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Tuesday, 09/13/2005 Entry: "Ketchup 8/14/2005 - Trip To"

Ketchup 8/14/2005 - Trip To

They buckled. They caved. After successful training sessions by phone, they agreed to send me to the Kansas City office by train...

On the east coast Amtrak trains, there is an outlet beneath every window. Clearly half of the riders took advantage of this, with laptops and DVD players everywhere. It's likely that several were going off to college.

Everything started off okay. We arrived and left stations to the minute. We were past Albany, where we were allowed to get out and stretch while baggage was unloaded and loaded (they call these "smoking stops").

Over the course of the evening, I got to know my "roomate" who shared our seats. He was a photographer from Edgewater New Jersey, originally from Seoul Korea. He was planning to stay with friends in Chicago, then go on to Washington State via the Empire Builder. A row ahead and the aisle opposite was a tall Black man into old movies, and a very kind but tolerant. She was a good listener though, even if it was apparent (to me from where I sat) that she didn't know anywhere near as many old movies to keep up.


Viewliner coach car 25100 during "smoke stop"

We slowed down at some point and thought it was Rochester. Another hour and a half or so would be Buffalo. Then we'd head west...

...There are two routes Amtrak runs from NYC to Chicago. One first goes down to Washington D.C. and the other up to Buffalo. There is no direct route to Kansas City. The route I took runs daily nonstop to Chicago and is called the Lakeshore Limited...

...2AM. Most of my car was asleep. The lights in the car were dimmed. We rode through another thunderstorm. The windows were pitch black at night, save those moments when lightning revealed trees rushing by. My jacket had wet spots, suggesting that the window had a leak.

I managed to doze a little despite the streak of discomfort down my leg; I wonder why Amtrak thinks a slouched position is such a great thing?

At 3ish we pulled into a station. Buffalo at last! But when we pulled out, we passed a large building with "Kodak" in large neon. We were only in Rochester! An attendant muttered: "We won't be pulling in before four thirty. I wanted to go to a few yard sales..." Obviously that was her jumping off point.

After we left Buffalo at around 4:50ish, the day's prospects changed from "if I have enough time in Chicago" to "if I catch the connecting train..." We hit several slowdowns throughout the day since we were out of sync and had to yield to every scheduled passenger and freight train sharing our track.

On schedule, there would be a break in chicago from 9:30am to about 5pm CDT. At first I thought I could check out the Museum of Broadcasting there and watch some old archived shows, like the ones I saw there in the 1960's. Unfortunately they're closed for rennovations, so that was out.

That's when my quest turned to home. I had no idea we were so far from downtown, but I located it and found a method to get there by one bus and one El within an hour. If I had time left, I'd visit the Picasso (when I was there as a kid, a sculpture by Picasso was unveiled in a plaza. No one knew what it was, so we all called it "The Picasso"), then stock up on new food for the evening trip to KC.

Having frozen my 7-11 food, I didn't need to buy anything until breakfast the next morning. I had hoped to have it in Chicago, but that wasn't going to happen. There was no dining car, something which surprised me since this was a sleeper train. The Snack Bar dude was very sarcastic and sour. It was obvious he hated his job.

Sunrise saw the weather clear up. Ohio was very industrial from the state border into Cleveland where the tracks went. We got out there for a stretch. Uncannily well matched, my seat partner and I must have been the only ones in the group using cameras with film.


Browns Stadium in Cleveland at around 11:30am. We should have been here at 4:10am

Further west, the farms took over, and eventually a sign on a parallel road said: "Welcome to Indiana, crossroads of the nation."

The farmland was beautiful, but other than corn, the crops were unrecognizable. Maybe some were greens of some sort? At one point, there was a single reactor silo, with white smoke cascading down one side. The morning sun hit it in such a way that the thing glowed.

Our longest stop since the accident occurred around midday. We had entered an area where the train had to yield to a freight. A selection of the region's trees had webbing around branches of foliage. The Texan said these came from bagworms, and that where she came from the things didn't discriminate. There were what appeared to be milkweed growing wild by the side of the traclcs. There I had plenty of time to see nature in action:

The place was abundant with yellow, tigerstriped butterflies, with black tails on each wing (I want to say it is a viceroy). One hung upside-down from a flower like a tiger bell, just waiting. Soon another one arrived, and they crawled around the flower together. Another arrived and the second one initiated a dogfight. This happened a few times, with the newcomer being chased off. At one point a monarch flew lazily by, completely oblivious. After a while, the happy couple were scattered with the arrival of a small yellow bird with a black beak and black wingtips. With the butterflies gone, the bird eventually left. As you might have suspected, the butterflies came back shortly after.

In time we continued, but very slowly, prompting us to make jokes when noting how much faster the cars went on a parallel road. I said stuff like "hey that dog is outrunning us!"

In time we picked up the pace, and passengers wondered whether we were in Illinois yet. I said there was one more bit of terrain to cross...

I remember our departure in 1969 by car to New York once Mayflower had our stuff. I suppose I didn't remember it quite so extreme. Now the train passed through an endless landscape of behemoth factory structures, each belching thick, dark smoke. The sky was greyish yellow, and many of us covered our mouths and noses while INSIDE the train.

Once past Gary Indiana, we recognized the outskirts of Chicagoland. By the time we reached the trainyards, it was time for most of our connecting trains to leave. We learned which trains waited up for us, mine included. When we pulled in, our trip marked 24 and a half hours.

As we disembarked, a west rail type Superliner was parked on the platform opposite, sharing the platform. I wondered...

Since Ronald - the yakky man into old movies - and I were both bound for Kansas City, we decided to stick together for the rest of the trip. We watched out for eachothers' stuff while sitting in the terminal. Once the luggage was switched to connecting trains (about 45 minutes), it was time to queue up. We spoke with a woman headed for California as part of the "North American Railpass" deal. It required her to include a leg of her journey in Canada.

I'll give you one guess where the Southwest Chief was located...

The western trains have everything better: better snackbar fare for lower prices (the "cold fried chicken and cole slaw" tasted fresh), roomier chairs, higher ceilings, friendlier crew and staff. It's just weird they had coach on the second floor. All luggage and bathrooms were on the lower level.


Duplex Superliner coach car 31016 during a "smoke stop"

Oh yeah... the bathrooms... On the first train they became downright gagworthy beyond the scheduled time, and the phrase "ugly spinach" seemed to best describe the stench. The faucets had two temperatures: Hot and Scalding.

But I'll give them one thing: they had room! When you walked into a western train toilet and closed the door, that was it hitting your butt. Designed with no room to bend or wipe. So be sure to eat constipatedly before any rail trip.

The car ahead of ours had the Observation Lounge, where you could sit in swivel chairs and watch the view from a clear wall. Later once it got dark, they ran a movie - some stupid thing. Trust me: it isn't fun sitting in the next car during a movie. People walk in and out and the movie constantly blasts.

We arrived in Kansas City close to midnight. It is a loooong schlep with carryon to an elevator, then another long schlep to the terminal. It was closed, and we all waited while luggage was brought in and the baggage claim area opened.

Found a cab in pouring rain, who initially took me to the wrong hotel. Once checked in, a call for the foam pillow which was on the reservation, and suddenly not being constipated anymore.

At last! My leg aching from my aggravated herniated disk, it was 1am Central and time to get horizontal. The mattress had absolutely NO support! It was mush.

I hobbled out of bed the next morning and called the desk. They were puzzled, as allegedly they changed all the mattresses a few months ago. Riiiight.

Breakfast buffet downstairs. I tried this... this stuff. It looked like giblet gravy to put over the biscuits. Everyone had it on their plate like it was something special. I did the same beside my eggs and sausage. The stuff coagulated immediately and it tasted bland with pepper. Later on I was told by my Midwestern online friends that this was a delicacy, but that it should have had flavor to it if done right.

A couple of hours later some handymen came in with a HUGE slab of wood. When it was too big for the bed they disappeared out the door. Moments later the sound of a buzz saw could be heard down the hallway. I couldn't believe it. They came back in and slipped it beneath the matress. It was too narrow and so I would have to focus where to sleep for the rest of my stay.

Welcome to Kansas City

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