Thought I would make this its own post, although it also appears in my Soma thread.
Might I suggest a cross country train trip in lieu of the the golden Soma pills? I'm in the last hours of a 50+ hour train ride: that's not counting an overnight layover in Chicago, the BIG train city, due to a missed connection. I must be getting mellow in my age: even though this made me late for work ( I should be in a faculty workshop at this very minute), and there were a lot of hassles on the way, little of the problems really bothered me. I just went with it, figuring it would work out, and it did. I suspect hitting a mudslide in Denver is a pretty good natural disaster excuse.
Oh, so I took the California Zephyr from Emeryville (part of the SF/Berkeley/Oakland Bay area--it's the more suburban one full of the Targets, Home Depots, etc. that the rest of the Bay Area is too cool or ethnic for)...from Emeryville to Chicago, the full ride. This was unquestionably the best part of the trip. Then the Capital Unlimited from Chicago to D.C., only missing the part that goes to NYC. Then the Silver Star, down the East Coast, from D.C. to Tampa, missing the terminus of Miami. I love how the trains still have names, and even their corresponding numbers are low, unlike the airlines: our was 6, 30, and 91 respectively. Old fashioned and easy to remember. Probably the cheapest way to see the whole country there is, if you go Coach, like we did.
There was so much good on this trip to outweigh some of the minor bad. I'll get the bad out of the way first--in case anyone else is considering this romantic sounding (it is, though) journey. First, sleeping is probably the worst part. You have to sleep in your seats, like on a plane--but they are bigger, with better adjustments and footrests. The other passengers can be a pain during the sleep phase: we got two snorers, one worse than the other, some other various strange dudes. One train had this horrid squeak right above our heads. The first two trains had no WiFi, so I ate up my data plan on my cell phone taking pictures and movies, watching movies, texting and killing time. The last train, the Silver Star, claims to have WiFi, but it only kicked in halfway, and then my power source for charging went dead. The food situation is not great--sleepers get a package deal, but if you go coach like we did you have to pay for every meal, and they ain't cheap. The least expensive dinner was a very dry chicken breast succotash, and a starch--for 17.00. It went upward there to 26.00 for a steak dinner, 36.00 for steak and shrimp, the ultimate bougee meal. Joe and I only ate on the dinner car once--the rest of the time we made do with microwaved pizza, burgers and dogs from the cafe, which had a variety of convenience store stuff including booze. Later we got smart and brought our own food with us. The bathrooms are very much like on a plane, some bigger, though, no showers, and some with additional human smells. Bring your own drinking water source, too.
I got myself yelled at during lunch service in the dining car because it was my first hour on board, and I didn't yet know the layout of the train--I was looking for the cafe car which was on a lower level. I tried to go through the dining car and got the big freeze from the wait staff cos I didn't have a reservation. I explained what I was looking for and got sent in the other direction, only to meet Joe, who insisted what we were looking for was on the other side of the dining car. When he saw me coming again, this black host/waiter just went all sarcastic and starting talking like I wasn't there to hear," Well, I guess I just don't know what I'm talkin' about..", he said to no one. He was nicer later when we had a real reservation.
But, for someone like me, the crazy passengers, admittedly some who were trouble, are part of the charm of train-riding. First of all, you get to know them much better and for longer periods than on a plane--there's some sort of tradition of train friendliness that happens. I didn't get too involved since I had Joe with me and he doesn't go in for that sort of thing, but there was a lot to observe and pick up on in brief encounters. If you really want to see America, its real citizens, get on a train.
For example, the train staff, conductors (my great-grandpa was one, for the B&O, I think ) are so much more human and humane than airline staff. They run around actively troubleshooting everyone's problems, although they don't "wait" on you, like in the sky. They definitely don't seem so corporate, holding down a bunch of stupid rules to maintain the bottom line. Sue (see, I know her name! was one of those great, gruff, jolly old gals with a smoker's laugh, and a no nonsense attitude like a good, benevolent schoolteacher). She was sick the whole trip, but still went out of her way for so many passengers, just one of those salt-o-the earth types. The airlines should take note. She just had a common sense approach to things, rather than corporate rule following. For example, in the Eastern parts of rural Cali and western Nevada, as night came on, Joe snuck across the aisle to an empty seat to sleep more comfortably. We thought Sue hadn't noticed, but she had, she was just being compassionate. As dawn came and we were approaching a bigger city, with new arriving passengers, she quietly informed Joe he'd have to go back to his seat to make room for the new people, after the stop. Lovely way to handle that, and the same thing happened on the Silver Star in Florida.
We had two different Cafe ladies--the first one was a bored chubby tattooed millennial who raced through her train announcements in an almost indecipherable monotone, like a disengaged kid trying to get through his turn reading aloud as quickly as possible. She perked up for me when I gave her a 3 dollar tip for a drink. The second one was a real peach. She had this overweight middle aged drunk guy: two mornings in a row he was drinking beers and buying rounds for some black ladies, one who I think was a transvestite with the signature elaborate hairdo and scarf? They were treating the Cafe Car like it was their personal watering hole, and she cheerfully played bartender to them while simultaneously dealing with the long line of customers like me. Saw him this morning in the diner car at 9am with a full Corona in his hand surrounded by an entourage of new dark ladies yucking it up. To look at just a picture of him, you would have taken him for the most deeply red-necked, seed-cap wearing bigot, but here he was with his preferred company. The Cafe lady--this is on the Silver Star--was very nice and accommodating. She filled up Joe's big hiking water bottle to the brim with ice, and when I tried to buy a cup of two-dollar coffee, then told her sadly I had the option of my sad single dollar, a $20, or a credit card, she promptly transferred it to a slightly smaller complimentary cup, said, on the house, and I, in gratitude put my sad single in her tip box. She said, taken aback, "Oh, no, I didn't do it for that!" I said, "I know, that's why!"
After the mudslide fiasco, the whole train was treated to a free dinner of beef stew, mashed potatoes, rolls, drinks, and the ubiquitous succotash. It was better than the paid for meal.
Other characters: on the California Zephyr, we had a whole carful of Amish, of all ages. There was a whole family of blonde girls, plus their mother, dressed in identical eye-popping bright turquoise homemade dresses that made them stand out from the rest in dark and blue. They were the exception of travelers with no electronic devices at all--they all had worn books with them for entertainment--noticed one was the old-timey religious book Shepherd of the Hills. Some of the kids had coloring books, one lady was doing needlepoint. A big gang of them was playing cards, speaking some hybrid of German and English which I guess was Pennsylvania Dutch. They were laughing and having a fine old time, men and women together. Yet, when they talked to us "English", they easily slipped into almost unaccented American English. Some young Amish couple was sparking alone in the club car away from the others--his moustache-less beard less developed than the others'. I saw one middle aged Amish guy in the observation car deep in conversation with an Asian man--perhaps exchanging ideas about their thoughts on American culture. On the smoke break stops I noticed two Amish men would get out on the platform and light up. I thought maybe they had some home-grown tobacco with Roll-your-own papers, but no, they were smoking standard American cigarettes with the telltale brown filters.
In general, the train is where all sorts of ethnicities and races blend and go out out of their way to get along. I got nothing put politeness and sunny smiles from the African Americans on the Silver Star--the mix was about half, with some Hispanics thrown in. On the Capitol Ltd., Joe and I ate dinner with a man from Nigeria--we had a great conversation once we got passed the uncomfortable introductions. He told Joe he could see in his eyes how intelligent he was--how well he would do at Cyber Security. At another meal we sat with a Chicago suburban social worker and her deeply autistic son who "loved trains" and who was having some conversation with himself concerning mileage and other train minutiae.
There was one poor old black lady who spent the majority of the California Zephyr ride in the club Car with her head glued to the table, smothered in a colorful blanket. I thought she was sick: every time I went down there, even with hours passing, there she was in the same position. Several other passengers inquired thoughtfully about her health, which she brushed off politely. Finally, at one point she perked up, and started laughing uproariously at some thought: she was having the time of her life alone. This went on for more than 15 minutes! Joe and I were surprised to see her on the next train too, even with the layover. It seemed like the train staff knew her, and I wondered if she just spent the remainder of her life riding around on the train.
The other eccentrics: there's some young 20 something boy on here wearing charcoal colored touring shorts, an old fashioned long sleeved shirt with a string tie and a large scrimshaw etched bolo the size of a Victorian brooch, long soft chestnut hair and a Eastern European linen cap with a leather bill, like out of an old movie. Seemed like he was trying to look Dutch. Lots of weird and strange leathered boots on some men. A 40ish guy all in a black metal T who got on drunk at Reno, who called poor Sue a "Cougar he didn't need" out of earshot when she was just trying to be friendly and helpful , then proceeded to describe his pot-smoking escapades to two underage girls across the aisle who were too naive I suppose to recognize he was trouble in a silver bottle. I anticipated some big mess happening from him, but thankfully he fell asleep after 30 minutes of non-stop braggadocio, and got off two stops later. Another potential troublemaker went up and down the cars during the mudslide (we got stopped for 5 hours because of a hail induced mudslide outside of Denver in those clay canyons, and no one was allowed to get off because "FTA regs") : seemed like he was trying to strike up a rebellion to get the conductor to go further backwards to civilization where we could get off--I suspect he was one of the smokers.
Contrasting black and white cowboys ( not by hats, but by skin color)--one looked pure African. The white, long-haired and carefully dressed cowboy looked like a magazine cover, and seemed to be a bit of a ladies man--quite flirtatious. A 250+ lb young girl with a baby who was an unfortunately very untalented mother. She seemed self-conscious about having a potentially squalling baby on such a long trip. The baby was pretty good really, sleeping most of the way, but every time she made the slightest whine this inexperienced mother just yelled at her to be quiet. Other passengers were giving her tips to keep the baby (under one yrs. old I'm guessing--I never actually saw it, but it wasn't even babbling yet, let alone talking) happy, like taking her to the observation car to look out the window, to keep her from being bored, but the young mother was disinclined. She herself seemed unimpressed with the dramatic landscapes rolling by out the window. Maybe she had troubles on her mind.
Then there was the guy in front of us, all night, on the Capitol Ltd. First of all, he was a twitchy mess. The guy sitting with him would talk to him in English, which he seemed to understand, but then he answered in some strange language I could not discern--he looked European, dressed like a red neck American in a red t-shirt and Jorts. When he got on at 6:40 pm he immediately jammed (and I mean jammed!) his seat down into the sleeping position and left it that way the whole trip, bouncing my laptop, meals, etc. off my tray in a precarious way, talking to himself in this odd language every time he tossed and turned every ten minutes or so. Once it got dark, though, he did this really crazy thing--he whipped out one of those aluminum foil looking space blankets and covered himself in it.. this just upped his annoying factor by tenfold since this blanket made loud, crinkly noises every time he turned or moved, which was a lot. I spent the night thinking I was hearing an open mike with wind blowing across it in a blustery place, say, SF or Chicago down by the lake. I thought he was snoring, too, but it turned out to be the weird pink haired girl on the other side, who later was yelling, "WHAT?!" into her phone every 2 minutes. Give it a rest, sis. Later, I figured out on my Amazon Music on my phone that I had these long recordings of Nature Sounds..I put on the Ocean one in repeat mode and slept pretty decently. Poor Joe did not, plus he seemed to have gotten a bug from someone on the train.
Would I do this again, in coach? I'd prefer a sleeper. and I'm pretty sure I'm going to consider this complete route a once in s lifetime experience that I'm glad I did. For others, just guess it's a matter of how adventurous you are, how willing to put up with discomfort. Young people, sure, should do it, for the price and all you get to see. I think I just probably hit the outer most reaches of the age where I can deal with this, especially with my stomach.
