In which we look back a bit to one of Melanie's Adventures

For the gentle reader's amusement, a travelogue of a train trip I took out to San Francisco last April. I had been summoned to the home office to assist in the Client Support office for a week.

Denver

Got up at 5:00, in the car for the Mineral Light Rail Station by 6:45. I sat next to Evan for the trip to Union Station. The train was about 20 late; not too bad for Amtrak. I secured a seat with electricity, and decided to live with the view obstructed by the space between two windows. I don�t have a seatmate, so I can spread out a little. I went down to the snack bar for breakfast, an egg mcmuffin, and parked myself in the observation car for the trip up to Moffatt Tunnel. Saw a herd of about a dozen mule deer at the Coal Creek Canyon road, just before disappearing into the first of the tunnels in the Tunnel District.

Plainview CO

Joined in the observation car by a woman on a Colorado trip from Minnesota. I played tour-guide; she oohed and ahhed. She was grateful to the point of boasting about her personal tour guide to her friends. We talked about the scenery and Amtrak, and the administration which seems bent on making the rich richer, but won�t protect/promote the environment or a national rail system.
I returned to my seat before entering the Tunnel; the rules state that passengers cannot move between the cars when inside the tunnel. I passed out during the ten-minute ride and woke up in Winter Park, where I saw my tourist and her 6 friends depart the train for a day in Frasier.

Winter Park, CO

I�ve discovered that my seat doesn�t recline all the way. If I can keep both seats to myself for the night at least I can move my body over to the other seat, and possibly get a better night�s sleep. So far, so good.
I�ve also discovered that a three-year-old and his mother occupy the seats in front of me. Since I spent the ride to this point in the observation car, I wasn�t aware of this situation, or how much of an issue this might present. Besides, being the mother of a three-almost-four, I�m thinking that he�s not really able to perturb me very much.
They stepped off the train here for the few minutes that it took to de-train and board more passengers. He was screaming when they got back on. I thought he�d seen someone with ice cream and his mother wouldn�t let him have any � his verbal skills don�t approach Evan�s, so I wasn�t sure. It turns out that he really doesn�t want to be on this train. His cries devolved into that faked bawling that kids do when they�re trying to get Mom to change her mind about the candy in the grocery store. I recognized the tone. It means that Mom�s given in to him often enough that there�s enough of a chance that she might this time too. Being a normal squirmy kid, I can understand his frustration. I think that Mom should let him tour the train, and let him get some of it out of his system. But I see that she might not be very much up to it; I�ve noticed that�s she�s probably 6 or 7 months pregnant.
I did get some sleep in spite of his monkeying around. I heard a few admonitions from his mother (�She doesn�t want you looking at her� and �Please stop it, everyone�s sick of listening to you�) and the usual pre-schooler monologue. But I got some rest.

State Bridge, CO

Lunchtime. Lots of boaters in the Colorado River. We got mooned. I was dining with a couple from Boulder who were on their way to Glenwood Springs for the weekend. It was her birthday present. Lucky girl. The fourth at the table was an elderly British gentleman � not English, but maybe Scot or Irish; his accent was thick. He was on his first holiday in years, he said, traveling through the western hemisphere. He�d spent three days in Chicago, was on his way to San Francisco, and then to Argentina by train. His cousins both live in the southern hemisphere, he said; one in Argentina, and one in Australia. I was a little embarrassed by the locals� behavior, but he cheerfully attributed it to college students. We chatted about the geology; Fountain Formation sandstone, gneiss, granite, limestone. He was interested in the wild life. We saw lots and lots of Canada geese, but not a lot else. Quite a few winter-killed ungulates; what appeared to be an elk and a couple of deer in the river. The birthday girl was grossed out.

West of Glenwood Springs

Third fire. I don�t know if they�re naturally-occurring or human-caused. The first two were before State Bridge. One had a hillside pretty thoroughly involved, and so does this one. The first one I saw actually appeared to be three small ones, and because they were narrow smoke columns, and proximate, I�m guessing that there�s a coal seam on fire up there.
I didn�t remember that the Colorado River valley broadens out west of Glenwood. I must have slept through this part the last time we came this far west on the train. And we don�t seem to take I-70 west of Glenwood; if we go west, we have taken less-traveled highways. It�s pretty. Broad and sunny, the valley seems to be well populated, and the train parallels the highway. The river is wide, but of course features wide boarders of tamarisk. I love the way it looks, but I see it everywhere and the enormity of the problem is apparent. Where there are breaks in the overgrowth, some cottonwoods remain, with their associated riparian ecosystem. But they sometimes seem few and far between.
Jayden and his mom stepped off the train at Glenwood Springs of course. He�s been crying ever sense. I can tell he�s sleepy, but of course, mom can�t get him to nap. It�s now been an hour since leaving the station, and he�s still at it. She�s been pretty patient up to now, but seems to be loosing it rapidly. People keep coming by and trying to talk to him, I suppose because they think if they can distract him, he�ll quiet down. I figure that when he does finally let go, he�ll sleep like the dead.

Palisade, CO

Jayden still cries. He�s making himself sick; a really miserable little boy. I�m not so much perturbed as feeling pretty sorry for him and mom. I�ve considered offering to spell her, but I�m unsure of the response. Sometimes the desperate noises he�s making to keep himself awake are pretty funny. Moms would understand. I�m struck at how different Evan would be under the circumstances. Oh sure, he�d resist sleeping, but wouldn�t be crying for an hour an a half straight. Of course, we�d be using different strategies with him. Nonetheless, Mom is still patient with Jayden.

Orchards! Here must be the source of Colorado�s famed fruit crop. There�s two large vineyards next to the tracks, and Pallisade looks like a pretty little town. Which reminds me that San Francisco is practically next door to one of the best wine-producing valleys in the world. And on the train I have the room to bring home a case and replenish my wine cellar.

Grand Junction, CO

Jayden passed out just before the stop. Blessed silence! I�m sure his mother�s relieved. I stepped off and made a quick walk up and down the train, got a Dr. Pepper, and returned to my seat. The weather is beautiful, warm, sunny, with a few clouds. It�d be a nice day to explore the town.
The old train station is abandoned, and a new station has been built alongside. A beautiful example of municipal architecture, the old station features egg-and-dart stone mouldings, stained and faceted glass round-topped windows, and other unique features. It looks like there has been a movement to preserve the building, but the new clay roofing tiles look like they�ve been on the same pallets for many, many months.
There�s a flier inside the new station about preserving rail service from the National Association of Railroad Passengers. The graphics show a dramatic decrease in rail service from 1967 to 1978, and the present. There are requests for letters not only to our senators and representatives but also to our local governments to preserve and expand rail service in the US. In some conversations that I�ve had today, I understand that the issue isn�t only funding, but also right-of-way. The freight companies � who own the right-of-way � are resistant to sharing right-of-way with passenger service. And I can see why. I can�t count the number of times we�ve stopped on a siding for a coal train to pass. The coal trains are not just numerous, but long; my Brit dining companion said that he�d counted over one hundred cars on two of the trains. I�ve not been able to count them. I keep loosing count.
Now that we�re on the western slope, perhaps the coal traffic will abate somewhat, since most of the Colorado coal comes from a mining district south and east of Grand Junction.

Colorado River Canyon, West of Fruita, CO

Ruby Canyon. Burgundy, pink, peach, and buff paint the sandstone and limestone walls of the Colorado�s canyon here, sculptured by wind and water. Soft concavities are punctuated with spires of stone and perched erratics. Vegetation grips the slopes and clings to rock falls. The wide Colorado flows next to the train, with only a ripple here and there to indicate the current. Canada goose and cranes are plentiful, and I even saw a wild turkey. Surely this is the gods� rock garden.
Yet, salt cedar and bare bottoms remain. (What compels people to drop their drawers when a passenger train goes by?)
The conductor has been great, posting interesting tidbits over the PA. I didn�t see it, but just now he pointed out the demarcation between Colorado and Utah, so I guess we�ve crossed the line.

Eastern Utah
The Wasatch Range has just come into view. Snowcapped and broader than the Colorado Rockies, they still tower over the desert.

46 miles west of Fruita, CO

The rails continue to run along I-70. Had dinner with a British couple, and we shared garden and orchid stories. It seems that buttercups are as hated in England as my thistles. A pair of respectable beef medallions was the fare. A Series of Unfortunate Events was the first of the double-feature movies, and after dinner I watched what I guessed was the last half or so. I�ve generally found Jim Carrey to be repulsive in whatever he�s acted in, but for this role he was perfect. Just as I�d imagined Count Olaf.

Utah and Nevada

I�m considering trying to upgrade to a sleeper on the way back, when I�ve got a paycheck to do it with, since sleeping has proven a bit more of a challenge then I�d anticipated. I still have my two seats, and so I was able to move between them. I did catch some sleep, but was awakened frequently by stiffness, or the armrest indenting my ribcage. I�ve also had jumpy legs after gardening on Thursday and Friday, and this meant that I couldn�t relax in what should have been the most relaxing position � on my back, with the footrest up. I�ll catch more sleep later today, although the stretch after we get into California is the other spectacular bit of scenery on this route.
My seat with power has come with another drawback � it�s parallel with the staircase to the lower level, which is illuminated all night. I of course awake every time the train stops. I did see the Mormon Tabernacle in Salt Lake; it�s a beautiful bit of architecture, and brilliantly illuminated.

Battle Mountain, NV

I awoke at about 7:00 with the huge BM on the side of the hill outside my window. When Chris and I drove to California last May, we wondered what they were thinking. Why would they do that?
Battle Mountain is along I-80, and so now we�ve changed highways. Had breakfast before Winnemucca; the pancakes were good, as was the breakfast conversation.

Winnemucca, NV

The train is running about an hour late, I suppose partly due to the great number of coal trains that we waited on in the Rockies. They tend to make up time across the floor of the Great Basin. I notice that the trucks on the highway are keeping pace so I�d guess we�re about 70 mph at times. They also make up time by limiting stops to the amount of time necessary to de-train and board new passengers. I grabbed my coat and followed the smokers to catch what fresh air I could.
My coach car is close enough to the rear of the train that on left-hand turns, I get to see the engines. There are two, followed by a baggage car, and two sleepers. My walk this morning allowed me to survey the rest of the train. The dining car follows, and the sightseer car, and then my coach. There are two more coaches at the rear of the train. I hear that private cars sometimes hook up to the Zephyr, but the cost is considerable.
The Great Basin is beautiful in it�s own desolate sort of way. We still pass plenty of trains, but there�s space for twin tracks, and so we�re not waiting on freights any more. The weather is overcast and chilly; the peaks look to be either windy or snowing.

114 miles east of Reno, NV

Passing under some high peaks to the south, what must be the south barrier of the Great basin here. They�re not only white-capped, but they�re getting more snow. I-80 is maybe a seventy-five yards south of (and parallel to) the rails. I�m sitting in the Sightseer car, reading old h-costume posts. I can hear Jayden protesting his confinement every time the door between the cars opens. Mom took him out to run during our brief Winnemucca stop; the bit of freedom seems to make the subsequent confinement less and less tolerable.

Reno, NV

I thought I�d missed it. The rails follow the Truckee River through a canyon, which seems to open up into a wide valley. I though I remembered Reno, and then the canyon, but there�s more canyon above, too. A lot of people got on, and I lost my spare seat. It seems that folks take the train up from Sacramento or San Francisco for the weekend in Reno.
A volunteer from the train museum on Sacramento has boarded, and has promised to provide us with historical details of the route over Donner Pass. The weather is sunny, and the tops of the Sierras are snowcapped.

Truckee, NV

Lots of snow on the ground, and the skies are overcast. It�s lunchtime in Denver, but since we�re in California, the dining car is waiting to serve until noon local time. I gave up, and ordered a bratwurst and chips from the snack bar. I really wanted that burger, though. I�ll bet the pub at the hotel has good burgers.
In stark contrast to the Colorado river, the Truckee is crystal clear. I�d expect that; it is outflow from Lake Tahoe. It�s said to be unusual in that it doesn�t flow into the ocean. It drains into Lake Victoria in the Great Basin, where I suppose it dries up.

Donner Pass, CA

Up at 7000 feet, the snow is flying. Lots of snow on the ground, and one of the ski areas we�ve passed still has the ski lifts running. Beautiful scenery. I lingered in the sightseeing car until I got sleepy. I�m going to try to get some rest.

Sacramento, CA

The train stopped well before the station. And sat. Our promised twenty-minute layover dissolved. The lady sitting next to me complained about Jayden, and I defended him. After all it is a huge thing to expect a three-year-old to sit basically in one place for over two days. Yes, his mother should have given him supervised run of the train. Yes, she should have let him sit in the dining car rather than always eating at their seat. All things considered, he did as well as could be expected. There is a new little child � maybe almost three � and her mom and dad walk up and down the aisles with her. Not surprisingly, she�s a lot happier. At least until he mom told her she couldn�t sit on the steps.
Again, I�m struck at the lushness of the California landscape. The tracks were lined with lupines in the Sierra�s foothills. I�m thinking that I should be calling Bera, but the phone is dead, and of course I made it away without a charger. I�ll have to remedy that this evening.

Davis, CA

Jayden and his mom de-trained at Sacramento. The complaining lady next to me has de-trained here. I have my nest back. It�s 4:40; the timetable shows that we are now two hours behind. This puts me into San Francisco at about 8:00 tonight. It looks like I�ll be dining aboard the train tonight.

Martinez, CA

We�ve just passed through one of the largest and richest marshlands that I�ve ever seen. Lots and lots of birds, and the buildings are almost all built on stilts. So flooding must occur. Ducks occupy the open water, walking in the shallows, or with heads under the surface. Lots of large white birds that I think are egrets. A larger sandhill crane, even a pheasant. Larger white birds with black wing tips, and far out in the marsh, large groups of other white birds that appear to be swans. Many small songbirds, too.

We are crossing what I believe is Suisun Bay, and the conductor tells me that it�s 40 minutes to Emeryville. I guess we made up some time from Sacramento. It�s now 5:22, so my estimation of 8:00 should be revised to 7:00. The train is now virtually empty. The tracks have been double all through California, which has eliminated the repeated extended waits on sidings in the Rockies. The clouds are closing in, though. I hope I don�t have to walk to the hotel in the rain.

Crockett, CA

Passing under the bridge which carries I-80 over Suisun Bay. Considering the proximity of the marches to Suisun bay, I wonder if those weren�t salt marxhes,a nd the buildings up on stilts due to the tide. We are hugging the north coast of the bay, and I expect to turn left and see the Golden Gate at any moment. In a few minutes, I�ll need to pack up my nest. But for now, I�m affixed to the window viewing the shoreline. I�m now spotting sea birds; cormorants, sandpipers and gulls. And lots of low bushes or groundcover with brilliant pink or red flowers. There�s Mount Tam, which slopes down to the Golden Gate on the south. So, a couple more turns to the left?
Canada goose, red-winged blackbird
People seem to fish a lot in the bay, either off the shore or off piers.
Well, it�s about ten minutes from our destination. Time to close up and pack.