11:38 a.m., my first sighting of a corral of small modular homes set in narrow rows on dirt. At least trailer parks in my home state have personality. These look too new to have tenants. We must be near the oil patch. I could not tell it from the otherwise rolling fields of cropland.
Ah, appraently we've crossed into Mountain time, as the dining car just reminded everyone the current time is 10:44 a.m., with lunch open at 11:30. My tech has yet to switch zones.
COACHED ON COACH
12:55 p.m. Mountian time
As I returned from a surprise lunch, I chatted with the train attendant - coach who's in charge of the car directly ahead of my sleeper. (The surprise was, after hearing the steward annound the room was full and for people to come make reservations for later seating, myself and another single rider from my car got to squeeze in at not-full tables to eat right then. I'd gone up without my usual gear, so I could not include a train pin with my tip -- I'll have to catch my lunch server at dinner.)
The coach attendant, whose name I did not yet get (I later learned itt was Debby, however she might spell it), had been one of the ones to compliment me on my hair last niight. She noticed I had it bunned today, and we talked about hairstyles for a while as she cleaned hair and other bits of trash from her carpet sweeper at the back of the car.
She spoke about keeping an eye on the passengers in her area, and how she could tell some were smokers by how restless they'd get. I liked her, and I'll make sure to behave during my short leg of travel in coach on Friday.
She's the one tasked with monitoring the girl involved in the police incident laast night. I asked, so she told me she's worked for Amtrak for more than eight years now. Impressive.
A conductor makes periodic announcements as we pull into and out of stations, about how the summer rush has begun and the cars are full, so single riders might be asked to move so families may sit together. From his tone of voice, this is standard practice for coach, where your ticket guarantees you a seat, bbut not a specific location.
THINKING OF YOU, SAM NEILL
2 p.m. Mountin time, still Thursday, June 4 -- public-service mural on the side of a brick building in Glasgow, Montana: "Meth is a dead end."
I've not been in Montana before. The one bit of the film adaptation "The Hunt for Red October" of Tom Clancy's novel I remember is Sam Neill's Russian character, stating how he'd hoped to live in Montana. The actor's wistful look as he died (hope I'm not spoiling the movie for anyone) made me think well of the state.
2:41 p.m., the conductor just came on the PA to again ask everyone to refrain from cussing and swearing. He said he had two passengers removed for swearing in Glasgow who are now jailed there. Wow.
This stretch of tracks is in a cellular dead zone. I had hoped to check email and the AU forum while traveling, but I must wait until we reach more populated areas.
4:57 p.m. pulling out of a fuel/stretch/smoke stop in Havre, the dining car announced seating would be delayed 5-ish minutes each time. I booked for 7:15, so I will see how it goes.
HERD OF ELK? OF COURSE I'VE HEARD OF ELK
9:08 p.m. Mountain time
A few minutes after cresting Marias Pass through thr Rocky Mountains, wondering what technician had to lay the fiber-optic cable whose markers I see along the tracks, I spot 10 to a dozen large deer, or perhaps elk: no antlers, white backsides, but their heads looked more like horses -- mule deer, maybe?
My dinner time was called on time, and I sat with a mom and her daughters from the coach car where the two women had been removed and arrested due to drunkenness and foul language.
Though the sun shines on the tops of the mountains, it still feels closer to 11 p.m. Eastern time, and my bedtime. I'd hoped train travel might lessen jet lag, but the trip has not fully removed the adjustment period for me.
I've pressed the attendant call button to get the bed set up. I can't seem to get the table back in its slot, either -- I wrestled with it last night successfully, but no luck today.
PORTLAND BOUND
7:34 a.m. Pacific time Friday, June 5, 2015
I thought I was doing well, sleeping in until 6:30 before showering and dressing for the day -- until someone else came back from looking for breakfast in the lounge car to say it did not open until 6:30, about 5 minutes from then. I realized my fitness/activity-tracker watch syncs up to my iPad only when it has an Internet connection. Since I'd not booted up the myfi recently, the watch was still on Mountain time.
I got to talk briefly with TA-SC Jesse. He's been with Amtrak 22 years, the past 15 on the Empire Builder run. I asked, and he said he gets maybe 4 hours of sleep per night while on duty. He'll stay overnight in Potland -- not out partying the way some others choose to do, he said -- then start his shift again with the afternoon run of the EB back toward Chicago. (When later I told him why I was typing so much on my keyboard, he said he'd better not see anything about him in print -- so if you read this, please don't print it out.)
The lounge attendant -- I don't know the proper term for her job, but would guess train attendant - lounge? -- who was the only person using the PA system to say her name (Catherine? Caroline? I've forgotten), also said she'd had about 4 hours of sleep as she almost put my entire plastic box of breakfasst criossant, blackberry cobbler and fruit cubes into the microwave rather than just the sandwich. Technically, the croissant still had meat cooties when I asked her to remove the ham, but I was hungry enough to scarf down the bread and melted cheese. A 4-ounce tub of raspberry yogurt completed the standard meal given to sleeper-car passengers. You can find the full lounge menu elsewhere -- the box of doughnut holes seemed popular with the coach riders in line for food.
I ate at a table upstairs to watch the view on both sides, squinting as the rising sun hit me from the eastern side of the car. Someone else there said the train might be running 45 minutes late so far. I think we stopped at Pasco, Washington, station as I was in the lounge, but I did not see the sign, just a nice-looking bus station.
If our next stop is Wishram, Washington, I'll be able to compare our arrival time there with the route timetable.
I fear I might have left my favorite hair stick way back on the Silver Meteor, as I've not fund it yet rummaging through purse or toiletry case. Once I reach my ddestination, I can unpack everything for a proper search. Similarly, I know I had nail clippers back at the Chicago Metropolitan lounge, but can't find them now. Hangnails drive me nuts.
...7:56 a.m., Jesse told another passenger we're running 1.5 hours late. A conductor said over the PA shortly after that we should make Portland by 11:10 a.m. ...
We lost the private car overmight in Spokane, as Jesse said it was headed to Seattle. I looked it up: sierrahotel.com tells all about the business -- it's self-contained with four bedrooms, allowing up to eight guests per overnight trip, or a maximum of 16 guests for shorter events. Cost estimate is $4,000 to $6,000 per night (I assume per person), so my guess it was the large Aussie/Kiwi tour group from Chicago was incorrect. The site offers a virtual tour of the car, so I could get a peek inside that way if I'm ever curious.
I woke for a few bumps and clangs as our set of cars decouppled from those headed to Seattle, and noticed about 4:40 a.m. that the power was out when I could not flush the toilet -- the sink water ran, an overhead light shone dimly and the warning light was not on to indicate the room was out of service, but I guess of the power was out, the warning light would not come on. A few minutes later, the air started blowing again through the vents, so I guess we reconnected to whatever power supply runs the car. Our sleeper is now the end of the train, with an unobscured view out the back door/window. Two coach cars, then the lounge/observatory car just before the shorter baggage car and engine(s?)
We're passing along a narrow lake or wide river (Columbia?), with wind turbines dotting various distant hills as we approach Wishram.
From reading other trip reports, I know I should be able to avail myself of the sleeper-car lounge in Portland even though the final leg of my journey is in coach this afternoon. Although I do quite like the black bean and corn veggie burgers, I'm kind of craving pizza. Or a veggie sub. Something without pasta.
According to my fitness tracker, I have not slept since Sunday night. Whatever sensors it uses to track motion must get confused by the rattling of the train car.
8:50 a.m., slowig down as we pass farms with rows of grapes and some sort of fruit trees -- apple?, something thst I do not see in Florida, at any rate -- in the flat lad between the ridge with the railroad tracks and the curving river. Saw a coupld of tents pitched on one spit of land by the river, the car parked up near the gravel track leading to a paved road for the farms and homes. Also saw long lines of freight cars moving along tracks on the other side of the river several minutes ago.
TUNNELS AND TERRAFORMING
9:34 a.m., still traveling along what must be the Columbia River, we're passing through series of tunnels carved into the mountians.
That is so cool!
OK, so there's nothing to see when inside a tunnell -- unlike other madmade caverns, there are no guide lights every few feet, no skylights for rail tunnels. They are short enough I'd be able to see daylight at one end or another if I somehow set foot in them outisde of the train. I expect this section of track is remote enough that few thrillseekers could reach them to try to walk inside.
But I enjoy imagining there might be a side door leading to an otherwise inaccessible valley or secret castle -- If I look at just the right time through the darkened windows, I might spot it.
CLOSE CONNIPTIONS FOR THE WILDLIFE-IMPAIRED
I also find myself peering into the waters when the tracks run close, hoping to spot a turtle. I see bouys in the river marking -- what? crab traps in fresh waterr? -- and longer lines indicating fish nets. Many species of avians, but I wwant to see a turtle. Don't evcen know if the waters are too cold to support them.
If I saw an otter or beaver (OK, I admit I'm geographically challenged, this might not be the place for beavers), I'd be happy.
A moose? I'd go into conniptions of joy.
Yeah, I'm a dork. Taking a grand adventure across the country using a form of ttransport more people should try, and I'm looking for aquatic reptiles.
... Pulled in to Wishram station at 9:43 a.m. ...
Seeing the highways, rail lines, farms and structures along the river valley makes me wonder what it looked like before we modern humans terraformed the area. There likely were no flat spots outside of floodplains, no easy passages through the mountains other than this wide river. A National Park Service volunteer spoke over the PA as we approached Marias Pass through the Rockies last night, to explain the obelisk monument to one president and the statue dedicated to another engineer who discovered the pass for the rail lines. Once we passed the summit, I noticed how the streams all ran in the other direction --- always downhill, as physics demand, now heading west down the slopes rather than east.
As the train moved through with rocky fill on one side building up the tracks from the river and woodland or lumpy rock walls on the other, I better understand why the explorers Lewis and Clark used canoes for much of their travels. Obvious once I remember there were no roads or highways, things I take for granted.
9:51 a.m. oooooh! My first clear view of Mount Hood, I think, poking at the clouds to the south. Then it's gone behind closer, lesser peaks (and another tunnel).
10:43 a.m. wow, there are some niiiice houses on this side of the river. Why would anyone go to the expense of an outdoor pool, though? Must be heated.
Even the elevated second level of the sleeper car is not tall enugh to peek over the privacy walls of Steamboat Landing subdsivision -- the roofs look swanky, if close together.. I'm spotting some well-tended lawns through the trees, as well as warning signs stating the premises are monitored via cameras. The railward side of most structures are nothing special. All the picture windows must face the water. Their loss -- I would've waved.
10:58 a.m., I see people walking and roller-blading along a riverside park as we near whatever the next station might be ... Vancouver, they announce. Then a large industrial complex of tall scaffolds and silos near warehouses.
The roometes have slowly emptied as othhers reach their destinations, so I can scoot down the corridor to peer out north-side windows, if we're still mostly traveling west. We've done so many curves around the mountins to get here, we could be going south at this point. (Should've downloaded that tracker app.)
11:39 a.m., inside Portland station
I must have misread the informaiton about there being a special waiting area for sleeper-car passengers in Portland. Neon signs point out bag claim, newsstand, waiting area, but nothing similar to Club Acela or the Metropolitan lounge. I guess I won't walk around Portland after all, or eat lunch other than the meal bars I packed. The acoustics in the wide, marbled hall mangle the announcements over the PA. I'll pay more attention in two hours when my departure time nears.
I found a seat on a bend outside the women's restroom. At least I can watch other travelers. Now to see if there's wifi ... nope, nothing unsecured. I'd have to go up to the ticket counter to ask, as nno one staffed the informaiton desk I passed. then I'd have to talk to people.
Time to plug in earbuds and ... wait. Do coach passengers get the same luggage allowance as sleepers? Sigh. Guess I've got to check in at the ticket counter anyhow.
11:59 a.m., so glad I did that! I must be blind, there was a sign for the Metropolitan lounge, and a door tucked into the wall as the entryway leads to the trains. I nice man at the main ticket counter check my tickets and said I may wait there, since i was on a sleeper, and the attendand inside the lounge ggave me my coach boarding pass: a white slip of paper with EUG 1 on it.
Having stashed my bags (no change in the limit, hooray), I can walk about outside the station, if I dare. I'm going to enjoy my complimentary beverage, log in using the wifi password placed at the various groupings of chairs in the lunge, and then decide.
(these first bits will appear in each post -- scoll down to get to the new stuff)
ORL to WAS = Orlando, Fla., to Washington, D.C., on Silver Meteor 98; sleeper car roomette
WAS to CHI = Washington to Chicago, Ill., on Capitol Limited 29; sleeper car roomette
CHI to PDX = Chicago to Portland, Ore., on Empire Builder 27; sleeper car roomette
PDX to EUG = Portland to Eugene, Ore, on Coast Starlight 11 coach seat
return trip
EUG to SAC = Eugene to Sacramento, Calif., on Coast Starlight 11; sleeper car roomettte
SAC to CHI = Sacramento to Chicago on California Zaphyr 6; sleeper car roomette
CHI to WAS = Chicago to Washington on Capitol Limited 30; sleeper car bedroom
WAS to ORL = Washington to Orlando on Silver Meteor 97; sleeper car roomette
I'll not mention cars or rooms until after I've completed that leg of the trip. Nor do I intend to give the full names of Amtrak crew members -- the nametags state first initial and last name, but they tend to introduce themselves by first name.
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
I picked these up from other trip reports, and will post atop each of mine to remind myself what terms I should use, adding as I learn more. (Then I'll forget and fail to use them.)
LSA-D lead service attendant - diner
TA-SC train attendant - sleeper car
TA-C train atendant - coach
waiter - other service attendants in diner car, as I'm not sure what the official name might be (I will probably end up calling most all diner staff something else, as I did not notice nametags on either attendant during the first leg of my trip -- likely under the aprons.) Non-gender specific.
Red Cap staff member at stations who helps travelers get to and from trains, the club lounges and, I assume, the outside world. Non-gender specific.
INTRODUCTION
I am a 45-year-old Floridian visiting relatives in Oregon after about five years with little contact and no other big vacations. I'm introverted, so comments about struggling to chat with other passengers should be viewed as my own hangup, not any character flaws on their parts.
I've taken two-plus weeks off work for this, my first Amtrak rail journey, to attend a life event for my niece -- hence my chosen moniker for this forum.
I trust the more knowledgeable members of Amtrak Unlimited will correct any errors I make in describing particuars of the trains, stations or other aspects of rail travel. Thanks in advance, and while I won't take such corrections personally, I also won't likely thank you individually.
My primary audience for this are my parents. Dad's a steam train enthusiast in theory, but as Mom doesn't travel well, they don't take vacations, either. I hope my descriptions help them travel vicariously with me to visit their only grandchild a continent away.
I do not intend to post photos, mostly as I can't figure out how to downsize the images my iPad takes with its cracked screen.
I'll slug all my posts with "Auntie C" this or that, for ease of finding (or avoiding) them.
FORMAT
I'm compiling these trip reports from emails I send to a handful of kith and kin, taking out the duller bits (I hope). For the first leg, I started typing while on the Silver Meteor, so real-time intrusions into the narrative are separated by ellipses and perhaps time signatures. If I continue to type as I go, this format might persist. It makes sense to me, an you are welcome to stop reading if it does not appeal to you.
My Bluetooth keyboard, as I discovered in my first email, tends to double some characters. I doubt I'll be diligent in proofing, so please forgive typos.
LEG 3: CHI to PDX, June 3 to 5, 2015, car 2730, roomette 8 (south side)
The Aussie/NZ tour group might be on a special car at the end of this train. As I filed down the long pavement toward the cars, the very back one has a special observation deck at the rear, a glass-walled upper level for part of it and "Hotel" sonething on the side. My sleeper car seems to be the last in the line, and i heard a crew member directing otherss in sleepers to go up six more cars to reach their rooms. I'll find out when I head to dinner.
I did not catch the conductor's name when he made annouccncments, but he made clear some rules, such as not to walk on the train without shoes, and not to open any doors or windows. I think he meant to stipulate external doors, as someone literal-minded such as me might halt at the doors between the cars, trying to obey his orders. (But I know better.)
The train was rolling out of the station by 2:20 p.m. Now at 2:23 as we pull into Glenview station, I've met TA-SC Jesse and had my ticket scanned by the conductor.
The layout of this Superliner roomette dieefers from the one I had on the Capitol Limited. It still has the wide seats and two carpeted steps up to the fold-down bunk, but the walled closet is replaced by a more practical open slot with a carpeted wall and belt midway up to secure anything hanging from the rail. I suspect the carpeting woud muffle the hangers if I put them up on the rail, but I'm not taking the chance -- I've stuffed them down next to the carry-case for my travel pillow in the slot by the seat, then piled my change of clothes for tomorrow on top of it and my second suticase propped over the armrest above it, having wedged my other case under a seat.
The sun is shining brightly as we travel beside a well-manicured drive -- Lehigh Avenue, I spot on a street sign -- and I'm nibbling on food I packed for the trip until dinner. Dinners are reserved seating, but breakfast and lunch are first-come, first-served. I hear soem of my neighbors getting acquainted down the hall. I'm glad they have one another to chat with, as I will likely just remain happily antisocial in my own room.
Jesse confirmed the final car is private, paying good money t hook up to the Amtrak train, but otherwise independent of it. From the back door's window, I can see the top of the glassy observation level of that train. I'm curious about what it looks like inside.
No wifi again, it seems. I hope there are few dead spots for cell reception, so my own gadget will function.
3:30 p.m. the diner steward, who introduced himself as "Crazy Dave," took my dinner reservtion. He told everyone they were trying to run the seatings right on time, so asked we not arrive "too terribly early." I woud think they'd want to get a head start with the first seating on diners, but I'll wait until 4;55 or so to start the hike up six cars to the diner. Two cars up from mine, he said, I'll pass through the lounge, with the cafe on the lower level.
The scenery is consistently fields, with a few barns, industrial buildings and homes interspersed. Saw one deer moving though high grass.
CAR POSITION PUZZLEMENT SOLVED
6:27 p.m. Of course! Someone mentioned, perhapd the Amtrak magazine, the sleeper car for Portland stays at the end of the train, as it will detach with wahtever coach cars to continue that way while the diner car and forward sleeper car(s) go to Seattle. I rememebered this as I made my way through two coach cars, the observation/lounge car and perhaps two more coach cars to reach the diner.
I sat with a woman from coach who wanted to try the diner during her short jaunt from Glenview station to whatever we hit about 10 p.m. tonight -- looking at the schedule, must be St. Paul/Minneapolis, Minnesota. We shared the table with another couple from the sleeper car, served jointly by wonderful Mary and Crazy Dave. They quietly came to each table at the 5 p.m. seating to say one couple celebrates their 50th anniversary today, and they'd do something after the meal.
When the time came, Mary led us in singing Happy Anniversary to a tune similar to "Happy Birthday," and Dave brought out champagne for that table, draping a napkin over one arm because, he said, it looks more fancy. I'd only brought one of my little train pins, so I'll need to bring one for Dave in the morning (or whomever my main server might be).
I wrote a reminder note to myself to pack honey-mustard dressing and croutons for my return trip. The side salad is fresh, but I keep wanting to dress it up a bit more.
VOLUNTEERS IN THE LOUNGE
The coach diner mentioned there were volunteers with the National Park Service stationed iin the observatory. I spotted them on my way back to brush my teeth. They said they don't announce their talks, just speak about whatever's passing by.
Let's see, at 6:37 p.m. now, as we pull into Tomah station, they said there were cranberry bogs nearby. I'm a bit tired (and shy) to go back, so I'll hope they're on my south side of the car.
A few people noted my braid as I walked through the cars. When it's not in a bun, I worry I'll inadvertently whap someone in the face if the train sways the wrong way. No casualties yet, but I get questions about whether I'll donate to Locks of Love. My standard answer: They want the healthier hair closer to the head, not the feet of scraggly old stuff at the end, and I'm not yet ready to cut my hair that short.
The lawn outside the station in Tomah, Wisconsin, looks lovely. There's a small hand-push rail car on maybe 6 feet of trasck by the city sign -- cute!
MAYBE NO SO SHY
My dining companions challenged my claims of introversion, as I was able to converse intelligently with them. I briefly re-examined my philosophy, and offered this: I'm OK talking with individuals once I meet them, but the overall concept of "people" spooks me.
I am not a poeple person. My people are not people people. If I speak with someone one on one, I can usually find comon ground for small talk, or can ask intelligent questions to get them talking and spare my the chore of being more social.
... 6:49 p.m. a tunnel! We went through some on other trains as we moved through metro areas, but this one was lengthy and rural. (Remember, topology intrigues me because tunnels in Florida are either sinkholes or drainage canals.) ...
So I still think of myself as hermitly. I'm sort of sneaking my train pins in with tips as I leave, not presenting them to the crew and explaining they are part of my first train adventure -- because then I might have to talk to "people." I''m happily tapping away at this trip report in my roomette, door closed, instead of possibly interacting with "people" to listen to the great park volunteers. (Volunteers, as a species, rock -- as a chaplain at the hospice where I volunteer used to say, although he didn't term us "species" -- that's all me.)
Sigh. as 7 p.m. approaches (8 p.m. Eastern), I suspect I'll soon call the TA-SC to set up the bed. I might not fall asleep right away, but I'm yawning more and more even though I had Mountain Dew (hooray!) with dinner.
... 6:57 p.m., the nameless conductor came on the PA to explain why the train has stopped -- they must throw a switch in order to get on the correct track for our next stop, maybe 15 or 20 minutes away. Nice of him to keep us informed, though I wish he'd state his name so I can properly credit him. ...
Perhaps I'll shower now, and deal with the wet pillow.
NEW PLUMBING TO DESCRIBE
8:07 p.m. Where did this rain come from?
I wish I could describe the wonders on Lacrosse, Wisconsin, but I was in the shower. We are entering Winona, Minnesota, station as I type this.
The shower room on the Superliner seems more spacious than that on the Viewliner, although the changing area is smaller. (Someone on the AU forum could doubtless provide exact dimensions, should you be curious.) The seat in the area was taken up by the stacks of clean towels, so I set my toiletries case and pajamas on the slight shelf below the mirror and hung my day clothes on various hooks. Once I got one foot free of shoe and sock, I set that bare foot into the shower area for more space to remove the other shoe.
The shower space itself has more room to maneuver. I snapped the curtain closed on both walls, setting shampoo and conditioner bottles on the large soap shelf. Another grab rail came in handy, although I lucked out by washing up at a stop. The train picked up speed as it went to Winona, which might have proved trickier for maintaining balance. I still dropped my used bar of soap as I was cleaning up aaafterwards and kicked it out under the door, into the hall. No one saw, fortunately, and I dumped it in the trash. I again used two towels, one for the hair, one for skin, then floor, picking up stray hairs and sock fuzz so as not to skeeve out the next person.
TA-SC Jesse had set up my bed while I was out, so I'm now comfortably perched on my resting space, after using the open door into the corridor when combing out the mane.
The dimming sky is overcast, and water on the window and landscape indicates recent, if not continuing rain.
I'll send this out, and plan to watch screen until I am sleepy.
9:20 p.m. the train stopped outside the St. James Hotel and a brick building marked Red Wing Iron Works. I had earplugs in, so I did not hear an announcement, only a voice over the PA.
A police car parked on my side of the tracks, and police officers escorted out at least one persn. It is too dark to see much, but they have his bags, too.
Wonder if I will ever learn more?
SO THIS IS WHAT NORTH DAKOTA LOOKS LIKE
7:45 a.m. Thursday, June 4, 2015, past Grand Forks, North Dakota, there are long lengths of fields along gentle slopes. I'd call them hills, but the change between one lumpy bit of field and the next is gradual. Clumps of trees indicate farms or homes, and a few ducks and geese seem to settle in any large puddle.
I slept well, waking the final time just after 6 a.m. New train tip I learned for mysself last night: open the door first, then one has more space to don shoes ffor a midnight trip to the loo.
TA-SC Jesse was on the job after I put myself together and toddled off to the diner for breakfast, and he had my roomettte reset to seats upon my return.
I was careful, walking through the coach cars, not to jostle any of the heads tilted out into the aisles, or the feet of those who managed to snag a double seat for themselves to curl awkwardly in sleep. This renewed my appreciation for the sleeper cars. I know this sounds snobbish, but even the quality of the air is better --- passing through the coach cars even last night, the odor of humanity pervades the atmosphere in coach -- part unwashed bodies, part random foodstuffs, part something else.
I sat with another woman from my car headed to Portland, and a mother and daughter visiting relatives here in North Dakota. Though the roasted potatoes were fewer in number than the first omlette I tried back on the Silver Meteor, the eggs were fluffier and the tomatoes and onions fresh (maybe not the mushrooms, but I'm not a fan of them anyhow). One woman ordered the continental breakfast -- I was pleased to see oatmeal was an option, but the grapefruit was cut into long wedges, not a straight-through-the-middle bisection that makes eating the internal fruit easier; and the yogurt had strawberries (I avoid them). As my final breakfast will be on this same train heading into Portland tomorrow, I suspect I'll see something like the continental option then.
After saying grace before his meal, I hear a young hunter getting to know his taablemate: "So I'll name animals, and you tell me if you've killed them."
Our waiter, a young man named Yonis, was polite and attentive, offering refills of drinks and promptly removing dishes. The car was filling up, so I did not linger to chat -- not that I would opt to do that anyway. I hear LSA-D Dave making announcements for the reservations he started taking for breakfast times for other sleeper-car passengers when the room filled.
As I watched the grass-filled ponds pass by, I had to remind myself not to look for alligators. That's one of the fun things to do when driving through Soutth Florida, espically the aptly named Alligator Alley from Naples across thee Everglades to the metro sprawl I think of as Miami, but is really many municipalities separated by stoplights. In my part of north Central Florida, the gators tend to live in the rivers and lakes, not the ditches alongside the interstates.
... 8:07 a.m., a woman's voice just announced the food service is open on the lower level of the lounge car, "no line, no waiting list; immediate service available" until 11 p.m. ...
I see a few semi tractor-trailers driving along a distant highway parallel to the tracks, and the backsides of cow pastures (and cows) in fields separated by a fence and a ditch from the rails. The hills roll more now, so I can catch glimpses of homes and more fields in the distance, not just a ridge of grasslands. ... Alhough now I squint more at the fenceposts, I'm not sure there's any wire strung on them for some non-cattle fields.
It's fun to guess how long a home has stood by the height of the trees surrounding it. Lines of fir trees seem to be the preferred wind/sun breaks.
... 8:13 a.m., the nameless conductor announced our pending arrival in Rugby, North Dakota, "the geographical center of the United States." Neat! I wish my neighbor had his curtains open, so I could peek out the northern side of the train.
Just as I sat down to breakfast, we passed a loop of track with several frieght cars -- grain cars, my dining companions said -- near a large silo. Makes sense. Some of the silos passing by my window now are so shiny they look new, although perhaps they're well maintined. The fields are more dirt than green. I'd guess it's a cool morning out there. Though my in-room thermostst iss cranked to "warmer," I can't seem to stop the cool air from blowing on me fron the ceiling vent -- if I shift the slide the other way, I get a greater volume of cool air. So, I'll snuggle up to the warm vents under the exterior window, and put on a second overshirt if I get too cold. (Mom told me to bring a jacket, but I could not conceive of needing it as I packed in 96-degree steam back home.)
8:24 a.m., a graveyard brings color to the landscape, with bright (artificial?) flowers at most every stone. A trailer park gives way to single-family site-built hhomes, or at least a better class of modular homes, before the brickwork of what must be downtown Rugby. The brick pavers of the sidewalk along the station show their age -- some bricks are weathered down to fractured striations, others still sport "MINNESOTA CERAMIC" on them.
Tee hee! Large red plastic lettters on one building past a livery store spell out "RUGBY SAYS HI" to train passengers -- city-sanctioned graffiti? I've seen none of the spray-pinted sort here. Another graveyard leaving town has more trees, fewer flowers, then we're back to fields and clumps of trees.
When I peeked out the too-sunny back window, I saw heads in the observation leevel of the private car. Thought about waving at them, but they're too far away, past the single-level span of that car that might hold its dining and crew quarters.
Back to watching my small screen. Though I have ebooks and hidden-object games I can play offline, I suspect I might get a bit motion sick if I attempted to do such detailed eye-work on the jostling train.
8:38 a.m., a man's voice gave a public service announcement with ettiquette reminders: this is a nonsmoking train; drink responsibly; and for those who might be treating this as though they're in a nightclub, please remember this is a family train, and to keep language at a G-rated, not PG, level. (I suppose they had complaints in a coach car.)
...Aha! Figured out my airflow problem: with the door and door curtain open, I was getting the blow from the vent in the corridor. Now closed, the room seems cozier.
9:08 a.m., another PA announcement from a woman's voice saying Amtrak is a family train, and no swearing is permitted. She ended with, "This is your last warning," so I think whatever group of adults is committing the offense could gget booted off the train if they persist.
9:45 a.m. Minot, North Dakota, will be the train's first service stop, adding fuel and supplies, removing trash. The conductor said it will be a 20-minute stop, for those wishing to go smoke or stretch their legs.
... and water does not flow in the toilet's sink, or from the icewater spout outside it to rinse off the soap on my hands during the Minot stop. Sigh. Several passengers got out to pick their way over the gravel and turn around to look at the outside of the train. Someone passing in the hall expressed curiosity about the private car in back.
An LED billboard on a nearby furniture shop states the temperature is 60 degrees F. Different-colored patches of paint on the supports of a highway overpass indicate places where graffiti was -- this must be a larger town. Why ddo some taggers use such bloated, elaborate lettering? San-serif fonts are much more readable.
As we pulled out, the conductor said we'll travel at 79 mph, giving tips to widen one's stance if having trouble walking. He also said we're an hour behind schedule, hoping to be caught up by the time we hit Shelby, Montana. Dining car LSA-D then said lunch will begin at 11:30 a.m. Mountain time, and to wait for the annnouncement before heading to the dining car.
The hills west of Minot have many wrinkles, making them more visually interesting. A crew member down the hall told someone 100 extra people got on in Minot, because school just got out for the summer. I did not see anyone from this ffar back on the train, maybe 300 yards out from the station -- but i'm a bad judge of distances. One new set of sleeper passengers seem to have joined my car.
11:27 a.m. Central time, as I spotted small oil pumps on distant hills, TA-SC Jesse stopped by to check in with each passenger. I asked about the police incident last night, and he said a man got irate with a girl who claimed to be 18 "to hang out with the big kids." The girl is now on house arrest in her seat, he said. There's doubtless more to the story than I'll ever learn third-hand.
Jesse said the same thing woulld have happened with the swearing adults, if they had continued, as the conductors on the train now don't tolerate such things. Good to know.
Four mules grazing in one pasture, another field of dead cars past a ditch.
11:38 a.m., my first sighting of a corral of small modular homes set in narrow rows on dirt. At least trailer parks in my home state have personality. These look too new to have tenants. We must be near the oil patch. I could not tell it from the otherwise rolling fields of cropland.
Ah, appraently we've crossed into Mountain time, as the dining car just reminded everyone the current time is 10:44 a.m., with lunch open at 11:30. My tech has yet to switch zones.
COACHED ON COACH
12:55 p.m. Mountian time
As I returned from a surprise lunch, I chatted with the train attendant - coach who's in charge of the car directly ahead of my sleeper. (The surprise was, after hearing the steward annound the room was full and for people to come make reservations for later seating, myself and another single rider from my car got to squeeze in at not-full tables to eat right then. I'd gone up without my usual gear, so I could not include a train pin with my tip -- I'll have to catch my lunch server at dinner.)
The coach attendant, whose name I did not yet get (I later learned itt was Debby, however she might spell it), had been one of the ones to compliment me on my hair last niight. She noticed I had it bunned today, and we talked about hairstyles for a while as she cleaned hair and other bits of trash from her carpet sweeper at the back of the car.
She spoke about keeping an eye on the passengers in her area, and how she could tell some were smokers by how restless they'd get. I liked her, and I'll make sure to behave during my short leg of travel in coach on Friday.
She's the one tasked with monitoring the girl involved in the police incident laast night. I asked, so she told me she's worked for Amtrak for more than eight years now. Impressive.
A conductor makes periodic announcements as we pull into and out of stations, about how the summer rush has begun and the cars are full, so single riders might be asked to move so families may sit together. From his tone of voice, this is standard practice for coach, where your ticket guarantees you a seat, bbut not a specific location.
THINKING OF YOU, SAM NEILL
2 p.m. Mountin time, still Thursday, June 4 -- public-service mural on the side of a brick building in Glasgow, Montana: "Meth is a dead end."
I've not been in Montana before. The one bit of the film adaptation "The Hunt for Red October" of Tom Clancy's novel I remember is Sam Neill's Russian character, stating how he'd hoped to live in Montana. The actor's wistful look as he died (hope I'm not spoiling the movie for anyone) made me think well of the state.
2:41 p.m., the conductor just came on the PA to again ask everyone to refrain from cussing and swearing. He said he had two passengers removed for swearing in Glasgow who are now jailed there. Wow.
This stretch of tracks is in a cellular dead zone. I had hoped to check email and the AU forum while traveling, but I must wait until we reach more populated areas.
4:57 p.m. pulling out of a fuel/stretch/smoke stop in Havre, the dining car announced seating would be delayed 5-ish minutes each time. I booked for 7:15, so I will see how it goes.
HERD OF ELK? OF COURSE I'VE HEARD OF ELK
9:08 p.m. Mountain time
A few minutes after cresting Marias Pass through thr Rocky Mountains, wondering what technician had to lay the fiber-optic cable whose markers I see along the tracks, I spot 10 to a dozen large deer, or perhaps elk: no antlers, white backsides, but their heads looked more like horses -- mule deer, maybe?
My dinner time was called on time, and I sat with a mom and her daughters from the coach car where the two women had been removed and arrested due to drunkenness and foul language.
Though the sun shines on the tops of the mountains, it still feels closer to 11 p.m. Eastern time, and my bedtime. I'd hoped train travel might lessen jet lag, but the trip has not fully removed the adjustment period for me.
I've pressed the attendant call button to get the bed set up. I can't seem to get the table back in its slot, either -- I wrestled with it last night successfully, but no luck today.
PORTLAND BOUND
7:34 a.m. Pacific time Friday, June 5, 2015
I thought I was doing well, sleeping in until 6:30 before showering and dressing for the day -- until someone else came back from looking for breakfast in the lounge car to say it did not open until 6:30, about 5 minutes from then. I realized my fitness/activity-tracker watch syncs up to my iPad only when it has an Internet connection. Since I'd not booted up the myfi recently, the watch was still on Mountain time.
I got to talk briefly with TA-SC Jesse. He's been with Amtrak 22 years, the past 15 on the Empire Builder run. I asked, and he said he gets maybe 4 hours of sleep per night while on duty. He'll stay overnight in Potland -- not out partying the way some others choose to do, he said -- then start his shift again with the afternoon run of the EB back toward Chicago. (When later I told him why I was typing so much on my keyboard, he said he'd better not see anything about him in print -- so if you read this, please don't print it out.)
The lounge attendant -- I don't know the proper term for her job, but would guess train attendant - lounge? -- who was the only person using the PA system to say her name (Catherine? Caroline? I've forgotten), also said she'd had about 4 hours of sleep as she almost put my entire plastic box of breakfasst criossant, blackberry cobbler and fruit cubes into the microwave rather than just the sandwich. Technically, the croissant still had meat cooties when I asked her to remove the ham, but I was hungry enough to scarf down the bread and melted cheese. A 4-ounce tub of raspberry yogurt completed the standard meal given to sleeper-car passengers. You can find the full lounge menu elsewhere -- the box of doughnut holes seemed popular with the coach riders in line for food.
I ate at a table upstairs to watch the view on both sides, squinting as the rising sun hit me from the eastern side of the car. Someone else there said the train might be running 45 minutes late so far. I think we stopped at Pasco, Washington, station as I was in the lounge, but I did not see the sign, just a nice-looking bus station.
If our next stop is Wishram, Washington, I'll be able to compare our arrival time there with the route timetable.
I fear I might have left my favorite hair stick way back on the Silver Meteor, as I've not fund it yet rummaging through purse or toiletry case. Once I reach my ddestination, I can unpack everything for a proper search. Similarly, I know I had nail clippers back at the Chicago Metropolitan lounge, but can't find them now. Hangnails drive me nuts.
...7:56 a.m., Jesse told another passenger we're running 1.5 hours late. A conductor said over the PA shortly after that we should make Portland by 11:10 a.m. ...
We lost the private car overmight in Spokane, as Jesse said it was headed to Seattle. I looked it up: sierrahotel.com tells all about the business -- it's self-contained with four bedrooms, allowing up to eight guests per overnight trip, or a maximum of 16 guests for shorter events. Cost estimate is $4,000 to $6,000 per night (I assume per person), so my guess it was the large Aussie/Kiwi tour group from Chicago was incorrect. The site offers a virtual tour of the car, so I could get a peek inside that way if I'm ever curious.
I woke for a few bumps and clangs as our set of cars decouppled from those headed to Seattle, and noticed about 4:40 a.m. that the power was out when I could not flush the toilet -- the sink water ran, an overhead light shone dimly and the warning light was not on to indicate the room was out of service, but I guess of the power was out, the warning light would not come on. A few minutes later, the air started blowing again through the vents, so I guess we reconnected to whatever power supply runs the car. Our sleeper is now the end of the train, with an unobscured view out the back door/window. Two coach cars, then the lounge/observatory car just before the shorter baggage car and engine(s?)
We're passing along a narrow lake or wide river (Columbia?), with wind turbines dotting various distant hills as we approach Wishram.
From reading other trip reports, I know I should be able to avail myself of the sleeper-car lounge in Portland even though the final leg of my journey is in coach this afternoon. Although I do quite like the black bean and corn veggie burgers, I'm kind of craving pizza. Or a veggie sub. Something without pasta.
According to my fitness tracker, I have not slept since Sunday night. Whatever sensors it uses to track motion must get confused by the rattling of the train car.
8:50 a.m., slowig down as we pass farms with rows of grapes and some sort of fruit trees -- apple?, something thst I do not see in Florida, at any rate -- in the flat lad between the ridge with the railroad tracks and the curving river. Saw a coupld of tents pitched on one spit of land by the river, the car parked up near the gravel track leading to a paved road for the farms and homes. Also saw long lines of freight cars moving along tracks on the other side of the river several minutes ago.
TUNNELS AND TERRAFORMING
9:34 a.m., still traveling along what must be the Columbia River, we're passing through series of tunnels carved into the mountians.
That is so cool!
OK, so there's nothing to see when inside a tunnell -- unlike other madmade caverns, there are no guide lights every few feet, no skylights for rail tunnels. They are short enough I'd be able to see daylight at one end or another if I somehow set foot in them outisde of the train. I expect this section of track is remote enough that few thrillseekers could reach them to try to walk inside.
But I enjoy imagining there might be a side door leading to an otherwise inaccessible valley or secret castle -- If I look at just the right time through the darkened windows, I might spot it.
CLOSE CONNIPTIONS FOR THE WILDLIFE-IMPAIRED
I also find myself peering into the waters when the tracks run close, hoping to spot a turtle. I see bouys in the river marking -- what? crab traps in fresh waterr? -- and longer lines indicating fish nets. Many species of avians, but I wwant to see a turtle. Don't evcen know if the waters are too cold to support them.
If I saw an otter or beaver (OK, I admit I'm geographically challenged, this might not be the place for beavers), I'd be happy.
A moose? I'd go into conniptions of joy.
Yeah, I'm a dork. Taking a grand adventure across the country using a form of ttransport more people should try, and I'm looking for aquatic reptiles.
... Pulled in to Wishram station at 9:43 a.m. ...
Seeing the highways, rail lines, farms and structures along the river valley makes me wonder what it looked like before we modern humans terraformed the area. There likely were no flat spots outside of floodplains, no easy passages through the mountains other than this wide river. A National Park Service volunteer spoke over the PA as we approached Marias Pass through the Rockies last night, to explain the obelisk monument to one president and the statue dedicated to another engineer who discovered the pass for the rail lines. Once we passed the summit, I noticed how the streams all ran in the other direction --- always downhill, as physics demand, now heading west down the slopes rather than east.
As the train moved through with rocky fill on one side building up the tracks from the river and woodland or lumpy rock walls on the other, I better understand why the explorers Lewis and Clark used canoes for much of their travels. Obvious once I remember there were no roads or highways, things I take for granted.
9:51 a.m. oooooh! My first clear view of Mount Hood, I think, poking at the clouds to the south. Then it's gone behind closer, lesser peaks (and another tunnel).
10:43 a.m. wow, there are some niiiice houses on this side of the river. Why would anyone go to the expense of an outdoor pool, though? Must be heated.
Even the elevated second level of the sleeper car is not tall enugh to peek over the privacy walls of Steamboat Landing subdsivision -- the roofs look swanky, if close together.. I'm spotting some well-tended lawns through the trees, as well as warning signs stating the premises are monitored via cameras. The railward side of most structures are nothing special. All the picture windows must face the water. Their loss -- I would've waved.
10:58 a.m., I see people walking and roller-blading along a riverside park as we near whatever the next station might be ... Vancouver, they announce. Then a large industrial complex of tall scaffolds and silos near warehouses.
The roometes have slowly emptied as othhers reach their destinations, so I can scoot down the corridor to peer out north-side windows, if we're still mostly traveling west. We've done so many curves around the mountins to get here, we could be going south at this point. (Should've downloaded that tracker app.)
11:39 a.m., inside Portland station
I must have misread the informaiton about there being a special waiting area for sleeper-car passengers in Portland. Neon signs point out bag claim, newsstand, waiting area, but nothing similar to Club Acela or the Metropolitan lounge. I guess I won't walk around Portland after all, or eat lunch other than the meal bars I packed. The acoustics in the wide, marbled hall mangle the announcements over the PA. I'll pay more attention in two hours when my departure time nears.
I found a seat on a bend outside the women's restroom. At least I can watch other travelers. Now to see if there's wifi ... nope, nothing unsecured. I'd have to go up to the ticket counter to ask, as nno one staffed the informaiton desk I passed. then I'd have to talk to people.
Time to plug in earbuds and ... wait. Do coach passengers get the same luggage allowance as sleepers? Sigh. Guess I've got to check in at the ticket counter anyhow.
11:59 a.m., so glad I did that! I must be blind, there was a sign for the Metropolitan lounge, and a door tucked into the wall as the entryway leads to the trains. I nice man at the main ticket counter check my tickets and said I may wait there, since i was on a sleeper, and the attendand inside the lounge ggave me my coach boarding pass: a white slip of paper with EUG 1 on it.
Having stashed my bags (no change in the limit, hooray), I can walk about outside the station, if I dare. I'm going to enjoy my complimentary beverage, log in using the wifi password placed at the various groupings of chairs in the lunge, and then decide.
