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