The weather in Boston was truly unpleasant. We’d been watching the snow turn to sleet on and off, and freezing rain was expected in the afternoon. By mid-morning, my sister and I had agreed that it made sense to take an MBTA train to South Station instead of risking a traffic incident on the way there.
I’d already called Amtrak to confirm the train was actually going to depart. All the evidence indicated that it would, except for that little red “canceled” notification on my reservation when I logged in for my pre-trip Covid check. So I called, and requested a callback. In ten minutes, the phone rang and a pleasant agent assured me it was only due to a change in coding.
Reassured, but miffed at the technical incompetence that can’t distinguish between a change in coding and a reason for a heart attack, I finished packing and loaded the car. My BIL dropped Sis and me at Rte 128 station, where we caught a train in to town (MBTA, because Amtrak trains are “discharge only” at RTE). I dropped my big bag with the redcap at the Metropolitan Lounge, and we went in to relax end enjoy some coffee till the train left. As soon as the track was assigned, the redcap came to get us. Sis and I walked behind his cart, and said goodby trainside.
It had snowed, and then gotten above freezing and rained an inch before turning back to “wintry mix.” Massachusetts was a slushy, soggy mess. The rivers were high and full of ice jams. As we climbed into the Berkshires, trees were bent over the tracks under the weight of ice. We hit a few, but none were big enough to do more than slap the side of the train with crystal-encased branches.
It took longer than usual to put the sections together at Albany, and we left a little late. For a change, I did not get off the train at all. I made it this far into my trip without getting a breakthrough case of Covid, and I have a strong incentive to get home safe to Hubby. I just stayed in my room.
We made up the time overnight, and we’re running right on time till just outside Chicago we started running into frozen switches. By the time we got to the station, we were two hours late. Our Boston sleeper car attendant, Walt (“like Disney”), kept us informed, and carried my bag through the Business Class car when our door was froze s shut and would not open.
The door at the back of Business Class *would* open, it the trap was frozen and would not lock into place, so everyone stood there while Walt looked for a sledgehammer. Just about the time he got back with it, someone came from outside the car and pushed it down forcefully, so we could all exit.
I stowed my luggage in the Metropolitan Lounge, and walked four blocks up Clinton Street to the French Market at Ogilvie transit center. I was happy to see Saigon Sisters still there, and got a brown rice bowl with curried chicken from them. I carried my bag back to Union station and sat on a bench in the Great Hall to eat it.
Soon after I checked back in to the Metropolitan Lounge and retrieved my bags, they announced that the CZ would be delayed an hour. I got myself a cup of tea, and settled down to use the wi-fi. About fifteen minutes later, they called us to board, said it was “board and go.” I shoved the tea into my tote, and trundled on out to the train, where we waited another hour. Seems the engineer had an emergency on the way to the station. SMH.
Finally got out of CHI about an hour and a half late. I don’t really mind, as I’m due to detrain at WNN at 5:40am, and I’d love for it to be just a little later, so it would be light outside. I’m in car 532 room #6, my favorite location in the center of the hallway, not over the trucks and not too close to the banging restroom door.
I woke up about 4am and looked at the transit docs map on my phone to see we were still running a little over an hour late. I also discovered that the toilets in my car were not functioning properly. It’s an old car that has not been refurbished in quite a hole. The floors were dirty looking even when I first boarded in Chicago. It’s hard to find a clean enough spot on my window to take a photo.
On the bright side, I had a very restful sleep as we rolled across the prairies. I could feel the pressure change as my ears popped occasionally with the increasing elevation. The dining car crew is great. I had the salad, salmon, chocolate torte and red wine for dinner last night, and it was all delicious. For breakfast, I had the Continental with oatmeal and a side of the chicken sausages.
I went downstairs in the 531 car to use the restroom on my way to breakfast. It was very dirty, and the trash was full because of the heavy use. At least my car is not as hot as that one.
Well. Denver was interesting. Got off the train and walked into the station. Lovely morning for a platform stroll. I followed the signs to “restrooms” and a guard at the entrance to the hallway stopped me, and informed me that restrooms are for the “customers of the hotel.” I said OK then, where are the *Amtrak* restrooms, and he said oh, Amtrak, then you are a customer of the *building*. Surprised he didn’t ask to see my ticket. I was allowed down the corridor to the ladies room.
On my return to my room, I found there was someone sitting in my roomette. He was a sweet old guy - 87 years old, he said. His son was downstairs trying to get everything sorted out. They’d paid for the handicap room, but their tickets certainly said they were assigned to MY roomette, and though the handicap room was available, it didn’t have a working toilet either. I told Robert I was willing to move to the transform myself, but saw that it would be best for all if they just went up there where the toilets worked. He sorted that out with the conductor, and moved their stuff, while I walked Ron Sr. to his new room. He used a cane or wheelchair, but he knew how to walk through a train car. When I complimented him, he proudly declared he’d been a *ship’s* engineer for many years.
I was disturbed that someone had entered and sat in my room during a pandemic, but Ron Sr. had remained masked, and he is more at-risk by far than I am, so I assume he’s been careful. I don’t blame them - I blame Amtrak’s incompetent IT department. I told Ron Jr. to call Amtrak after the trip and request a refund. Robert told ME to also call, and request a voucher because of the toilets. Oh, I said, I’m planning to. Yep. And I guess it was too cold to run the washer over the train, or we didn’t dwell long enough. The windows are still dirty.
They announced we’d be on our way out of Denver less than a half hour late, but then delayed that again for freight traffic in the yard. It was a gorgeous day, and I took plenty of photos as we climbed the Rocky Mtn. front. We passed a photographer stationed between two of the tunnels to catch a photo of the train. I can’t see where the road is, but on a day like today it’s worth a hike. Footprints in the snow tell me where the favorite spots are.
I photographed a dam and reservoir that I did not remember seeing the last time I passed this way. There were people out on the ice, probably fishing. As we climbed yet higher we passed through some cloudy areas where it snowed lightly. There was some fresh snow at Fraser-Winter Park, but it has obviously been a sparse year for the white stuff. Still running about 50 minutes late.
Lunch was perfectly timed to be seated just before the train entered Gore Canyon. The sleepers are pretty full, and demand was high, so I indicated I wanted a table on the left, but I was willing to share. A young Amish couple on their wedding trip sat across from me. They let me take a photo of them gazing at the view, and gave me a friend’s email to send it to later. We saw an eagle, deer, and elk. The River was icy and green. The sky had turned mostly blue again. They will have wonderful memories of their “trip of a lifetime.”
I had the Cesar salad with chicken and the chocolate torte for lunch. Some people might think it’s boring to have the same dessert every time. I think there’s no such thing as too much chocolate, so I am going to choose the chocolate dessert every time it’s offered to me. I got off the train at Glenwood Springs to get some fresh air and take a selfie with the train.
Still bright and sunny at Grand Junction. I thanked the departing conductor for his cheerful travelogue. Leaving town, a family on an apartment patio all waved to the train. I pushed the call button when I left for dinner, and Robert made up my bed before I got back, as he had every time (Mr. Reliable). I sat on the bed and read for little while before crawling under the covers. I didn’t wake up to any prolonged stops in the night, only noticing at Elko that we were a mere 20 minutes late. My alarm went off at 5am, and I got up to make tea and eat some granola before we arrived in Winnemucca. The Conductor rapped gently on my door to give me 15 minute notice for the station.
There aren’t any taxis in Winnemucca, so I was happy to see the crisp, dry weather and clear sidewalks. I walked to where my car was parked, trundling my roller bag and appreciating the dawn light beginning to touch the nearby mountains. Before long, I was on my way north on good road, arriving home soon after noon.
I’d already called Amtrak to confirm the train was actually going to depart. All the evidence indicated that it would, except for that little red “canceled” notification on my reservation when I logged in for my pre-trip Covid check. So I called, and requested a callback. In ten minutes, the phone rang and a pleasant agent assured me it was only due to a change in coding.
Reassured, but miffed at the technical incompetence that can’t distinguish between a change in coding and a reason for a heart attack, I finished packing and loaded the car. My BIL dropped Sis and me at Rte 128 station, where we caught a train in to town (MBTA, because Amtrak trains are “discharge only” at RTE). I dropped my big bag with the redcap at the Metropolitan Lounge, and we went in to relax end enjoy some coffee till the train left. As soon as the track was assigned, the redcap came to get us. Sis and I walked behind his cart, and said goodby trainside.
It had snowed, and then gotten above freezing and rained an inch before turning back to “wintry mix.” Massachusetts was a slushy, soggy mess. The rivers were high and full of ice jams. As we climbed into the Berkshires, trees were bent over the tracks under the weight of ice. We hit a few, but none were big enough to do more than slap the side of the train with crystal-encased branches.
It took longer than usual to put the sections together at Albany, and we left a little late. For a change, I did not get off the train at all. I made it this far into my trip without getting a breakthrough case of Covid, and I have a strong incentive to get home safe to Hubby. I just stayed in my room.
We made up the time overnight, and we’re running right on time till just outside Chicago we started running into frozen switches. By the time we got to the station, we were two hours late. Our Boston sleeper car attendant, Walt (“like Disney”), kept us informed, and carried my bag through the Business Class car when our door was froze s shut and would not open.
The door at the back of Business Class *would* open, it the trap was frozen and would not lock into place, so everyone stood there while Walt looked for a sledgehammer. Just about the time he got back with it, someone came from outside the car and pushed it down forcefully, so we could all exit.
I stowed my luggage in the Metropolitan Lounge, and walked four blocks up Clinton Street to the French Market at Ogilvie transit center. I was happy to see Saigon Sisters still there, and got a brown rice bowl with curried chicken from them. I carried my bag back to Union station and sat on a bench in the Great Hall to eat it.
Soon after I checked back in to the Metropolitan Lounge and retrieved my bags, they announced that the CZ would be delayed an hour. I got myself a cup of tea, and settled down to use the wi-fi. About fifteen minutes later, they called us to board, said it was “board and go.” I shoved the tea into my tote, and trundled on out to the train, where we waited another hour. Seems the engineer had an emergency on the way to the station. SMH.
Finally got out of CHI about an hour and a half late. I don’t really mind, as I’m due to detrain at WNN at 5:40am, and I’d love for it to be just a little later, so it would be light outside. I’m in car 532 room #6, my favorite location in the center of the hallway, not over the trucks and not too close to the banging restroom door.
I woke up about 4am and looked at the transit docs map on my phone to see we were still running a little over an hour late. I also discovered that the toilets in my car were not functioning properly. It’s an old car that has not been refurbished in quite a hole. The floors were dirty looking even when I first boarded in Chicago. It’s hard to find a clean enough spot on my window to take a photo.
On the bright side, I had a very restful sleep as we rolled across the prairies. I could feel the pressure change as my ears popped occasionally with the increasing elevation. The dining car crew is great. I had the salad, salmon, chocolate torte and red wine for dinner last night, and it was all delicious. For breakfast, I had the Continental with oatmeal and a side of the chicken sausages.
I went downstairs in the 531 car to use the restroom on my way to breakfast. It was very dirty, and the trash was full because of the heavy use. At least my car is not as hot as that one.
Well. Denver was interesting. Got off the train and walked into the station. Lovely morning for a platform stroll. I followed the signs to “restrooms” and a guard at the entrance to the hallway stopped me, and informed me that restrooms are for the “customers of the hotel.” I said OK then, where are the *Amtrak* restrooms, and he said oh, Amtrak, then you are a customer of the *building*. Surprised he didn’t ask to see my ticket. I was allowed down the corridor to the ladies room.
On my return to my room, I found there was someone sitting in my roomette. He was a sweet old guy - 87 years old, he said. His son was downstairs trying to get everything sorted out. They’d paid for the handicap room, but their tickets certainly said they were assigned to MY roomette, and though the handicap room was available, it didn’t have a working toilet either. I told Robert I was willing to move to the transform myself, but saw that it would be best for all if they just went up there where the toilets worked. He sorted that out with the conductor, and moved their stuff, while I walked Ron Sr. to his new room. He used a cane or wheelchair, but he knew how to walk through a train car. When I complimented him, he proudly declared he’d been a *ship’s* engineer for many years.
I was disturbed that someone had entered and sat in my room during a pandemic, but Ron Sr. had remained masked, and he is more at-risk by far than I am, so I assume he’s been careful. I don’t blame them - I blame Amtrak’s incompetent IT department. I told Ron Jr. to call Amtrak after the trip and request a refund. Robert told ME to also call, and request a voucher because of the toilets. Oh, I said, I’m planning to. Yep. And I guess it was too cold to run the washer over the train, or we didn’t dwell long enough. The windows are still dirty.
They announced we’d be on our way out of Denver less than a half hour late, but then delayed that again for freight traffic in the yard. It was a gorgeous day, and I took plenty of photos as we climbed the Rocky Mtn. front. We passed a photographer stationed between two of the tunnels to catch a photo of the train. I can’t see where the road is, but on a day like today it’s worth a hike. Footprints in the snow tell me where the favorite spots are.
I photographed a dam and reservoir that I did not remember seeing the last time I passed this way. There were people out on the ice, probably fishing. As we climbed yet higher we passed through some cloudy areas where it snowed lightly. There was some fresh snow at Fraser-Winter Park, but it has obviously been a sparse year for the white stuff. Still running about 50 minutes late.
Lunch was perfectly timed to be seated just before the train entered Gore Canyon. The sleepers are pretty full, and demand was high, so I indicated I wanted a table on the left, but I was willing to share. A young Amish couple on their wedding trip sat across from me. They let me take a photo of them gazing at the view, and gave me a friend’s email to send it to later. We saw an eagle, deer, and elk. The River was icy and green. The sky had turned mostly blue again. They will have wonderful memories of their “trip of a lifetime.”
I had the Cesar salad with chicken and the chocolate torte for lunch. Some people might think it’s boring to have the same dessert every time. I think there’s no such thing as too much chocolate, so I am going to choose the chocolate dessert every time it’s offered to me. I got off the train at Glenwood Springs to get some fresh air and take a selfie with the train.
Still bright and sunny at Grand Junction. I thanked the departing conductor for his cheerful travelogue. Leaving town, a family on an apartment patio all waved to the train. I pushed the call button when I left for dinner, and Robert made up my bed before I got back, as he had every time (Mr. Reliable). I sat on the bed and read for little while before crawling under the covers. I didn’t wake up to any prolonged stops in the night, only noticing at Elko that we were a mere 20 minutes late. My alarm went off at 5am, and I got up to make tea and eat some granola before we arrived in Winnemucca. The Conductor rapped gently on my door to give me 15 minute notice for the station.
There aren’t any taxis in Winnemucca, so I was happy to see the crisp, dry weather and clear sidewalks. I walked to where my car was parked, trundling my roller bag and appreciating the dawn light beginning to touch the nearby mountains. Before long, I was on my way north on good road, arriving home soon after noon.
