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"Living The Hi Life On The Hi Line" (March 10th, 2009) I may never fly again! After I spent
2 days riding coach on the way out here (and not getting a whole lot of sleep) I decided to upgrade my coach ticket for a
sleeper cab. At first, the cost of $150-$175 may seem daunting, but you have to consider a few additional perks, which you
don't truly appreciate until you actually try it.
Well, let me tell you what you get, and then you can try it
yourself.
First. Rather than sit with the rest of the riff-raff (which in my case, would have been a family sharing
the same cold sitting next to me) and experimenting with sleeping in different positions across two uncomfortable seats, with
a crease in the middle that will, without fail, find your hips or ribs at a pressure point, and render them numb - you get
a private cabin, with two seats that fold into a very comfortable layout, and additional bedding and mattress that make it
the best futon you have ever slept on!
Second. Rather than pay for hot dogs and nuked sandwiches at over-inflated
prices (which I did coming out here on coach) - you get a free dinner, breakfast and lunch. My dinner alone was salmon, baked
potato, salad and a peanut butter chocolate torte, which I could not finish.
Third. On a trip that lasts for
over 24 hours, and leaves you momentarily shivering anytime someone comes thru the cars (it was NINE BELOW ZERO when I left
Havre Montana that afternoon) - you get a climate controlled room, complimentary water, and a door you can close and lock...
making it quiet and secure.
Fourth. When you have a battery draining away on your laptop, they provide an outlet
for you to power your devices (so I can write this as long as I want).
Fifth: Rather than stew in your own funk,
after sitting in the same unchanged clothes and unwashed skin - you have a decent shower you can use, and upgraded bathrooms
that don't look like an outdoor port-o-let at a Phish concert.
All
of these things are presently making this experience much more enjoyable, as a blizzard is raging outside somewhere in Minot,
North Dakota. I have a private window showing me just how miserable it is out there right now. Earlier I had an amazing view
of the wildlife in Eastern Montana, as Pronghorn Antelope grazed on prairie grass.
I was also enjoying the company
of three women from different parts of the country. (St. Paul, Oregon, and Montana) and I split a bottle of Columbia Crest
Shiraz with one of them... for $7.00) and I am living the high life.
Just thought you all should know, because
the next time you find yourself on a cross country trip, and decide that the extra money is a wasteful idea... think again!
A side note: I am in the extreme front of the the train, and it is quiet as a mouse. Most of this car is reserved
for the staff, but they decided to give me a roomette with them, and there is less than 1/4 of the 20 rooms taken. Hope they
are not too surprised when they hear the sound of a banjo being played tomorrow somewhere in Minnesota!
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"Let's Cut It"
(Making a
record on a train headed for Chicago. March 11, 2009)
I spent much of my time on the Montana to Chicago
run playing banjo in my sleeper cabin. Sequestered all the way in the front, away from everybody. I recorded dozens of songs,
and got quite a bit of work done. I also slept very well - although I woke up every time the train stopped. There was a delay
somewhere around Fargo. Just before the sun comes up, I get up for some coffee and breakfast in the diner car, and then go
back to my roomette to record for several hours. Around Minneapolis, I emerge from my bunker.
Later on in Wisconsin,
I take a picture of the Mighty Mississippi, as we cross over the bridge.
Around Milwaukee, there are hardly any
people on the train. Because of the delays earlier in North Dakota, some people missed their connections, and would have to
take a bus. I have 4 hours to wait in Chicago, so I am fine. I tip my servant, Dennis a $10 bill and a couple of guitar picks
(he is a beginner on guitar, so he tells me). Once I make it
into Chicago, I start taking tons of photos. I instinctively start walking in the direction that leads me to the cool stuff.
It's cold, but not extremely so. Chicago is a busy place. Lots of panhandling, and lots of cabs. Similar to New York City
in many ways, although smaller in scale. Lots of pubs, and places to eat for all price ranges. After a few hours of walking and taking pictures, I realize that the sun has gone down, and it is dropping
below freezing. My hands are numb from holding my camera, and it's time to head back to Union Station, and get some mexican
food and a few beers. I call my wife at the station, and she tells me that The Valley Advocate is running a full column about
my trip, complete with photo! I celebrate with a can of Guinness.
I finish up my beer and decide it's time for me to get moving. I get my bags
from the locker, and get aboard the train that will take me back to Springfield.
The front half of the train is for
people going to Boston, and the rear is for everyone going to NYC. My car is one of the older, and kind of crummy looking
ones. It rocks around all over the place, and makes typing very difficult. I turn off my laptop, and fall asleep without too
much problem. At this point, the rocking of the train is like being in a locomotive-powered cradle.
"Show Me The Way To Go Home!" (March 12, 2009)
I wake up with the skies lightening somewhere near Erie Pennsylvania, and head to
the diner car. Not as glamorous as the Empire Builder, to say the least. The Lake Shore Limited means "Limited"
in many ways, especially including perks. I sit down, and a dorky looking guy starts whining... "Where's the Observation
Car?"
"Right here!" I reply (holding my arms out to the cheap-looking diner car. "Observe!"
We
are now nearing Albany New York, and all of the NYC bound riders are getting kicked off to the other end of the train. I am
able to stay however, and continue using the 120 Volt outlet to charge my laptop. So now it is just me, my camera, my laptop, and a train full of Amtrak's finest. I am now just one person living
in the final moments of story, sitting on a rattling train, slowly descending the Berkshires, picking up speed in Westfield
(passing familiar landmarks on Route 20) with only one more stop to go. I come to both the birthplace of children's author Doctor Seuss, Blues musician Taj Mahal, Smith & Wesson Firearms,
and Basketball. Springfield is a city with a colorful past, an underachieving present and a questionable future, but it marks my final stop, and for that reason I am as glad to see it as I was to see Eastend, Saskatchewan. Because of the story I now get to tell everyone! THE END
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Scott Lawson Pomeroy
"Return To Big Rock Candy Mountain"
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