kentuckian1977
Service Attendant
I left Ashland, Kentucky on Sunday night, March 10 in a roomette on the Cardinal. I had been greeted in a very friendly way as I got on the train by SCA Delissa (who I remembered being my SCA on my return trip from Chicago back in December 2011) and the conductor. (And had caused a good laugh when I somehow manged to momentarily lose a shoe coming up the steps onto the train! "One you were wearing?" As Delissa quickly asked when I said, "Oh, I lost a shoe!" and quickly retrieved it, LOL!) Once in my roomette, I quickly changed into my PJs and enjoyed lying in bed and watching the lights along the Ohio River to somewhere past Maysville, then slept. I woke very briefly while we were stopped in Cincinnati, then slept well right on through Indy and until somewhere around Lafayette. I dressed and headed to breakfast in the Card's cafe/dinette. I found the omelet and potatoes good, and enjoyed talking to a very polite college girl from Yorkshire, England who had just gotten on in Lafayette and was heading for a spring break week in Chicago. The Card had been over an hour and a half late into Ashland, but it got into Chicago slightly early, due in large part to the hour of schedule padding at Indy.
Once in Chicago, I dropped my bag in the Metropolitan Lounge and walked to State Street and back, as the weather wasn't too bad at all for Chicago in March (upper 40s). Did some window shopping and had lunch at the deli in Macy's basement, then headed back to the station. The Southwest Chief left right on time, and I had an upper level roomette in the 31 car, with car attendant self-described "Crazy Tom." He proved to make the next 40-some hours very enjoyable, with a dry humor that reminded me a bit of Johnny Carson and a very laid back, and yet no-nonsense, approach to "running" his sleeping car. My neighbors across the hall all the way to L.A. would be an older couple from Sweden, and they were quite interesting as well. I had never traveled west of a line from Chicago-Memphis-New Orleans via Amtrak nor any other means before, so now I was getting to the part of the trip about which I was most excited.
That first afternoon we ran across the plains of Illinois which still showed some melting signs of the blizzard that had gone through a week or so before. I got a picture of the Burlington steam locomotive at Galesburg and got off the train to stretch my legs briefly in Ft. Madison. I had dinner (the steak was great!) with a friendly couple probably in their 50s or so from Jackson, MI - I forget their names, as I'm horrible with names, but the husband was a railfan and he said he gets on here sometimes - so hi again if you're reading this! - we got to talking and figured out that a friend of theirs has a daughter who had gone to Berea College in Berea, KY, which is the same town where I work, and is about 25 miles from where I live, and about 130 miles from where I had boarded the train in Ashland. It really is a small world when you talk to people in an Amtrak diner, and that is always one of my favorite things about an Amtrak trip. I was asleep right after we pulled out of Kansas City, which I thought looked a bit like Louisville, based on what I could see from the train. I slept good this first night on the Chief, waking briefly only once while we were stopped in Newton, Kansas.
I woke up very early on Tuesday the 12th, just as we were leaving Dodge City, Kansas. This made me smile in remembrance of my late stepfather, who I think had watched every rerun of "Gunsmoke" at least three times. I never did get back to sleep after that, and was in the diner for breakfast shortly after it opened, as it was getting light outside and we were somewhere around or west of Garden City, I forget which. By now I was thinking about the fact that we were traversing the section of the Chief's route that may no longer be its route after 2016, but more about that later. Breakfast (eggs and bacon, again just fine) was with a nice couple probably in their 70s from Victorville, CA, home of, as they noted, the late Roy and Dale. They assured me I was going to love California, and the wife was the only person I talked to on the whole trip who had ridden the Santa Fe Super Chief years ago. Another small world moment when we figured out that they had visited the National Quilt Museum in Paducah, KY and loved it, since the lady who used to be the director of that museum is now the director of the Kentucky Artisan Center at Berea, where I currently work.
Here's a good place to note the following, too: Correct me if I'm wrong, but it is the LSA who takes your dinner reservations and is pretty much the dining car steward, among their other duties? If I have that correct, then the person in said position for this westbound trip was Janine (spelling?) and she was very friendly and efficient as was the rest of the staff.
I got off the train again briefly in La Junta, and at this point we were running pretty much on time. Between there and Trinidad, as we got into the foothills, we also got into increasingly more snow on the ground, which was beautiful. All I can say about Raton Pass is that it was as gorgeous as I'd expected, especially with snow on. The kid in me of course loved the tunnel at the top.
The railfan in me was processing the notion that Newton - La Junta may soon go freight only. Would Trinidad - Albuquerque actually end up totally abandoned within just a few years??? That thought rang through my mind through all the beautiful scenery on the stretch that is exotic to a Kentuckian who had not been west before - as we crossed the pass, headed down the other side, and through the sagebrush-dotted, desert-ish scenery that heretofore I'd only seen on Westerns and Roadrunner cartoons. Who knows, but I would wager to guess that if the Chief leaves the pass and BNSF files for abandonment between Trinidad (I say Trinidad rather than La Junta, because I remember seeing the coal operation just west of there that appears to still use rail service) and Albuquerque - or wherever between there is currently passenger only - then I would hope that at least the stretch from, say, Trinidad to Las Vegas or Lamy gets saved for some sort of tourist train. Who knows, at any rate I'm glad I got to ride the route now, since it could end up nothing more than a trail or a memory within just a few years.
As we got closer to Albuquerque, and the snow-capped mountains which I was told were ski slopes near Santa Fe, came into view off to the north of the train, I was having lunch with again the couple from Jackson, MI, and this time we were joined by a man who was traveling from Kansas City to Albuquerque. He explained that he was heading there to visit property he owned to the north of the city, to which he plans to retire, and is currently figuring out what to do about building on. He also told us the story of the Civil War and Glorietta Pass, which was repeated a bit later when I was back in the sleeper by "Crazy Tom" over the intercom. I'm a history buff, and a mild Civil War buff, but amazingly I was previously unaware of this interesting footnote of the farthest battle west of the War Between the States.
Albuquerque was as pretty as I'd always heard from people who have either driven to and/or through it, or flown there, but I'm the first person I know who arrived by train. We were still close to on time in spite of a couple of slow orders for track work east of the city, so I had plenty of time to check out the wares on the station platform and pick up a pair of silver and turqouise earrings for my mother. I'm no expert at all, but it seemed to me that the stuff being sold ranged from authentic Navajo, to authentic white area artisan, to authentic Chinese-made flea market crap; not necessarily a bad thing, at least that way there is something in every price range for anyone from the train who wanted to pick up a "I was there" souvenir. I marveled at how there had been all that snow back up on Raton Pass, but down in Albuquerque it was sunny and 65!
Dinner that night, as we rolled through some real Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote - type orange rock scenery and into the sunset along Rt. 66 was again good. I actually opted once again for the steak and potato - hey if it ain't broke and is tasty don't change it, lol! My dinner companions seemed to be the most - shall we say sophisticated - of the trip, which was interesting and a little amusing to a decidedly down to earth, and even lower-class (at least compared to the three of them!) Kentuckian. One of them was younger than me (I'm 35) and was returning from a six-month stay in New York City working on a project as a documentary producer. One was either a veterinarian or a dermotoloigst, I'm not sure which, I must have misunderstood because I first though he indicated one, but then gathered that he was the other, throughout the course of conversation, LOL. In any case he was from Beverly Hills, as was the businessman who completed our little foursome. I'll admit I might have somewhat embellished my rather mundane state tourism job to keep up appearances, LOL. Mister dermotologist/vet might have been onto me, as he asked for a business card that I didn't have along, but oh well, LOL!
The next morning I slept through the early and abbreviated breakfast - or thought I had - but it turned out we were running late and so the diner was announcing that it was open well beyond the advertised 5:30am. I still decided to skip breakfast. It was interesting viewing the increasingly urban landscapes as we rolled on into L.A., eventually arriving slightly early even after having been late as relatively close by as San Bernardino. Tom got on the intercom to point out the Santa Fe steam loco residing under its tarp in the Amtrak shops area, and to point out City Hall, aka the Daily Planet, as we backed into the station, and also Dan Akroyd's private railcar.
I didn't have any trouble navigating Los Angeles Union Station, and after a brief rest in its beautiful waiting room, I got in the designated line for the northbound Surfliner, which arrived and departed on time. More scenery I enjoyed, especially the tunnels around Chatsworth and rolling through the groves and strawberry fields - again we ain't got those in Eastern Kentucky, folks! - and of course my very first glimpse of the Pacific around Ventura. The stretch from there onto Santa Barbara right along the coast was just gorgeous, as a fog was just lifting off the ocean, and we even passed a group of surfers. Somewhere along the way I availed myself of a light breakfast from the lounge car - which has a better layout for its downstairs service area than do the long distance Superliners, in my book. We arrived in Santa Barbara right on time, and I simply walked across the tracks to reach Hotel Indigo were I dropped off my bag before going sightseeing. I tremendously enjoyed my day and night in Santa Barbara. It is a truly beautiful city. After checking out Stearns Wharf and enjoying a great fish and chips lunch out there, and shopping on State Street, I checked into the Hotel Indigo, which I'd highly recommend, by the way, then headed to the beach for awhile. I had dinner at Joe's, which has been there since 1929, has a classic '40s diner feel, and serves up an awesome fried chicken sandwich and onion rings with a tremendously stiff rum and coke!
I was up early the next morning to catch the first Surfliner back to L.A. Weary passengers of some connecting Amtrak California Bus came dragging in a few minutes before our departure, then we go on our way, arriving back into L.A. without event. I stored my bag at Union Station, then hopped on the Red Line subway over to Hollywood and Highland. I got my tourist on in Hollywood, checking out Hollywood and Highland Center, taking pics of the sign, the footprints, and the Walk of Fame. The Hollywood and Highland Center and Grauman's (that's what it is, I don't care if they have renamed it!) are both great. I walked down Hollywood Blvd to Vine, then down Vine to Sunset, and back on the other side of the two streets. That stretch is a lot different than the area of Hollywood and Highland, but it is still just as I'd expected it would be: Urban, seedy, complete with junky gift shops and street people, intermingled with the Walk of Fame Stars of your favorite classic movie icons. "Boulevard of Broken Dreams," indeed. The Walk of Fame almost seems like it should be in a quaint beautiful area like Santa Barbara's State Street, rather than where it is, was my thought - but again, I figured it would be in the setting it is in, though. The Hollywood History Museum, located diagonally across from the Hollywood and Highland Center, is well worth the 15 bucks to get in, especially if you are a classic film fan like I am. They have EVERYONE's autograph, it is in Max Factor's original building with his original makeup rooms, including the one where he turned Norma Jeane into Marilyn. There's everything from her dress and death certificate to Pee Wee Herman's bicycle in there, it was a lot of fun! I got totally sunburned in Hollywood, as it was HOT in L.A., a big change from the ocean-breeze 75 I'd enjoyed in Santa Barbara the day before, but it was still fun and worth it. Overall, I could totally not only go and stay a week in Santa Barbara, but I could LIVE in Santa Barbara - whereas Hollywood - must see, but once you've seen it you've seen it - again, just as I'd expected!
I subway'd it back to Union Station, retrieved my bag, waited about an hour in the waiting room, then got on the Southwest Chief shortly after they started boarding. This time my roomette was downstairs, and my SCA was the charming Peggy. "Crazy Tom" had been fun and entertaining on the way out, but I admit I was ready for a more typical (in a good way) SCA for the return trip, and Peggy was indeed just that - professional, efficient, and genuinely friendly - much like Delissa on the Cardinal is. Before we got back to Chicago, she was calling me "darlin'" every time we passed in the hall - a truly sweet person who seems to really enjoy her passengers, and her job, which she noted that she has had for I think she said 14 years now.
Not only was I downstairs, but also on the other side of the train, on the way back. Both of which provided some variety. All went well all the way back to Chicago. One more small world thing happened at lunch one day, when the older gentleman I was seated with explained that he had worked for the L&N back in the 60s and 70s and had spent time in Corbin, KY, only about an hour from where I have lived all my life. Only other thing notable on the return trip on the Chief was that the signals were malfunctioning between Raton Pass and Trinidad, which put us a little late into La Junta, but permitted me to watch a beautiful Colorado sunset as we rolled slowly between signals, stopping at every single one, and at one point for the crew to inspect a bridge. All of which tells me BNSF's deferred maitainence of the possibly-to-be-abandonded stretch is starting to show. We got back into Chicago thirty minutes early, and I loved the announcement the conductor made as we approached Union Station: "We apologize for being thirty minutes early, but be sure to tell all of your friends, because you would if we were late!" LOL! It is worth noting that the train had been totally sold out between LA and Albuquerque and between Kansas City and Chicago. But nobody travels by train...
I went upstairs for a brief little (cold) fresh air by the Chicago River, but otherwise spent my couple of hours of layover in the Metropolitan Lounge. The Cardinal boarded and departed on time. I prefer Viewliner roomettes to Superliner roomettes, they just seem roomier, and when traveling alone I don't even mind the soon-to-be-gone sink and toilet! My SCA for this leg of the trip was Joe, a friendly young guy from Brooklyn who told my neighbors across the hall that he'd been with Amtrak for 8 months after having previously been a school bus driver. I'd imagine dealing with kids on a bus is good prep for dealing with some Amtrak sleeper passengers, but I digress, LOL. Joe was very friendly and efficient, and checked on us all frequently. He was also helping out in the dinette/lounge during meals. The chicken dish for dinner that night was surprisingly good, and I was seated with an hilarious mother and adult son traveling to Beckley, WV from Madison, WI to get a car (long and hilarious story he told me about the whole thing during dinner!)
The next morning I woke up just in time to look out my roomette curtain at my car sitting in Ashland as we made our brief stop there. I decided that if I was going all the way to California and back, I was also going to finally see the New River Gorge while I was at it, so I booked my return roomette from Chicago - Clifton Forge. Even on a rainy and gloomy St. Patrick's Day, the Gorge did not disappoint, it was beautiful. I bid Joe and the Card goodbye, and spent my four hour layover in Clifton Forge by walking over to look at the 614 and other equipment at the C&O Heritage Center and grabbing some lunch. The westbound Card was only about 15 minutes late, and several passengers boarded in Clifton Forge. I did coach for this last stretch, as it was only about six hours. This was my first time in coach on a long distance Amtrak train, and as I figured it confirmed that I don't mind doing coach for a short stretch, but for anything overnight, I'll either get a roomette or stay home til I can save up for one! I had an unimpressive sub from the cafe, and we got back to Ashland a couple of minutes early.
This was a great trip, and I'm very glad I got to take it. I'm sure I'll manage to go somewhere on Amtrak again before the year is over, but its likely to be awhile before I have either the time off or the money for a cross-country trip again though.
Edit: Forgot to include a couple of things.
Once in Chicago, I dropped my bag in the Metropolitan Lounge and walked to State Street and back, as the weather wasn't too bad at all for Chicago in March (upper 40s). Did some window shopping and had lunch at the deli in Macy's basement, then headed back to the station. The Southwest Chief left right on time, and I had an upper level roomette in the 31 car, with car attendant self-described "Crazy Tom." He proved to make the next 40-some hours very enjoyable, with a dry humor that reminded me a bit of Johnny Carson and a very laid back, and yet no-nonsense, approach to "running" his sleeping car. My neighbors across the hall all the way to L.A. would be an older couple from Sweden, and they were quite interesting as well. I had never traveled west of a line from Chicago-Memphis-New Orleans via Amtrak nor any other means before, so now I was getting to the part of the trip about which I was most excited.
That first afternoon we ran across the plains of Illinois which still showed some melting signs of the blizzard that had gone through a week or so before. I got a picture of the Burlington steam locomotive at Galesburg and got off the train to stretch my legs briefly in Ft. Madison. I had dinner (the steak was great!) with a friendly couple probably in their 50s or so from Jackson, MI - I forget their names, as I'm horrible with names, but the husband was a railfan and he said he gets on here sometimes - so hi again if you're reading this! - we got to talking and figured out that a friend of theirs has a daughter who had gone to Berea College in Berea, KY, which is the same town where I work, and is about 25 miles from where I live, and about 130 miles from where I had boarded the train in Ashland. It really is a small world when you talk to people in an Amtrak diner, and that is always one of my favorite things about an Amtrak trip. I was asleep right after we pulled out of Kansas City, which I thought looked a bit like Louisville, based on what I could see from the train. I slept good this first night on the Chief, waking briefly only once while we were stopped in Newton, Kansas.
I woke up very early on Tuesday the 12th, just as we were leaving Dodge City, Kansas. This made me smile in remembrance of my late stepfather, who I think had watched every rerun of "Gunsmoke" at least three times. I never did get back to sleep after that, and was in the diner for breakfast shortly after it opened, as it was getting light outside and we were somewhere around or west of Garden City, I forget which. By now I was thinking about the fact that we were traversing the section of the Chief's route that may no longer be its route after 2016, but more about that later. Breakfast (eggs and bacon, again just fine) was with a nice couple probably in their 70s from Victorville, CA, home of, as they noted, the late Roy and Dale. They assured me I was going to love California, and the wife was the only person I talked to on the whole trip who had ridden the Santa Fe Super Chief years ago. Another small world moment when we figured out that they had visited the National Quilt Museum in Paducah, KY and loved it, since the lady who used to be the director of that museum is now the director of the Kentucky Artisan Center at Berea, where I currently work.
Here's a good place to note the following, too: Correct me if I'm wrong, but it is the LSA who takes your dinner reservations and is pretty much the dining car steward, among their other duties? If I have that correct, then the person in said position for this westbound trip was Janine (spelling?) and she was very friendly and efficient as was the rest of the staff.
I got off the train again briefly in La Junta, and at this point we were running pretty much on time. Between there and Trinidad, as we got into the foothills, we also got into increasingly more snow on the ground, which was beautiful. All I can say about Raton Pass is that it was as gorgeous as I'd expected, especially with snow on. The kid in me of course loved the tunnel at the top.
The railfan in me was processing the notion that Newton - La Junta may soon go freight only. Would Trinidad - Albuquerque actually end up totally abandoned within just a few years??? That thought rang through my mind through all the beautiful scenery on the stretch that is exotic to a Kentuckian who had not been west before - as we crossed the pass, headed down the other side, and through the sagebrush-dotted, desert-ish scenery that heretofore I'd only seen on Westerns and Roadrunner cartoons. Who knows, but I would wager to guess that if the Chief leaves the pass and BNSF files for abandonment between Trinidad (I say Trinidad rather than La Junta, because I remember seeing the coal operation just west of there that appears to still use rail service) and Albuquerque - or wherever between there is currently passenger only - then I would hope that at least the stretch from, say, Trinidad to Las Vegas or Lamy gets saved for some sort of tourist train. Who knows, at any rate I'm glad I got to ride the route now, since it could end up nothing more than a trail or a memory within just a few years.
As we got closer to Albuquerque, and the snow-capped mountains which I was told were ski slopes near Santa Fe, came into view off to the north of the train, I was having lunch with again the couple from Jackson, MI, and this time we were joined by a man who was traveling from Kansas City to Albuquerque. He explained that he was heading there to visit property he owned to the north of the city, to which he plans to retire, and is currently figuring out what to do about building on. He also told us the story of the Civil War and Glorietta Pass, which was repeated a bit later when I was back in the sleeper by "Crazy Tom" over the intercom. I'm a history buff, and a mild Civil War buff, but amazingly I was previously unaware of this interesting footnote of the farthest battle west of the War Between the States.
Albuquerque was as pretty as I'd always heard from people who have either driven to and/or through it, or flown there, but I'm the first person I know who arrived by train. We were still close to on time in spite of a couple of slow orders for track work east of the city, so I had plenty of time to check out the wares on the station platform and pick up a pair of silver and turqouise earrings for my mother. I'm no expert at all, but it seemed to me that the stuff being sold ranged from authentic Navajo, to authentic white area artisan, to authentic Chinese-made flea market crap; not necessarily a bad thing, at least that way there is something in every price range for anyone from the train who wanted to pick up a "I was there" souvenir. I marveled at how there had been all that snow back up on Raton Pass, but down in Albuquerque it was sunny and 65!
Dinner that night, as we rolled through some real Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote - type orange rock scenery and into the sunset along Rt. 66 was again good. I actually opted once again for the steak and potato - hey if it ain't broke and is tasty don't change it, lol! My dinner companions seemed to be the most - shall we say sophisticated - of the trip, which was interesting and a little amusing to a decidedly down to earth, and even lower-class (at least compared to the three of them!) Kentuckian. One of them was younger than me (I'm 35) and was returning from a six-month stay in New York City working on a project as a documentary producer. One was either a veterinarian or a dermotoloigst, I'm not sure which, I must have misunderstood because I first though he indicated one, but then gathered that he was the other, throughout the course of conversation, LOL. In any case he was from Beverly Hills, as was the businessman who completed our little foursome. I'll admit I might have somewhat embellished my rather mundane state tourism job to keep up appearances, LOL. Mister dermotologist/vet might have been onto me, as he asked for a business card that I didn't have along, but oh well, LOL!
The next morning I slept through the early and abbreviated breakfast - or thought I had - but it turned out we were running late and so the diner was announcing that it was open well beyond the advertised 5:30am. I still decided to skip breakfast. It was interesting viewing the increasingly urban landscapes as we rolled on into L.A., eventually arriving slightly early even after having been late as relatively close by as San Bernardino. Tom got on the intercom to point out the Santa Fe steam loco residing under its tarp in the Amtrak shops area, and to point out City Hall, aka the Daily Planet, as we backed into the station, and also Dan Akroyd's private railcar.
I didn't have any trouble navigating Los Angeles Union Station, and after a brief rest in its beautiful waiting room, I got in the designated line for the northbound Surfliner, which arrived and departed on time. More scenery I enjoyed, especially the tunnels around Chatsworth and rolling through the groves and strawberry fields - again we ain't got those in Eastern Kentucky, folks! - and of course my very first glimpse of the Pacific around Ventura. The stretch from there onto Santa Barbara right along the coast was just gorgeous, as a fog was just lifting off the ocean, and we even passed a group of surfers. Somewhere along the way I availed myself of a light breakfast from the lounge car - which has a better layout for its downstairs service area than do the long distance Superliners, in my book. We arrived in Santa Barbara right on time, and I simply walked across the tracks to reach Hotel Indigo were I dropped off my bag before going sightseeing. I tremendously enjoyed my day and night in Santa Barbara. It is a truly beautiful city. After checking out Stearns Wharf and enjoying a great fish and chips lunch out there, and shopping on State Street, I checked into the Hotel Indigo, which I'd highly recommend, by the way, then headed to the beach for awhile. I had dinner at Joe's, which has been there since 1929, has a classic '40s diner feel, and serves up an awesome fried chicken sandwich and onion rings with a tremendously stiff rum and coke!
I was up early the next morning to catch the first Surfliner back to L.A. Weary passengers of some connecting Amtrak California Bus came dragging in a few minutes before our departure, then we go on our way, arriving back into L.A. without event. I stored my bag at Union Station, then hopped on the Red Line subway over to Hollywood and Highland. I got my tourist on in Hollywood, checking out Hollywood and Highland Center, taking pics of the sign, the footprints, and the Walk of Fame. The Hollywood and Highland Center and Grauman's (that's what it is, I don't care if they have renamed it!) are both great. I walked down Hollywood Blvd to Vine, then down Vine to Sunset, and back on the other side of the two streets. That stretch is a lot different than the area of Hollywood and Highland, but it is still just as I'd expected it would be: Urban, seedy, complete with junky gift shops and street people, intermingled with the Walk of Fame Stars of your favorite classic movie icons. "Boulevard of Broken Dreams," indeed. The Walk of Fame almost seems like it should be in a quaint beautiful area like Santa Barbara's State Street, rather than where it is, was my thought - but again, I figured it would be in the setting it is in, though. The Hollywood History Museum, located diagonally across from the Hollywood and Highland Center, is well worth the 15 bucks to get in, especially if you are a classic film fan like I am. They have EVERYONE's autograph, it is in Max Factor's original building with his original makeup rooms, including the one where he turned Norma Jeane into Marilyn. There's everything from her dress and death certificate to Pee Wee Herman's bicycle in there, it was a lot of fun! I got totally sunburned in Hollywood, as it was HOT in L.A., a big change from the ocean-breeze 75 I'd enjoyed in Santa Barbara the day before, but it was still fun and worth it. Overall, I could totally not only go and stay a week in Santa Barbara, but I could LIVE in Santa Barbara - whereas Hollywood - must see, but once you've seen it you've seen it - again, just as I'd expected!
I subway'd it back to Union Station, retrieved my bag, waited about an hour in the waiting room, then got on the Southwest Chief shortly after they started boarding. This time my roomette was downstairs, and my SCA was the charming Peggy. "Crazy Tom" had been fun and entertaining on the way out, but I admit I was ready for a more typical (in a good way) SCA for the return trip, and Peggy was indeed just that - professional, efficient, and genuinely friendly - much like Delissa on the Cardinal is. Before we got back to Chicago, she was calling me "darlin'" every time we passed in the hall - a truly sweet person who seems to really enjoy her passengers, and her job, which she noted that she has had for I think she said 14 years now.
Not only was I downstairs, but also on the other side of the train, on the way back. Both of which provided some variety. All went well all the way back to Chicago. One more small world thing happened at lunch one day, when the older gentleman I was seated with explained that he had worked for the L&N back in the 60s and 70s and had spent time in Corbin, KY, only about an hour from where I have lived all my life. Only other thing notable on the return trip on the Chief was that the signals were malfunctioning between Raton Pass and Trinidad, which put us a little late into La Junta, but permitted me to watch a beautiful Colorado sunset as we rolled slowly between signals, stopping at every single one, and at one point for the crew to inspect a bridge. All of which tells me BNSF's deferred maitainence of the possibly-to-be-abandonded stretch is starting to show. We got back into Chicago thirty minutes early, and I loved the announcement the conductor made as we approached Union Station: "We apologize for being thirty minutes early, but be sure to tell all of your friends, because you would if we were late!" LOL! It is worth noting that the train had been totally sold out between LA and Albuquerque and between Kansas City and Chicago. But nobody travels by train...
I went upstairs for a brief little (cold) fresh air by the Chicago River, but otherwise spent my couple of hours of layover in the Metropolitan Lounge. The Cardinal boarded and departed on time. I prefer Viewliner roomettes to Superliner roomettes, they just seem roomier, and when traveling alone I don't even mind the soon-to-be-gone sink and toilet! My SCA for this leg of the trip was Joe, a friendly young guy from Brooklyn who told my neighbors across the hall that he'd been with Amtrak for 8 months after having previously been a school bus driver. I'd imagine dealing with kids on a bus is good prep for dealing with some Amtrak sleeper passengers, but I digress, LOL. Joe was very friendly and efficient, and checked on us all frequently. He was also helping out in the dinette/lounge during meals. The chicken dish for dinner that night was surprisingly good, and I was seated with an hilarious mother and adult son traveling to Beckley, WV from Madison, WI to get a car (long and hilarious story he told me about the whole thing during dinner!)
The next morning I woke up just in time to look out my roomette curtain at my car sitting in Ashland as we made our brief stop there. I decided that if I was going all the way to California and back, I was also going to finally see the New River Gorge while I was at it, so I booked my return roomette from Chicago - Clifton Forge. Even on a rainy and gloomy St. Patrick's Day, the Gorge did not disappoint, it was beautiful. I bid Joe and the Card goodbye, and spent my four hour layover in Clifton Forge by walking over to look at the 614 and other equipment at the C&O Heritage Center and grabbing some lunch. The westbound Card was only about 15 minutes late, and several passengers boarded in Clifton Forge. I did coach for this last stretch, as it was only about six hours. This was my first time in coach on a long distance Amtrak train, and as I figured it confirmed that I don't mind doing coach for a short stretch, but for anything overnight, I'll either get a roomette or stay home til I can save up for one! I had an unimpressive sub from the cafe, and we got back to Ashland a couple of minutes early.
This was a great trip, and I'm very glad I got to take it. I'm sure I'll manage to go somewhere on Amtrak again before the year is over, but its likely to be awhile before I have either the time off or the money for a cross-country trip again though.
Edit: Forgot to include a couple of things.
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