… and back!
I decided last minute to take a train to Chicago, walk around for a bit, watch a Cubs game, and then come back the same way.
Why?
Well, I had never been on a long train ride, overnight and scenic, especially in the U.S. I had been on trains in New Zealand and Australia, in Europe, along the U.S. Eastern Seaboard, and in China. Some of them were scenic, some were very fast, one went under the English Channel, but mostly they were purpose-built trains, the purpose being commuting.
Also, I had never been to a baseball game at Wrigley Park in Chicago. For those of you who don’t follow baseball, Wrigley Park is one of few old ballparks remaining. Like Fenway in Boston, Wrigley has gone through renovations, but the layout of the surrounding neighborhood prevents too much change. Also, again for those who need help with baseball lore, Wrigley has a special outfield. Instead of cushy matting for outfielders smacking into the wall, at Wrigley the outfield wall is brick covered in ivy. Smacking into the wall at Wrigley is, well, unique. Also, balls get lost in the ivy. They have a set of rules for that.
And I wanted to get a feel for Amtrak. I have more time nowadays, so some trips that I think of as airplane trips might lend themselves to a train trip, if the trip by train is fun. Another factor: Trains pollute less than airplanes.
Lastly, I simply wanted to get away from the apartment for a little while, and for me it is too hot around here for backpacking right now.
So I found myself at Union Station in Portland with tickets to Union Station in Chicago. My data-set of exactly two examples leads me to conclude that if you want to create a railroad station in the Amtrak system, the correct name for your station is “Union Station”. I said this to someone on board, and they asked the legitimate question, “Even in the South?” I am too lazy to look it up.
Union Station in Portland is downtown. Usually the main train station is downtown. This is significantly different from airports, for obvious reasons. But I like it that I started my trip from downtown Portland. Union Station in Portland is an older place, wooden benches like church pews, ornate tall ceilings, a great feel.
For those of us used to air travel, there’s a noticeable lack of security. There is also a noticeable lack of guidance. The security part was refreshing. We just walked up and got on board. The guidance was less refreshing, especially since I was a first-timer. Thinking about it a little while later, at an airport there’s not as much guidance as we might think. We are just more familiar with airports, at least I am, so I know to check in, go through TSA, find the gate, etc. etc. At Portland’s Union Station you really just hang out within hearing distance of a guy who comes to the center of the station and, without electronic assistance, speaks loudly, announcing the next train, reminding passengers to check with the conductors who are now situated in front of the gates for that train. Those of you who regularly go through Penn Station in New York City are probably chuckling at this, rightly so. It is a touch more complex there.
Our train was late. I have no experience to suggest that this was usual or unusual, but I did learn during the extra waiting time that a truck jolted in front of the train while it was coming to a crossing near Portland. This created a space-time challenge (same space, same time, more than one piece of matter) the resolution of which caused a delay of a couple of hours and a release of heat. Nobody was seriously hurt except the truck which was sent to truck heaven with a story for its peers about how dumb some humans can be. The train had a scratch. When I saw the front of the train while walking to get on board, I could see that this train was no stranger to scratches.
On board, we settled in to our seats and we rolled away smoothly from Portland, across the Willamette, then the Columbia, and onward. This next picture is from the return trip but I thought I would show it now, to set the stage. Our seats were wide, with plenty of legroom, and with a couple of different footrests and lounging positions.
The train felt old, with lots of wear here and there, but not in a way that felt shabby. Just old. Everything worked, everything was plenty clean enough, and the seats were comfortable. Sleeping in them was not at all like sleeping in a bed, but was much easier than sleeping on a red-eye airplane coach flight.
To complete the picture of how I spent most of my time, next is a view of the observation car. It wasn’t a dome – it wasn’t higher than any other car – but it did have much bigger windows, and comfortable chairs looking outward. It also had a section with tables, where many groups played cards and some worked on their laptops. I spent perhaps a third of my daylight time in the observation car. I had some good conversations with people there.
While we were in the vicinity of Glacier Park, some rangers were aboard, in the observation car, with microphones and speakers, giving running commentary and engaging the people in the car. Stuff like “Does anybody know the story behind that mountain, how it came to have its name? Anybody? Well, let me tell you…”, and “Show of hands, how many of you have…” well … That’s not my cup of tea. I appreciate that they gave some good information, and that many people like that sort of thing. Anyway, I saw much of Glacier Park from the comfort of my seat. I did not consider that to be suffering.
The observation car had a downstairs cafe. That’s an interesting word for a place that served microwaved-in-the-plastic-wrapper fare along with coffee and expensive beer, wine, and alcohol. It was okay.
I didn’t take a picture, but the dining car was a regular-window car with, you guessed it, tables and chairs instead of seats. The food in the dining car was very good. It was crowded and busy most times.
Here’s the observation car.
We were a couple hours late, maybe two and a half, getting away from Portland. Amtrak does a good job of scheduling their long routes so that the most scenic parts are traversed in daytime. I felt a little sorry for the non-Oregonians on the train. Since we left late, we lost some of the Columbia River Gorge views to darkness. Here’s a snap from the observation car. There’s more glare than in some other photos because it is getting dark outside, and my camera is trying to capture the scene, but is allowing reflections from the inside lighting. Often the train tracks are right next to the water, north side of the river.
So that was the start, a short time in daylight, then on through eastern Washington and a bit of Idaho in the dark.
On the way out, I had two seats to myself for sleeping. Like a recliner sofa, there is a rest that comes out from the front of the seat, and it can help make the two seats into a small platform. I curled up on that and it was okay, but I didn’t get much sleep either night, to be honest.
On the way home, I had a partner in the seat next to me. I enjoyed our conversations much much more than I missed the extra seat. We covered so many topics and had a few good laughs. I had a delightful time. We ate meals together. But neither of us got what we would call a night’s sleep, either night.
Sleepers are available, but the price due to my late booking, and that it was prime season, was prohibitive. Summer is filled with families. Sleeper prices vary significantly, especially if one plans ahead. It would have been a $2000 addition to my $550 round-trip ticket for a sleeper on this particular trip. I can go a few nights with little sleep for that much money. In other seasons it is possible to get a sleeper for $400 additional, which might be worth considering. Buying a sleeper also gets you some perks, like a “free” breakfast, etc., which helps rationalize the cost.
Anyway, on the way out, we “woke up” in Idaho. “Waking up” implies sleeping, hence the quotes. This photo is just east of our stop at Sandpoint, Idaho.
All across Idaho and into Montana, the scenery was like this. This next photo is just east of our stop in Libby, Montana. Montana is a bit like Texas. It takes a whole day to cross Montana, more than 600 miles.
Population-wise, no contest. Crossing Texas you see a lot more people, more traffic, even though there are vast empty places. Scenery-wise, also no contest – in the other direction. Crossing Montana is a day full of awesome. I had brought all sorts of diversions, books to read, computer (no Wi-Fi on board) to write with, phone to use up mobile data on. For this day it was mostly me glued to the window.
The next photo is the stop in Whitefish, Montana. This was one of the larger stops in Montana, along with the stop at Glacier Park.
Many of the stations were extremely small, with just a “porch” for the station platform, really. Often, we had to make two stops at these places: One stop to transfer people from the front of the train, then we’d pull forward a bit, stop again, and deal with people in the back of the train. Our shortest stop was to pick up an Amtrak employee, and to let off nobody. It was a 15 second stop!
Only a third or less of the stops were of a length and in a place that allowed us to exit the train for a few minutes, take a tiny walk, stretch, have a smoke, etc. The conductors would give us advance warning for those stops. I’m not sure that this cross-country train ride is fun for smokers. There were a few who really used these stops to load up. And, on the way back from Chicago, we had a “smoking in the bathroom” incident in our car. We got a lecture from the conductor and a warning that this was a felony. That was a little hard to believe.
Like I already wrote, the scenery was amazing. Here are a few photos from the several hundred I took along the way. These are while going through Glacier Park, and then in eastern Montana as the mountains gave way to high prairie.
See the kayakers?
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Somewhere along the way here we crossed the Continental Divide at a mile high, give or take a yard.
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We spent the night finishing up eastern Montana, and crossing North Dakota. I got to see some of North Dakota in daylight on the return trip, and took some photos of the vast plains. I’m only going to write and show the outbound trip in this post – that’s enough to get a gist.
In the morning we arrived at St. Paul, Minnesota, had a longish stop, still only a half-hour or so. This was the first “big city” we came to after Portland.
Talking with the conductor, he said that they were trying to make up some lost time, but the attempt was more difficult than one might imagine. There are many freight trains on this route, and we give way to them. Amtrak is part of the government, so we are sort of “non-profit”, and don’t pay for the rail use. (Actually, this route loses money, while Amtrak on the East Coast makes money.) The freight trains pay the government a lot to roll on these rails, so they get preference. Our normal route is synchronized somewhat to avoid freight trains, and since we were late we were also out of sync. So, every so often we sat on the sidelines while a freighter rolled past.
At St. Paul we met the Mississippi River, and rolled along beside it for quite a ways across Minnesota.
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The Mississippi turned south, and there was no way to get to Chicago that way, so we crossed it and continued east.
After a short run down the western side of Lake Michigan, we could see Chicago in the near distance. We never were that near to the lake, though. No good views to be had there.
And then we were done! We came out into Chicago’s Union Station, which was about the same age as Portland’s, but much larger, much more ornate, and seemingly newly refurbished. It looked like new and I know that it isn’t new.
I’ll stop here. I might make a separate post about my short Chicago visit and the Cubs game. In case I don’t, here’s an extreme summary: Chicago downtown is fun. The Art Institute of Chicago is one of the best art museums I have visited. The Cubs beat the Reds 15-5, but the game wasn’t as close as the score might imply, ha, and I was happy to be wearing a Cubs hat.
The trip from Portland was all new to me. I was alone, and spent a lot of time taking photographs and a little time on my computer. The train shakes a bit, so using the computer for reading or watching video is okay, but attempting to type and to use a touch pad wasn’t effective. Others might think it’s fine, but I had difficulty.
The return trip was different. I had a seatmate for much of it, quite nice. The scenery was of course similar, but at different times of day. I took fewer photos.
I was happy to see downtown Portland as we crossed the Willamette, happy to get on MAX right outside of Union Station, and happy for a full night’s sleep in my own bed.
Would I do it again? Certainly. It was quite fun and relaxing and scenic. I now know enough to consider the train to Los Angeles or San Francisco, or even a train across the U.S. at some point. I also know a little bit better about what’s useful and not useful on board.
I’m considering some easy trips on the short Amtrak and Cascades routes up and down the Northwest coast. A couple in my building have taken the train from Portland to Seattle on a Saturday, watched a night Mariners game and a day game with a downtown hotel stay in between, then returned Sunday night. Everything they did was within walking distance of the station. A pretty good weekend if you are a Mariners fan, eh? And no I-5 traffic hassle. Important!
Next trip: Would I only do it again with a sleeper? No, but it depends on what is coming up after the trip. For each leg of this trip I was headed to either a hotel with a nice bed, or home, also with a nice bed, and with no responsibilities other than sightseeing. And, two night’s worth of not great sleep is not disabling for me. I know that it is for some. If I had to immediately do something important on arrival day, a sleeper might be more enticing.
