dannyman.toldme.com

California Zephyr

The hotel’s breakfast buffet was decent and important because breakfast is not served on the train which departs at 8:25 am. We ate our eggs and sausage and cereal and whatnot and schlepped to the pedestrian overpass where we were greeted in the elevator by a man just waking up across from a pool of vomit. Grandma was comfortable enough taking the stairs up if I handled the luggage. We crossed the tracks to the other elevator, to which the man had moved so that he could rest away from vomit. We rode down in the vomit-free second elevator with the man, and ambled over to where the lady was yelling to the assembled throng how boarding would work. Welcome to the glamor of train travel in America!

The train rolled up and we crept our way down the narrow platform to our boarding places, dutifully staying behind the yellow line, except where the platform had been flooded by rain. We found our first-class sleeper car and the attendant re-assigned our two rooms on the spot so we could have adjacent bedrooms. She later obtained the special key to open the partition between them. I appreciated her initiative, because I had previously called Amtrak, waited on hold, and spoke with a nice person who had access to The Slowest Computer which couldn’t help me anyway but rest assured it doesn’t matter if the bedrooms are next to each other. Sure. I figured if there was any improvement to be made to that situation the Train Staff would not be encumbered by computers and they would do what was right by them. Worked out great.

I wandered to the rear end of the train, where you can look out the window. Great view.

There were a decent number of folks riding to Reno, a favorite gambling spot for some Californians. A lady explained that driving was faster, but if the weather wasn’t looking great, the train was a more relaxing experience. As we climbed into the Sierra Nevada Mountains East of Sacramento, the snow picked up. Mobile phones alerted that there was a snow storm in effect. I watched the adjacent rails as the snow grew deeper, and was covered. Our train was delayed at Truckee around 90 minutes. As we waited, someone from the crew stepped off to make a snowman along the tracks. Slowly, snow accumulated on the top windows of the observation dome. It was a pleasant time, watching the snow cover the trees as we waited. A set of seven Union Pacific locomotives passed us headed downhill, then later the plow train: two diesels and a caboose with a plow beneath. The deal is the plow train ran down the line to a loop where it spun around and plowed back up the line. Before long, the plow train passed us again, heading East. Once the line was clear we were off again through the snow on plowed rails.

Waiting with no urgency for the plow at Truckee.

Reno is a “fresh air stop” where you can get off the train for up to fifteen minutes to smoke a cigarette or let your dog pee “but don’t go upstairs.” From the train platform, Reno looks like a bomb shelter. Atop the concrete canyon you can just make out a few tall hotels.

We spent most of our time in the Observation Lounge. The train staff made regular announcements for new passengers that the lounge was for People Not Luggage. I sighed that I wish they made these announcements on Caltrain, where half the seats are reserved for backpacks. A recent Caltrain encounter: I went to sit at a table, and I wasn’t In The Mood. I lifted a guy’s backpack off my seat to set it across the table.

He calmly caught it and said, “You could just ask.”

I gestured at the mass of baseball fans that had packed the car. “You could read the room.”

“It is important to be polite.”

I smacked my hand on the table in agreement, “Yes! It is important to be polite!”

We were amiable enough after that interaction. But yes, it would be a sweet treat indeed if Caltrain riders had better etiquette.

Anyway, part of the fun of the train is the other passengers, overhearing conversations. An older guy with an old red cap covered in train pins explained to someone the distinctions between Alcos, F units, and E units, and what trains he had ridden as a kid, and how he was headed home to see his folks. At one point he mentioned his love of visiting the Museum of Science and Industry. I leaned over and chirped that was my spot every weekend when I was a kid. We chatted a bit and I mentioned that a new thing nearby is the Obama library, a towering modern structure near the classical architecture of the museum. He said he wasn’t fond of Obama, as the Affordable Care Act had pushed up his health insurance, but his wife had voted for him. Fair enough. Later I noticed that the button on his hat that said “2024” had the word “Trump” just above.

It is important to be polite.

Waiting for lunch in the dining car.

We moved East. Dinner was good. The menu, as far as I know, is the same every day for decades on end, modified only when the Pandemic limited the menu. I had, as usual, steak and potatoes and a glass of wine.

The attendant folded the seats in our cabin into bunks. The First Class Bedrooms shoehorn in a toilet room that also serves as a snug shower stall. When the lower bunk is extended, you enter the room by shuffling past the mattress, which mostly blocks the narrow doorway. Five of us and four bunks, with the bottom bunks I would describe as “twin and a half.” The boys were nervous about the top bunks, but Older Son took the one above Grandma. Mom took the top bunk above the one I shared with Younger Son. The night was comfortable enough. Quiet. Warmer than I like. The train rocked pleasantly. When he woke in the morning, Younger Son looked up out the window at the scrubby hills of Eastern Utah and said it was pretty.

Whizzing out of Utah and into Colorado the next morning.

I tried the narrow shower and it was alright. During breakfast, the attendant folded the beds back into daytime seating and, with our blessing, consolidated our luggage into one bedroom so she could clean the other for passengers boarding at Grand Junction, where we were getting off. We lounged more in the observation car: the train came upon and paralleled the Colorado River, which meandered through the scrubby landscape, offering gentle rapids in spots, alternating with sandy banks. There were groups of folks riding the river in rafts, some camping. It looked to me like a good time. Around the river the scenery was wonderful. In the distance were a few snow-capped peaks.