Pack just what you need and no more. Use a smaller rolling suitcase you could stow overhead if there's no room in the baggage compartment and take along one backpack you can take to your seat. Don't take a purse, put all your essentials in your backpack/shoulder bag. Put luggage tags on your suitcase and your shoulder bag. Plan for delays-Amtrak's on time record is dismal.
Bring a book to read or puzzle books. If you have room to bring a small blanket, do so-we were chilly on the train going out. Bring a neck pillow. Take along a bottle of water and some simple snacks. Bring hand sanitizer and use frequently!
Wear comfortable shoes and clothes you can be in for a day or more. Settle in and relax. Understand you aren't getting anywhere fast. If something is dreadfully wrong (i.e., a nauseating odor you can't stand) notify your car attendant, if you can find him or her, and they should try to make it right.
Many people (including us) used cell phones on the trip, but it gets noisy with everybody doing that. Enjoy the observation and lounge cars, but know that people who have sleeper berths have to hang out in these cars because they can't sit in the coach seats and it may be crowded.
If motion bothers you, take something for it before you get on the train. If you can stand going without a meal, do so because the food is expensive and not of very good quality. However, the dining car experience is something I guess everybody should try at least once.
The bathrooms on the train are functional, however, it is not a pleasant experience to use them. At one point I used the restroom for handicapped folks and it was better-more room and there wasn't a million and three people who had already gone before.
I do think that Amtrak's PR people have not done a good job of informing first time riders what it's like. They do say "No Baggage Service" but until you are standing there with a 50 pound suitcase to hoist up a narrow steep, winding train staircase, you don't really know what that means. It is a no frills, you take care of your own stuff kind of trip. It's pleasant enough, but don't expect a lot of customer service.
And, we did not submit any suitcases or bags through x-ray machines. You probably could carry a Howitzer on board without notice. So if lack of security aboard public transportation bothers you, don't take the train.
All in all, I think I would do it again now that I know what to expect. It's not a bad way to get somewhere, meet some people along the way, and see some sights.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
The last leg of the trip
Leaving Chicago, I looked out the window at the industrial landscape. Because I'm from Kansas, I've never seen a salvage yard for watercraft, but lo and behold, close to Union Station in Chicago the train tracks run alongside a huge piece of property with a myriad of different kinds and sizes of boats, all in a sad state of disrepair. There's a lot of rundown two story houses, built within just a few feet of each other. I stared out the window, wondering how you would install siding or windows if you were working in a 3 or 4 foot space.
On the train, I read a book, visited with Rebekah, learned what a "Zune" was, and people watched. The attendant made an announcement that the train was full, thus they were taking reservations for the dining car for supper. She was going to start with the people who had sleeping berths, then work her way up the train from the last coach car forward. We were in the first coach car, so we didn't hold out much hope. An hour or two later, she appeared, and as she stopped by our seats, she said she had one reservation left, at 8:45 pm. We took it, wanting to give the train dining experience another try.
Soon, an announcement was made that they were behind schedule in serving people with reservations, and as the evening progressed, they got further and further behind. At about 6:00pm, I went to the snack car and got a bowl of cereal and some milk. We ate crackers and other things we had brought onboard with us and spent some time in the observation car, enjoying the scenery rolling by. At 9:45pm, fully one hour late, all those with 8:45 reservations were called. We were seated across from a couple who were from Niles, Michigan, and were on their way to Flagstaff AZ for a bowling tournament. Conversation was basically pleasant, although the man was very sarcastic and rude as he muttered under his breath at the wait staff. We had Black Angus burgers and salads, and a serving of Haagen Daz.
After our late supper, we strolled back to our seats and settled in for the remainder of our trip. It grew dark and quiet on the train, with people sleeping and visiting quietly. The couple seated in front of us and a gray haired woman across the aisle were from Newton, and chatted pleasantly. At the various stops, no announcements were made of what town we were in. The car attendants placed a ticket over your seat with your destination, then came to get you when you're supposed to be getting off. Suddenly, the train stopped. We were near Newton (I found out later that we were actually in the Walton area), and stopped dead on the tracks. Rebekah was anxious to get her things together, so we gathered up our stuff and went downstairs to where our suitcases were. Another woman and her granddaughter followed us down. There were 3 or 4 men standing in the baggage area, also waiting to get off in Newton. An Amtrak employee came down and waited for the signal to open the doors. And there we all stood. It was about 3:15am.
We waited for almost 45 minutes. An authoritative man, looking like he might be the conductor, came down and said we were waiting on the eastbound train to come through before we could roll into the station. A few more minutes went by and here came the eastbound, inches from us on the other track. Still we sat. Here came a freight train. Still we sat. Here came another freight train. THEN, we started rolling. Made it into the Newton station at 4:30 or so, and I was home by 5:00am, in my own bed. I'll never forget how good that felt!
Final comments tomorrow.
On the train, I read a book, visited with Rebekah, learned what a "Zune" was, and people watched. The attendant made an announcement that the train was full, thus they were taking reservations for the dining car for supper. She was going to start with the people who had sleeping berths, then work her way up the train from the last coach car forward. We were in the first coach car, so we didn't hold out much hope. An hour or two later, she appeared, and as she stopped by our seats, she said she had one reservation left, at 8:45 pm. We took it, wanting to give the train dining experience another try.
Soon, an announcement was made that they were behind schedule in serving people with reservations, and as the evening progressed, they got further and further behind. At about 6:00pm, I went to the snack car and got a bowl of cereal and some milk. We ate crackers and other things we had brought onboard with us and spent some time in the observation car, enjoying the scenery rolling by. At 9:45pm, fully one hour late, all those with 8:45 reservations were called. We were seated across from a couple who were from Niles, Michigan, and were on their way to Flagstaff AZ for a bowling tournament. Conversation was basically pleasant, although the man was very sarcastic and rude as he muttered under his breath at the wait staff. We had Black Angus burgers and salads, and a serving of Haagen Daz.
After our late supper, we strolled back to our seats and settled in for the remainder of our trip. It grew dark and quiet on the train, with people sleeping and visiting quietly. The couple seated in front of us and a gray haired woman across the aisle were from Newton, and chatted pleasantly. At the various stops, no announcements were made of what town we were in. The car attendants placed a ticket over your seat with your destination, then came to get you when you're supposed to be getting off. Suddenly, the train stopped. We were near Newton (I found out later that we were actually in the Walton area), and stopped dead on the tracks. Rebekah was anxious to get her things together, so we gathered up our stuff and went downstairs to where our suitcases were. Another woman and her granddaughter followed us down. There were 3 or 4 men standing in the baggage area, also waiting to get off in Newton. An Amtrak employee came down and waited for the signal to open the doors. And there we all stood. It was about 3:15am.
We waited for almost 45 minutes. An authoritative man, looking like he might be the conductor, came down and said we were waiting on the eastbound train to come through before we could roll into the station. A few more minutes went by and here came the eastbound, inches from us on the other track. Still we sat. Here came a freight train. Still we sat. Here came another freight train. THEN, we started rolling. Made it into the Newton station at 4:30 or so, and I was home by 5:00am, in my own bed. I'll never forget how good that felt!
Final comments tomorrow.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Train Trip Installment #3
We arrived exhausted, but very glad to be "home". The next 4 days sort of go by in a blur as I remember them, but we had all kinds of fun. We played games, visited, had a professional massage, went shopping, ate out, enjoyed Linda's cooking, had fun with the niece and nephew, heard a bagpiper on St Patty's day, relaxed, and rested. Too quickly the time went by and we found ourselves in the Jackson train station, waiting for the westbound to come by and whisk us off to Chicago.
However, in order to make things easier for us on the way back, my daughter UPS'd her small suitcase, packed with "bricks", back home. We both bought new shoulder bags, actually more like backpacks, which we wore in order to have both hands free to wrestle suitcases. We hopped on the train at Jackson, right on time, and found plenty of storage for big suitcases on the train-no upper level. In Chicago, 3 hours later around noon, we knew just where to go and what to do-immediately we found the gate that the Southwest Chief would depart from at 3:25 and since we were so early, we were able to find seats to sit close to the gate. We parked there and I knew just where to go in search of food, found lunch and brought it back, PLUS (I hate to admit this) I bought a Cinnabon as well that we shared.
I then had a firsthand view of the seemingly confusing way Amtrak boards trains. We were in a big room, with a moderately sized room in front of us. Through the doors to that room, were the doors to walk out of the station and get on the train. That room was empty, and we couldn't figure out why there was a guard posted there to keep people from going in. About 40 minutes before time to leave, the announcement was made for all those with disabilities, over 65, and with small children to please line up and have tickets and ID's ready. Those people then, were led to that room and waited there instead of with us at the "regular" gate. After they lined up and left my daughter hopped up and stood at the door, the first in line in our room to get on the train. We stood for 20 or 25 minutes, while a long line formed behind us.
Finally, after the first room boarded, we were able to board, and once again, we were semi-panicked about how we were going to manage everything up that awful staircase. No need to worry! (Why do we do that???) I got on board, and with my tunnel vision fully employed, headed toward the staircase. I heard this, "MOM! OVER HERE!" I turned, and realized I didn't even see the luggage compartment on the lower level, nearly empty. Quickly I loaded my suitcase and we headed for the staircase empty handed except for our backpacks. However, before I started up the stairs I looked to my left to see if there were people sitting on the lower level already, and whaddya know, there were no seats in that section. Amtrak had removed them, and turned that section into a small baggage car, so, even had we been the last ones in line, there would have been plenty of room for us to stow our suitcases in there without dragging them up to the upper level where we were sitting.
Last installment coming up!
However, in order to make things easier for us on the way back, my daughter UPS'd her small suitcase, packed with "bricks", back home. We both bought new shoulder bags, actually more like backpacks, which we wore in order to have both hands free to wrestle suitcases. We hopped on the train at Jackson, right on time, and found plenty of storage for big suitcases on the train-no upper level. In Chicago, 3 hours later around noon, we knew just where to go and what to do-immediately we found the gate that the Southwest Chief would depart from at 3:25 and since we were so early, we were able to find seats to sit close to the gate. We parked there and I knew just where to go in search of food, found lunch and brought it back, PLUS (I hate to admit this) I bought a Cinnabon as well that we shared.
I then had a firsthand view of the seemingly confusing way Amtrak boards trains. We were in a big room, with a moderately sized room in front of us. Through the doors to that room, were the doors to walk out of the station and get on the train. That room was empty, and we couldn't figure out why there was a guard posted there to keep people from going in. About 40 minutes before time to leave, the announcement was made for all those with disabilities, over 65, and with small children to please line up and have tickets and ID's ready. Those people then, were led to that room and waited there instead of with us at the "regular" gate. After they lined up and left my daughter hopped up and stood at the door, the first in line in our room to get on the train. We stood for 20 or 25 minutes, while a long line formed behind us.
Finally, after the first room boarded, we were able to board, and once again, we were semi-panicked about how we were going to manage everything up that awful staircase. No need to worry! (Why do we do that???) I got on board, and with my tunnel vision fully employed, headed toward the staircase. I heard this, "MOM! OVER HERE!" I turned, and realized I didn't even see the luggage compartment on the lower level, nearly empty. Quickly I loaded my suitcase and we headed for the staircase empty handed except for our backpacks. However, before I started up the stairs I looked to my left to see if there were people sitting on the lower level already, and whaddya know, there were no seats in that section. Amtrak had removed them, and turned that section into a small baggage car, so, even had we been the last ones in line, there would have been plenty of room for us to stow our suitcases in there without dragging them up to the upper level where we were sitting.
Last installment coming up!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Chicago Union Station
Union station in Chicago is intimidating to the first time visitor. The trains pull up and stop in an underground labryinth of rails and cement walkways. We alighted from the train and asked for directions, and set out walking. It felt like quite a long ways to go, but in reality, probably was 2 or 3 city blocks. We finally found the passenger entrance, and there we were, two of a throng of people. We waited in a line to use the restroom and developed a plan. Our breakfast guests had told us that for lunch, we could simply go upstairs at Union Station and find all manner of food, so, hauling our luggage, we followed the Food Court signs to escalators going up. Because several trains had disembarked passengers, the Food Court was packed with people. People everywhere, milling around, hawking merchandise, eating while on the run. The noise was deafening. We finally found a table and two chairs and I went in search of lunch, leaving Rebekah with the luggage.
Those of you who know me know that I have absolutely no directional sense whatsoever. If I don't pay particular attention to gate numbers, parking lot rows, or entrances, I can easily get turned around and become lost. Walking away from our table in that unfamiliar place, with a million and three people around, while keeping my bearings was quite a challenge-I had to mentally note exactly where I was going and what I was walking past. I found a little sandwich shop around the corner and ordered. On the way back, I missed a landmark and walked way past the corner she was in, but had the sense to turn around and retrace my steps. Thankfully, she was wearing a bright red overcoat, so I spotted her in the sea of faces.
We ate, and since our connecting train was leaving at 6:00, decided we needed to find our gate. We waited in line at the Amtrak Information desk, and a friendly woman told us we needed to get new tickets, as I had called and changed our destination from Ann Arbor to Jackson. We waited in another longer line to get replacement tickets, all the while, dragging our luggage along. Finally we were set to go to the waiting area, and by the time we got there, there was no place to sit. People were crammed wall to wall, and I realized that there were many trains departing from this particular gate-not only Amtrak trains, but Chicago communter metro trains. Trying to listen to garbled announcements over the loud speaker was exasperating, plus, we were already nervous about once again trying to haul our luggage aboard the train heading for Jackson.
Faith is the victory! I reminded Rebekah that God had provided two people to help us earlier in the day, and that we would make it just fine. My words were comforting, my stomach was in knots and my heart was pounding.
Finally, we heard the call for train # 354 to Jackson, and got toward the end of a very long line, inching our way forward. "Please have your tickets and picture ID ready." Exhausted and nervous, we headed out the gate and walked toward our waiting train. Here we go! Up, up, and up. Three normal sized steps and we're done. We looked around, amazed. This is not a Superliner, there's only one level of train here. And it's a newer model. There's a place right there to put our luggage.
Gratefully we find our seats. Suddenly our spirits lift, and we're on the way to Jackson. After a pleasant 4 hours, we're there, and Max meets us at the Jackson train station. We're right on time and he's right on time. He calls to us and we drag everything over to him. "Whaddya got in here, BRICKS?" he says as he lifts our luggage into the car. "Yes," we say, "BRICKS! We brought BRICKS to Michigan!"
Those of you who know me know that I have absolutely no directional sense whatsoever. If I don't pay particular attention to gate numbers, parking lot rows, or entrances, I can easily get turned around and become lost. Walking away from our table in that unfamiliar place, with a million and three people around, while keeping my bearings was quite a challenge-I had to mentally note exactly where I was going and what I was walking past. I found a little sandwich shop around the corner and ordered. On the way back, I missed a landmark and walked way past the corner she was in, but had the sense to turn around and retrace my steps. Thankfully, she was wearing a bright red overcoat, so I spotted her in the sea of faces.
We ate, and since our connecting train was leaving at 6:00, decided we needed to find our gate. We waited in line at the Amtrak Information desk, and a friendly woman told us we needed to get new tickets, as I had called and changed our destination from Ann Arbor to Jackson. We waited in another longer line to get replacement tickets, all the while, dragging our luggage along. Finally we were set to go to the waiting area, and by the time we got there, there was no place to sit. People were crammed wall to wall, and I realized that there were many trains departing from this particular gate-not only Amtrak trains, but Chicago communter metro trains. Trying to listen to garbled announcements over the loud speaker was exasperating, plus, we were already nervous about once again trying to haul our luggage aboard the train heading for Jackson.
Faith is the victory! I reminded Rebekah that God had provided two people to help us earlier in the day, and that we would make it just fine. My words were comforting, my stomach was in knots and my heart was pounding.
Finally, we heard the call for train # 354 to Jackson, and got toward the end of a very long line, inching our way forward. "Please have your tickets and picture ID ready." Exhausted and nervous, we headed out the gate and walked toward our waiting train. Here we go! Up, up, and up. Three normal sized steps and we're done. We looked around, amazed. This is not a Superliner, there's only one level of train here. And it's a newer model. There's a place right there to put our luggage.
Gratefully we find our seats. Suddenly our spirits lift, and we're on the way to Jackson. After a pleasant 4 hours, we're there, and Max meets us at the Jackson train station. We're right on time and he's right on time. He calls to us and we drag everything over to him. "Whaddya got in here, BRICKS?" he says as he lifts our luggage into the car. "Yes," we say, "BRICKS! We brought BRICKS to Michigan!"
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Train Installment #2
After plopping down, we discovered a few pleasant things about coach seats. They do recline, further than you would expect. A footrest pops up, and when everyone is in this position, it looks like rows of recliners. There's also a bar to put your feet on attached to the seat in front of you. The windows are good sized for viewing. We settled in with the small pillows the attendant gave us and tried to sleep. In the cars, there is not a lot of engine noise, and it is quieter than an airplane.
I dozed intermittently. There were people who got off the train in Topeka and Lawrence, and as we reached Kansas City, as an announcement was made that we were stopping twice, once to pick up passengers and once for fuel.
Around 6:30, an announcement was made that breakfast would be served in the dining car by reservation only. My daughter walked all the way up to the dining car and put our name on the list, and we were called at 8:30. We began making our way up there. Walking on a train is an art form-there are times that tracks are smooth and it's fairly easy. But there are many times that the car rocks back and forth, and sways-you feel as if you are on a carnival ride at the state fair. We carefully navigated through 4 coach cars (we were in the one on the end), and an observation car, and finally reached the dining car, only to be told by the dining steward that he had seated someone else at our table because "you took too long to get here". My daughter explained that we were in the last car, and came as soon as we were called, but, alas, there was no seating for us. He told us to wait in the observation car and he would call us in "two minutes". Two minutes stretched into 5, 10, 15, and 20. I checked back in with him, by saying, "This is the longest two minutes I've ever had to wait", and he seated us at a table that had been cleaned off.
Other than the brusqueness of our wait staff, breakfast was a pleasant affair. Across from us was an older couple, making their way from Flagstaff AZ to Harrisburg PA, and they were good dining companions. The food was expensive and mediocre.
Back at our seats, more people were awake and talking. Looking out the window, I was fascinated by the five second peeks you get into other people's lives as the train rolled through small towns and farmland. Garden spots were plowed up. We saw a lot of above ground pools with the covers still on them. There were many treehouses and swingsets, BBQ grills and bicycles. I noticed Mobil gas stations with the flying horse logo, and busy downtowns, filled with donut shops, tire repair stores, hometown restaurants, and playgrounds. We passed by a field and I noticed a man standing in the field, looking the opposite direction, and not a car or another soul in sight.
Something else we noticed-the last car on the train developed a significant odor. I thought it smelled like a combination of diesel fuel and sewage, Rebekah thought it was pure raw sewage. The odor became stronger and stronger-and finally, when we saw our car attendant, we asked her about it! "You're right!" she agreed enthusiastically. "This car DOES smell!" She said it was worse in our car than in the rest of the train. She came back a few minutes later with some Febreeze and an air freshener, but the stench overpowered it quickly. It was nauseating. End of the story-she offered to move us to the car ahead, and we quickly took her up on her offer. Leaving the stinky, swaying, last car in the train, we were seated in another coach car, and immediately, our spirits improved. It was wonderful! We tipped her generously for helping us out.
The time went by quickly, and the landscape changed-we were nearing Chicago, and instead of yards, playgrounds, and farmland, we saw industrial smokestacks, office buildings, and substandard housing. The railyard at Chicago is enormous, and I thought of the guy who has to know where all the trains are all the time in order to direct traffic safely.
As we got in to Chicago, we realized that we were going to have to hoist our luggage DOWN all those steps, and a dread came over us. We steeled ourselves for the worst. As we pulled into the station, we put on our coats, gathered up our belongings and mentally prepared for what was ahead. We waited until most passengers had gone from our car, and retrieved our luggage. OOF! Down, OOF! Down a step and OOF! Painfully, we made our way down the steps. I was carrying Rebekah's shoulder bag, as well as my own shoulder bag and large suitcase, in order to give her two hands to drag her suitcases down the steps. As I made the first hairpin turn, I noticed a gentleman ahead of her offering to take her big suitcase, if she could take his small one. Gratefully, she gave exchanged bags. He helped her out, then helped me out. He was so gracious and we were so thankful!
Next: Chicago Union Station Adventures
I dozed intermittently. There were people who got off the train in Topeka and Lawrence, and as we reached Kansas City, as an announcement was made that we were stopping twice, once to pick up passengers and once for fuel.
Around 6:30, an announcement was made that breakfast would be served in the dining car by reservation only. My daughter walked all the way up to the dining car and put our name on the list, and we were called at 8:30. We began making our way up there. Walking on a train is an art form-there are times that tracks are smooth and it's fairly easy. But there are many times that the car rocks back and forth, and sways-you feel as if you are on a carnival ride at the state fair. We carefully navigated through 4 coach cars (we were in the one on the end), and an observation car, and finally reached the dining car, only to be told by the dining steward that he had seated someone else at our table because "you took too long to get here". My daughter explained that we were in the last car, and came as soon as we were called, but, alas, there was no seating for us. He told us to wait in the observation car and he would call us in "two minutes". Two minutes stretched into 5, 10, 15, and 20. I checked back in with him, by saying, "This is the longest two minutes I've ever had to wait", and he seated us at a table that had been cleaned off.
Other than the brusqueness of our wait staff, breakfast was a pleasant affair. Across from us was an older couple, making their way from Flagstaff AZ to Harrisburg PA, and they were good dining companions. The food was expensive and mediocre.
Back at our seats, more people were awake and talking. Looking out the window, I was fascinated by the five second peeks you get into other people's lives as the train rolled through small towns and farmland. Garden spots were plowed up. We saw a lot of above ground pools with the covers still on them. There were many treehouses and swingsets, BBQ grills and bicycles. I noticed Mobil gas stations with the flying horse logo, and busy downtowns, filled with donut shops, tire repair stores, hometown restaurants, and playgrounds. We passed by a field and I noticed a man standing in the field, looking the opposite direction, and not a car or another soul in sight.
Something else we noticed-the last car on the train developed a significant odor. I thought it smelled like a combination of diesel fuel and sewage, Rebekah thought it was pure raw sewage. The odor became stronger and stronger-and finally, when we saw our car attendant, we asked her about it! "You're right!" she agreed enthusiastically. "This car DOES smell!" She said it was worse in our car than in the rest of the train. She came back a few minutes later with some Febreeze and an air freshener, but the stench overpowered it quickly. It was nauseating. End of the story-she offered to move us to the car ahead, and we quickly took her up on her offer. Leaving the stinky, swaying, last car in the train, we were seated in another coach car, and immediately, our spirits improved. It was wonderful! We tipped her generously for helping us out.
The time went by quickly, and the landscape changed-we were nearing Chicago, and instead of yards, playgrounds, and farmland, we saw industrial smokestacks, office buildings, and substandard housing. The railyard at Chicago is enormous, and I thought of the guy who has to know where all the trains are all the time in order to direct traffic safely.
As we got in to Chicago, we realized that we were going to have to hoist our luggage DOWN all those steps, and a dread came over us. We steeled ourselves for the worst. As we pulled into the station, we put on our coats, gathered up our belongings and mentally prepared for what was ahead. We waited until most passengers had gone from our car, and retrieved our luggage. OOF! Down, OOF! Down a step and OOF! Painfully, we made our way down the steps. I was carrying Rebekah's shoulder bag, as well as my own shoulder bag and large suitcase, in order to give her two hands to drag her suitcases down the steps. As I made the first hairpin turn, I noticed a gentleman ahead of her offering to take her big suitcase, if she could take his small one. Gratefully, she gave exchanged bags. He helped her out, then helped me out. He was so gracious and we were so thankful!
Next: Chicago Union Station Adventures
Saturday, March 22, 2008
To Michigan on the Southwest Chief Installment 1
We started our journey at the train station in Newton, Kansas, population-a little more than 17,000 on the 2000 census. I thought perhaps besides my daughter and I, there might be 3 or 4 others waiting to board either the east or the west bound SWC. That was my first misconception, because upon arriving, we found the station was packed with people. It was Saturday, the 15th, first day of spring break, and young people were anxious to get started on trips away from school.
So, it was sit, sit, sit, in a crowded lobby, at 2:30 in the morning, and wait for the train. I've never really been good at taking trips, but I really got sort of nervous. When you are middle-aged, you begin thinking of all those things you might have forgotten-do you have the TICKETS?? Your medications??? Do you have EVERYTHING??? And the train, well, I've never done this before. I'm not young, ya know. I'm not as wowed by impulsive, exciting, adventurous opportunities as I once was, I'm more terrified by them.
The train pulls up, and out we all herd, like sheep, onto the platform. I'm hauling a large (but within Amtrak rules) suitcase on wheels and a shoulder bag. My daughter is hauling a little larger and heavier suitcase on wheels, another smaller suitcase on wheels, and a shoulder bag. Did I mention that Amtrak has no baggage service at Newton?
No baggage service. Key words when you are planning a trip. This means, you are on your own in carrying all your stuff with you, on the train. This means that you must navigate yourself, and all your stuff onboard the train. Lest you have any doubt, let me rephrase. This means that you will have no HELP from Amtrak staff in getting your stuff on the train.
The SWC is a "Superliner". Almost every car has two levels. When you ride coach, and your train originates from Los Angeles and has stopped at many points west of you before it gets to Newton, and when it's the first day of spring break, and when every seat is sold out on this run, there are no lower level seats.
No baggage service. Upper level seating. Middle aged woman with large, heavy suitcase. Younger woman with two heavy suitcases. I hopped up on the step stool, dragging my suitcase. From there, I stepped on the first train step. Stepped up and up and up, 3 more times, my suitcase dragging beside me, listening to my daughter struggle behind me. Stopped on the lower level and gazed at the baggage compartment, filled to overflowing with suitcases stuffed in there, like sardines in a can. Looked at the Amtrak man wearing a hat. His expression was unchanging. He pointed to the steps leading to the upper level.
I turned and saw a narrow stair case, not more than (I got out a yardstick to estimate) 24 inches wide. After the first three steps, the staircase made a sharp turn to the right. The steps were at least a foot high. At that point, I very much wanted to turn around and go home. I could not imagine how we were going to do this, but some things you do because you have to, you have no choice. So onto the first step I went, dragging my suitcase behind me. Also behind me is my daughter, voicing her disbelief and about a hundred other people, waiting on me to ascend.
Up, up, up. Three big steps. Hairpin turn to the right. 4 even bigger steps. Another hairpin turn to the right. 4 more steps. Grunting, straining, and almost in tears, I pulled my suitcase any way I could get it to go up, behind me, beside me, whatever, however, I could get it UP the steps. At the top, a very nice young man stood in the aisle and waited to get to his seat. When he saw me struggling, he took two steps down, and helped me haul it up the rest of the way. An Amtrak employee at the top of the staircase directed me to put it at the end of the car with some other luggage. The middle-eastern looking young man then helped my panicked daughter navigate the last steps with her suitcases. He ended up in the seat in front of us, and I profusely thanked him for his help.
We plopped down in our seats in the last coach car, panting, sweating, and amazed that we made it. We looked at each other. Well! We were off to a fine start!
So, it was sit, sit, sit, in a crowded lobby, at 2:30 in the morning, and wait for the train. I've never really been good at taking trips, but I really got sort of nervous. When you are middle-aged, you begin thinking of all those things you might have forgotten-do you have the TICKETS?? Your medications??? Do you have EVERYTHING??? And the train, well, I've never done this before. I'm not young, ya know. I'm not as wowed by impulsive, exciting, adventurous opportunities as I once was, I'm more terrified by them.
The train pulls up, and out we all herd, like sheep, onto the platform. I'm hauling a large (but within Amtrak rules) suitcase on wheels and a shoulder bag. My daughter is hauling a little larger and heavier suitcase on wheels, another smaller suitcase on wheels, and a shoulder bag. Did I mention that Amtrak has no baggage service at Newton?
No baggage service. Key words when you are planning a trip. This means, you are on your own in carrying all your stuff with you, on the train. This means that you must navigate yourself, and all your stuff onboard the train. Lest you have any doubt, let me rephrase. This means that you will have no HELP from Amtrak staff in getting your stuff on the train.
The SWC is a "Superliner". Almost every car has two levels. When you ride coach, and your train originates from Los Angeles and has stopped at many points west of you before it gets to Newton, and when it's the first day of spring break, and when every seat is sold out on this run, there are no lower level seats.
No baggage service. Upper level seating. Middle aged woman with large, heavy suitcase. Younger woman with two heavy suitcases. I hopped up on the step stool, dragging my suitcase. From there, I stepped on the first train step. Stepped up and up and up, 3 more times, my suitcase dragging beside me, listening to my daughter struggle behind me. Stopped on the lower level and gazed at the baggage compartment, filled to overflowing with suitcases stuffed in there, like sardines in a can. Looked at the Amtrak man wearing a hat. His expression was unchanging. He pointed to the steps leading to the upper level.
I turned and saw a narrow stair case, not more than (I got out a yardstick to estimate) 24 inches wide. After the first three steps, the staircase made a sharp turn to the right. The steps were at least a foot high. At that point, I very much wanted to turn around and go home. I could not imagine how we were going to do this, but some things you do because you have to, you have no choice. So onto the first step I went, dragging my suitcase behind me. Also behind me is my daughter, voicing her disbelief and about a hundred other people, waiting on me to ascend.
Up, up, up. Three big steps. Hairpin turn to the right. 4 even bigger steps. Another hairpin turn to the right. 4 more steps. Grunting, straining, and almost in tears, I pulled my suitcase any way I could get it to go up, behind me, beside me, whatever, however, I could get it UP the steps. At the top, a very nice young man stood in the aisle and waited to get to his seat. When he saw me struggling, he took two steps down, and helped me haul it up the rest of the way. An Amtrak employee at the top of the staircase directed me to put it at the end of the car with some other luggage. The middle-eastern looking young man then helped my panicked daughter navigate the last steps with her suitcases. He ended up in the seat in front of us, and I profusely thanked him for his help.
We plopped down in our seats in the last coach car, panting, sweating, and amazed that we made it. We looked at each other. Well! We were off to a fine start!
Friday, March 21, 2008
Train Trip
I'm back from spring break! My daughter and I took a trip via Amtrak to visit some relatives in Michigan. As I explained to a brother-when you take the train, it's not about getting there quickly.
We left early Saturday morning-about 3:30am. Caught the eastbound "Southwest Chief". Landed in Chicago 12 hours later about 3:15. At 6:00pm, we boarded the "Wolverine" and 4 hours later (5 if you count the time change) we disembarked in Jackson Michigan, and headed by car to my brother's home about 20 miles away. Five days later, coming home, it was the reverse-got on the Wolverine in Jackson at 9:00am, landed in Chicago at noon, caught the westbound Southwest Chief at 3:25, ended up in Newton around 4:30am and home by 5:00am.
Traveling by train is an interesting experience. My goal to write about this several times in the next few days, so I hope you check back for further commentary. I'm pretty tired this evening, and not thinking very clearly.
We left early Saturday morning-about 3:30am. Caught the eastbound "Southwest Chief". Landed in Chicago 12 hours later about 3:15. At 6:00pm, we boarded the "Wolverine" and 4 hours later (5 if you count the time change) we disembarked in Jackson Michigan, and headed by car to my brother's home about 20 miles away. Five days later, coming home, it was the reverse-got on the Wolverine in Jackson at 9:00am, landed in Chicago at noon, caught the westbound Southwest Chief at 3:25, ended up in Newton around 4:30am and home by 5:00am.
Traveling by train is an interesting experience. My goal to write about this several times in the next few days, so I hope you check back for further commentary. I'm pretty tired this evening, and not thinking very clearly.
Friday, March 07, 2008
I wish I'd written that...
So I got a wedding invitation in the mail yesterday. A homemade one, but it didn't look too bad. Until I read it.
"Mr. and Mrs. Stanley Snuffleopagus request the Honor of your Presents at the Marriage of their Daughter, Philomenia..."
I am not kidding. I have the invitation saved, in case any of you would like to review it.
Here's an email that was sent out:
"Please pass on to your employees:
The engineering staff has discovered a blockage in the pipes to drain the building restrooms. This is causing the pipes in the 2nd floor restroom to back up and drain into the SunTrust Bank. If possible, please refrain from using the restrooms unless it is an emergency. I will send another email when the problem has been corrected. I apologize for the incontinence."
And finally, from a church bulletin:
"Don't let worry kill you off-let the church help!"
Have a good day.
"Mr. and Mrs. Stanley Snuffleopagus request the Honor of your Presents at the Marriage of their Daughter, Philomenia..."
I am not kidding. I have the invitation saved, in case any of you would like to review it.
Here's an email that was sent out:
"Please pass on to your employees:
The engineering staff has discovered a blockage in the pipes to drain the building restrooms. This is causing the pipes in the 2nd floor restroom to back up and drain into the SunTrust Bank. If possible, please refrain from using the restrooms unless it is an emergency. I will send another email when the problem has been corrected. I apologize for the incontinence."
And finally, from a church bulletin:
"Don't let worry kill you off-let the church help!"
Have a good day.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Challenges
I looked back on this blog at January, February, and March 2007. And that's one reason I'm glad I have a blog. I was busy, busy, busy last year at this time. And feeling quite overwhelmed.
This year, I'm in a much better frame of mind. I don't have as many evaluations to do at either school. I know more about what I'm doing. I'm more comfortable with the process. I'm feeling a bit more organized. And best of all, I don't have the internship class to worry about, like I did all last year.
I do have a lot of things going on at both schools. One of the best things about my job is the chance I have to build relationships with kids. For example, there's a lost younger student I've been getting to know-I found out he would like to learn to play chess. Although I have an understanding of the game, I'd like to see an older boy, or perhaps a male teacher take this challenge on-and play chess with this little guy. That's going to be one of my goals this week.
More challenging events occuring the last couple of weeks include watching a couple of siblings taken into protective custody, waiting on a young student being evaluated for a possible tumor, two evaluations for possible mental retardation are in progress, and some observation and work with an emotionally disturbed preschooler continues. This job has a variety of responsibilities-and that's one thing I really enjoy. It certainly isn't the same old same old every day.
Next blog entry: Parents who are connected with their cell phones, but who don't have any words of greeting or encouragement for their children.
This year, I'm in a much better frame of mind. I don't have as many evaluations to do at either school. I know more about what I'm doing. I'm more comfortable with the process. I'm feeling a bit more organized. And best of all, I don't have the internship class to worry about, like I did all last year.
I do have a lot of things going on at both schools. One of the best things about my job is the chance I have to build relationships with kids. For example, there's a lost younger student I've been getting to know-I found out he would like to learn to play chess. Although I have an understanding of the game, I'd like to see an older boy, or perhaps a male teacher take this challenge on-and play chess with this little guy. That's going to be one of my goals this week.
More challenging events occuring the last couple of weeks include watching a couple of siblings taken into protective custody, waiting on a young student being evaluated for a possible tumor, two evaluations for possible mental retardation are in progress, and some observation and work with an emotionally disturbed preschooler continues. This job has a variety of responsibilities-and that's one thing I really enjoy. It certainly isn't the same old same old every day.
Next blog entry: Parents who are connected with their cell phones, but who don't have any words of greeting or encouragement for their children.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Dishwasher Wars
For all six of you people who read this blog, help me understand something. How can a grown man "with opposable thumbs" do the following?
We have a portable dishwasher in our kitchen. Not a built-in one, like 95% of the people in the United States, but a portable one. It's a good one-it heats the water up and does a pretty good job of cleaning the dishes. It even has a built in disposer, should you put really dirty dishes in there.
To operate the dishwasher, you roll it out from the corner to the sink, you hook up the water hose to the faucet, and you plug it in. Then you push buttons, and voila! You're done!
You're done until the dishwasher has completed its cycle. Then, you unhook the hose and drain it into the sink, you unplug the electrical cord, you snake both of those lines back into the dishwasher and you roll it back in the corner. Voila! You're done!
I run the dishwasher in the evenings at bedtime. When the Husband comes home from his second job, it's done with its cycle. Husband gets a snack in the kitchen, and dutifully unplugs the cord and unhooks the hose. Snakes them both into the dishwasher. Voila! He's done!
What? That's right folks, you read it here first. He does not, ever, roll the dishwasher back into the corner. He leaves it sitting there in the kitchen, not unlike Ray Barone, who left his suitcase on the stairs in that famous episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond".
I determined today, as the oatmeal was cooking, that if he was gonna unplug and unhook it, he could take 10 seconds to roll it back into place and I wasn't going to. Amen. So, it's sitting out there. If you come to over to my house to dinner, watch where you walk. It'll be right in front of you as you go into the kitchen.
We have a portable dishwasher in our kitchen. Not a built-in one, like 95% of the people in the United States, but a portable one. It's a good one-it heats the water up and does a pretty good job of cleaning the dishes. It even has a built in disposer, should you put really dirty dishes in there.
To operate the dishwasher, you roll it out from the corner to the sink, you hook up the water hose to the faucet, and you plug it in. Then you push buttons, and voila! You're done!
You're done until the dishwasher has completed its cycle. Then, you unhook the hose and drain it into the sink, you unplug the electrical cord, you snake both of those lines back into the dishwasher and you roll it back in the corner. Voila! You're done!
I run the dishwasher in the evenings at bedtime. When the Husband comes home from his second job, it's done with its cycle. Husband gets a snack in the kitchen, and dutifully unplugs the cord and unhooks the hose. Snakes them both into the dishwasher. Voila! He's done!
What? That's right folks, you read it here first. He does not, ever, roll the dishwasher back into the corner. He leaves it sitting there in the kitchen, not unlike Ray Barone, who left his suitcase on the stairs in that famous episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond".
I determined today, as the oatmeal was cooking, that if he was gonna unplug and unhook it, he could take 10 seconds to roll it back into place and I wasn't going to. Amen. So, it's sitting out there. If you come to over to my house to dinner, watch where you walk. It'll be right in front of you as you go into the kitchen.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
If I only had a brain...
How's this for an advertising slogan for a sugar substitute: "Sweetness-the most important ingredient in life." This was on the new box of Splenda that I opened last week. Usually, I don't pay attention to these things, but I stood there and read it, and wondered if it was true. Who made this brash statement? Where is their research to back up this claim? Were there studies conducted? How do the authors of this statement know that it's true? And if it's not true, why is it on my box of Splenda? Did this statement actually convince someone to buy this particular sweetener? "Oh! Look honey! The Splenda people say that sweetness is the most important ingredient in life. We'd better get this rather than the Equal, or the Sweet 'N Low."
This is an opinion, period. However, it was stated as if it were fact. Now you know where I'm going with this. How many other things do we hear, or read, especially in these days of political contests, that are opinions, but presented as facts? And many of these things that are said or written have quite impressive research findings. In one of the first classes I ever took at WSU, the professor challenged us to read and listen to everything with a critical eye. One of our assignments was to find news stories which made statements such as, "Four out of five headache sufferers prefer Brand X", and to come up with plausible explanations or fallacies regarding the claims.
When political candidates debate, they all present "facts". A popular retort is, "That's what he/she says! Let me tell you the FACTS of the matter." And what I really have a hard time with, are those who, just because their candidate, or radio host, or CNN or FOX commentator SAID it, it has to be true! Same thing about "the oracle of all knowledge", the internet. "I read it on the Drudge Report! It's true!" I'm not necessarily saying it's not true. I'm saying, don't let people spoon-feed you pablum and tell you it's true. Try to find out for yourself. Our pastor said a couple of weeks ago, "I welcome your critical thoughts regarding anything I say in this pulpit. You check it out for yourself. You read, you research, you study. Know what you believe."
Of course, this is way too difficult for many people. The Joel Olsteens of the world will tell ya what you need to do in order to be happy, rich and prosperous. Go ahead. Follow along. Don't stop to think for yourself. He's the one getting richer and happier, not you. But don't let that deter you. It's much less work to just let someone else do the thinking for you.
This is an opinion, period. However, it was stated as if it were fact. Now you know where I'm going with this. How many other things do we hear, or read, especially in these days of political contests, that are opinions, but presented as facts? And many of these things that are said or written have quite impressive research findings. In one of the first classes I ever took at WSU, the professor challenged us to read and listen to everything with a critical eye. One of our assignments was to find news stories which made statements such as, "Four out of five headache sufferers prefer Brand X", and to come up with plausible explanations or fallacies regarding the claims.
When political candidates debate, they all present "facts". A popular retort is, "That's what he/she says! Let me tell you the FACTS of the matter." And what I really have a hard time with, are those who, just because their candidate, or radio host, or CNN or FOX commentator SAID it, it has to be true! Same thing about "the oracle of all knowledge", the internet. "I read it on the Drudge Report! It's true!" I'm not necessarily saying it's not true. I'm saying, don't let people spoon-feed you pablum and tell you it's true. Try to find out for yourself. Our pastor said a couple of weeks ago, "I welcome your critical thoughts regarding anything I say in this pulpit. You check it out for yourself. You read, you research, you study. Know what you believe."
Of course, this is way too difficult for many people. The Joel Olsteens of the world will tell ya what you need to do in order to be happy, rich and prosperous. Go ahead. Follow along. Don't stop to think for yourself. He's the one getting richer and happier, not you. But don't let that deter you. It's much less work to just let someone else do the thinking for you.
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