I didn’t know trains could be 4 hours late. But apparently they can. Over the 2 days I spent on my first train trip, we added 4 hours to our travel time. Something about having to wait during the night for freight trains to pass so we could use the track. Other rumors flew about suggesting recent derailments and subsequent repairs. Another suggested that the recent expanding oil drilling in N Dakota requires more freight trains. At any rate, my train arrived in Chicago late.
We found out Thursday evening that it would be late. So I started thinking of alternative plans in case I missed my connection to Jackson, MI. it is hard to coordinate a plan with no internet and few areas of cell coverage. So my family basically took over and arranged for me to stay with my “little” cousin Russell in Chicago area. Amtrak had arranged to send people on buses to their destinations along the train routes. That meant I would get into Jackson at 2:30 am. I opted to stay the night in Chicago and catch the next train. I caught Jemie as she was leaving to pick me up at the station and told her I would be coming in the next day at lunchtime.
I like my cousin. He introduced me to his click; I stayed with the female portion in their apartment. It’s a bit odd being in a college group again. Even odder hanging out with a group of fun-loving kids who aren’t old enough to drink. A fun bunch none the less.
The next morning the train to get back to union station left at 6am. So I got up and walked down to the little station with Russell. And there we sat. Suddenly Russell gets up to check something. Its Saturday. The train doesn’t come at 6am on Saturdays. …ok. Back to the computer for other options. Try to call a cab. That wont get me to the station in time either. Awesome. Plan C; wake up roomie with a car and possibly still not get there, or… go have breakfast and catch the next train. We had breakfast at a wonderful little place where everything on the menu looked wonderful.
We walked around Chicago looking at architecture and exploring the park with its strange art structures. The creepiest one was a tall wall made of glass bricks. It had a face projected onto it making faces at the identical wall across the square. Creepy. I cant even describe the other art things they had there. Chicago has beautiful architecture. In a city that has no natural beauty, something must make its residents proud to call it home. Chicago has chosen architecture to perform this function. Each building looks unique with its own theme. The sears’ building soars into the sky, a small city unto itself with several towers surrounding the core tower. However, my favorite building was actually the library. It may not be tall or expensive looking, but no less imposing. A huge cube of a building with tall windows. I think I might try to see old libraries from now on. Much more interesting than modern structural art.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
1st time on a train
Taking a train is not similar to taking a plane, and yet it is. The security is minimal so far as I have seen. (except for the green-uniformed border patrol guards who searched my train for illegal aliens. They actually found a few.) If you have the fortune of having two seats to yourself like I did, you end up with about 4 times as much room as a plane seat. They have the same little tray table things, but the seat backs recline much farther and they have a foot rest like a recliner. I am describing the coach seating of course. I have no idea what kind of accommodations the rooms have. Passengers may opt for a sit down meal at meal times, or just snack on food from the lounge car. They sell cheeseburgers and beer also.
I didn’t know if I would have internet on the train. I didn’t have internet. Once or twice I grabbed a wifi while we stopped at a station. Remember that we rarely stayed at a station for longer than 3 minutes. That sums up the internet. Cell coverage consisted of the areas around the towns or cities we passed. Spotty at best.
The most different part on a train is the smoke stops. Most of the stations the train stops long enough to exchange passengers. But sometimes the train stops for a longer time and the passengers may exit and get some fresh air, or some smoky air, whichever they prefer. Sometimes I miss smoking when I see others talking and smoking. The habit is a social habit primarily, consisting of built in ice-breakers and conversation topics. It elicits instant camaraderie among those “needing a smoke”.
Walking on a train takes effort and balance, much like walking on a boat. However, instead of the rolling of a boat in the water, this is the swaying of a large machine attached to rails. Sometimes you may hear some creaking as the train takes a harder turn than normal and a lot of wait shifts to the other side of the car. I finally got my train legs the second day.
I didn’t know if I would have internet on the train. I didn’t have internet. Once or twice I grabbed a wifi while we stopped at a station. Remember that we rarely stayed at a station for longer than 3 minutes. That sums up the internet. Cell coverage consisted of the areas around the towns or cities we passed. Spotty at best.
The most different part on a train is the smoke stops. Most of the stations the train stops long enough to exchange passengers. But sometimes the train stops for a longer time and the passengers may exit and get some fresh air, or some smoky air, whichever they prefer. Sometimes I miss smoking when I see others talking and smoking. The habit is a social habit primarily, consisting of built in ice-breakers and conversation topics. It elicits instant camaraderie among those “needing a smoke”.
Walking on a train takes effort and balance, much like walking on a boat. However, instead of the rolling of a boat in the water, this is the swaying of a large machine attached to rails. Sometimes you may hear some creaking as the train takes a harder turn than normal and a lot of wait shifts to the other side of the car. I finally got my train legs the second day.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
adventure before i actually leave
I have never ridden a train before. Little trains in eastern cities yes, but never for a long trip like this. It isn’t the same at all. I found out that I could buy a rail pass at Amtrak. So after asking various friends around the country if I could visit, I bought a rail pass. Do you have any idea how hard it is to mesh schedules with people all around the country? Its hard. I played the first segment by ear, but I realize I need to work out the kinks in the rest of my schedule asap.
And in keeping with my fast growing habit, I didn’t give myself much warning in leaving. That, and I wanted to visit my friend in the Portland hospital one more time. I figured out I should leave on Wednesday, on Sunday. So guess what I did? I laid out my stuff on Tuesday morning for my train trip, then drove down to Portland, saw my friend, stayed at a hostel, saw my friend again, then drove back up to seattle area the next morning. The plan was to stop at my parents’ house, finish packing, eat something, say goodbye, then drive up to the train in Everett. That was the plan.
What actually happened on my drive back up is this; my alternator bearings wore out. Driving near Tacoma, the little noise I had heard earlier got worse, and I started to smell a burning rubber smell. Never a good situation in a car. So I called dad to ask if he had any ideas as to what was wrong with my car. We decided that I would stop and take a closer look. So I pulled off at an exit and opened the hood. As I talked with dad about the car, I watched the smoke grow. I mentioned I had seen a car parts store across the freeway. I decided to drive over there (crossing my fingers that the car would actually make it), and replace the alternator. So I did. The majority of the time spent changing the alternator was the woman behind the counter looking for some tools I could borrow. The first time she disappeared to the back, she returned in about 5 mins with some sockets and a ratchet. Good, I grab them, run to the car, find the correct size socket, and try to attach the ratchet. Clink. Try again. Clink. Take off the socket and look at it. It’s a ¼ while the ratchet is a 3/8. Gah. So I go back in and explain to the woman who disappears into the back again, this time for 15 mins. I pace the front area, glaring at people staring at my greasy hands. Finally she returns with an all ¼ set. I rush back out and change the alternator, pay for the thing, return the tools and take off towards Bothell. Oh, and I hit rush hour traffic.
So I got home an hour before my train left. I ran in, washed greasy hands, changed, apologized and thanked mom and dad as they put baskets of my stuff into the car so I could pack on the way. I wouldn’t suggest this method for leaving on a 6-week journey, but I did make the train. There wasn’t any security at the train station to slow me. I even got to wave at my mom as the train pulled away. Awesome feeling.
And in keeping with my fast growing habit, I didn’t give myself much warning in leaving. That, and I wanted to visit my friend in the Portland hospital one more time. I figured out I should leave on Wednesday, on Sunday. So guess what I did? I laid out my stuff on Tuesday morning for my train trip, then drove down to Portland, saw my friend, stayed at a hostel, saw my friend again, then drove back up to seattle area the next morning. The plan was to stop at my parents’ house, finish packing, eat something, say goodbye, then drive up to the train in Everett. That was the plan.
What actually happened on my drive back up is this; my alternator bearings wore out. Driving near Tacoma, the little noise I had heard earlier got worse, and I started to smell a burning rubber smell. Never a good situation in a car. So I called dad to ask if he had any ideas as to what was wrong with my car. We decided that I would stop and take a closer look. So I pulled off at an exit and opened the hood. As I talked with dad about the car, I watched the smoke grow. I mentioned I had seen a car parts store across the freeway. I decided to drive over there (crossing my fingers that the car would actually make it), and replace the alternator. So I did. The majority of the time spent changing the alternator was the woman behind the counter looking for some tools I could borrow. The first time she disappeared to the back, she returned in about 5 mins with some sockets and a ratchet. Good, I grab them, run to the car, find the correct size socket, and try to attach the ratchet. Clink. Try again. Clink. Take off the socket and look at it. It’s a ¼ while the ratchet is a 3/8. Gah. So I go back in and explain to the woman who disappears into the back again, this time for 15 mins. I pace the front area, glaring at people staring at my greasy hands. Finally she returns with an all ¼ set. I rush back out and change the alternator, pay for the thing, return the tools and take off towards Bothell. Oh, and I hit rush hour traffic.
So I got home an hour before my train left. I ran in, washed greasy hands, changed, apologized and thanked mom and dad as they put baskets of my stuff into the car so I could pack on the way. I wouldn’t suggest this method for leaving on a 6-week journey, but I did make the train. There wasn’t any security at the train station to slow me. I even got to wave at my mom as the train pulled away. Awesome feeling.
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