It's about 12:20 p.m. on Sunday, January 30, 2000, and I've
just arrived at Chicago Union Station, where I will be boarding
the California Zephyr on my way to Sacramento. I have just spent
a very enjoyable weekend with my cousins Debbie and Aaron, and
this morning Aaron drove me to the Edgebrook station, where I
caught the 11:38 a.m. Metra Fox Lake train to Chicago. As we
were waiting, a southbound train approached on the northbound
track. This turned out to be a southbound Amtrak Hiawatha
Service train, pushed by a 500-series engine and led by "cabbage
car" 90222. Finally, my train arrived 11 minutes late at 11:49
a.m. Since it was snowing, I assumed that the delay had
something to do with the snow. However, when the conductor came
by to sell me a ticket, he told me that the 11-minute delay
resulted entirely from the fact that our train had been stopped
by a red signal to permit another train to pass (although the
other train never showed up). There were three cars open on this
Metra train, and the car that I was in was rather full. Sunday
service on this line is provided every two hours, and it seems
that this weekend service is quite well patronized. We arrived
at Chicago Union Station at 12:14 p.m., ten minutes late, and I
promptly went over to the Metropolitan Lounge, where I checked in
and stored my luggage.
I took out my computer, signed online, and did some work. I
had thought of going to a museum where there was an interesting
exhibit, but by now there was little more than about two hours
left before I would be boarding my train. So I decided to stay
around the station. I ate two sandwiches that my cousin Debbie
had given me for lunch, and I also walked down a few blocks to a
Walgreen's, where I had hoped to purchase some spare AA batteries
for my scanner. I found that the store was closed on Sundays, so
I returned to the station, checked my messages, and got ready to
board the train.
About 2:50 p.m., while checking my e-mail messages for the
last time, I noticed a familiar face standing behind me in the
Metropolitan Lounge. It was Phil Copeland, a charter member of
the Amtrak Customer Advisory Committee, whom I had first met
several years ago on the Lake Shore Limited. Phil is blind, and
serves as a member of ACAC representing people with disabilities.
He, along with his wife, was on his way to a meeting of the ACAC,
to be held next weekend in Portland, Oregon. Today, he would be
boarding Train #3, the Southwest Chief, to go to Los Angeles. We
didn't have much time to talk, since the boarding of his train
was soon announced, but he mentioned to me that he had the entire
text of the Amtrak Reform Council report converted to a tape that
he could listen to (apparently, this can now be done
automatically by scanning the text!).
The boarding call for the California Zephyr was made about
3:10 p.m. I gathered my belongings and proceeded out the door of
the Metropolitan Lounge to Track 28, where our train was waiting.
The rear RoadRailer was right by the door, and we had to walk
down the entire length of the train to get to my sleeper. I used
this opportunity to record the consist as I was walking along,
and then boarded my sleeper, the first passenger car on the
train. After I stowed my belongings in my Room #3 in Car 0532,
Superliner sleeper #32105, named Oregon, I walked down to the
front of the train to complete my recording of the consist.
Today's California Zephyr is pulled by two Genesis P-42
engines, #99 and #58, and includes two baggage cars, a
transition/crew sleeper, two sleepers, a Superliner I Sightseer
Lounge car, a diner, a smoking coach, two regular coaches, six
express cars, another baggage car, and five RoadRailers. As you
can see, I had to walk down 19 car-lengths to get to my sleeper!
On the nearby Track 20, the Southwest Chief was preparing to
depart. Although it consisted only of eight cars, it was pulled
by four engines (three Genesis P-42s and one F-40). Presumably,
express cars would later be added in the yard, and that would
explain why four engines would be needed to pull the train over
Raton Pass. Although the Southwest Chief is scheduled to depart
15 minutes ahead of us, at 3:20 p.m., it was still in the station
when we departed four minutes late at 3:39 p.m.
Soon, my attendant, Rolf Smeby, came by to introduce
himself. He also collected my ticket, something that I don't
think I've ever seen an Amtrak attendant do. From what I
understand, Amtrak conductors are supposed to have the sole
responsibility for collecting tickets, but I don't see any good
reason why attendants in sleepers shouldn't be able to collect
tickets from the passengers in their car.
In my room, there was a small white bag with some
toiletries. There also was a card timetable, a special
commemorative folder prepared for the 50th anniversary of the
California Zephyr in 1999, and a xeroxed copy of the new,
abbreviated Route Guide for this train. Although it was nice
that some effort was made to provide this latter item, it looked
rather tacky, and the content of the new Route Guides is so
inadequate that they are virtually worthless. Incredibly, the
Route Guide doesn't say anything about the Moffat Tunnel, and it
refers only in passing to Donner Pass. (One wonders whether it
may have been prepared by Mercer as part of the unsuccessful
downsizing implemented by Amtrak several years ago!) Of course,
as is my standard practice, I had brought along a copy of the
original Route Guide for this train.
As was the case on the Capitol Limited, there was a supply
of soft drinks and orange juice available above the stairs in the
center of the sleeper, with the ice chest being located on this
train in the hallway. There was also a coffee urn, with hot
coffee available at all times.
I watched as we passed by the suburban communities along the
ex-CB&Q commuter line that we follow on our way out of Chicago.
Everything was covered with snow, which made for a very pretty
sight. I also had the scanner on, and I soon heard a message to
the dispatcher that we "might need the authorities here in
Naperville." There was apparently a problem in one of the
coaches where a man who did not have a ticket was acting "kind of
loony," wandering around and talking to himself. So the police
were requested to meet our train at the Naperville station.
Having heard this, I figured that we would be stopping at
the Naperville station for some time. So I walked back to the
first coach, and went down to the lower level. By this time, we
had already arrived at the station, and the particular person in
question had just stepped off the train and was walking away from
the station. When the police arrived, the attendant and the
conductor explained what had happened, and we were soon on our
way. But our stop in Naperville had lasted five minutes as a
result, and I had the opportunity to step off the train and take
a few pictures.
Before returning to my room, I walked through all three
coaches. The last coach, which was assigned to local passengers,
mostly going to Galesburg and Burlington, was almost completely
full. The other two coaches were about half empty, with a number
of vacant pairs of seats marked with a sign "reserved for
couples."
I returned to my room, where I found a card that had been
left for me by Betty Popa-Schuld, the On-Board Chief, who had
come by while I was gone. Now, I spent some time updating these
memoirs. I took a few video pictures of the passing scenery, but
it soon got dark out. We stopped briefly at Princeton at 5:27
p.m., and when we left a minute later, we were nine minutes late.
After again walking to the rear of the train, I returned to
my room for our stop at Galesburg. We were delayed slightly in
arriving at the station by a red signal, and our stop lasted for
seven minutes, partly because a large number of passengers were
detraining here, but also because the engineer had to obtain a
warrant from the dispatcher before we could proceed. Although
there would have been enough time to step off the train here, I
did not bother doing so. We departed Galesburg at 6:29 p.m., 17
minutes late.
An announcement was now made that everyone with a 6:30 p.m.
reservation should come to the dining car, so I proceeded there.
Unlike the situation on the Capitol Limited, where both sides of
the car were being used to serve passengers, tonight passengers
are seated on only one side of the car (although some crew
members ate their meals on the other side, which served for the
entire trip as a kind of crew lounge). One table has been
removed and replaced with a computer that is supposed to keep
track of inventory, but this computer system is not yet in
operation, and the computer has been covered with a tablecloth,
with silverware stored on top of it. That leaves only nine
tables on the side of the car that is being used, with a total
capacity of 36. Needless to say, virtually all of these seats
are being used for this dinner seating. The menus tonight were
just slips of paper. On my last trip on this trip (eastbound in
October), the menus had been inserted into a colorful binder
commemorating the 50th anniversary of the California Zephyr. But
the typographical errors I noticed then had still not been
corrected -- the menu still offered "vegetrian" stir fry "seved"
over a bed of rice.
I was seated opposite two men from Augusta, Maine, who were
traveling to Reno, Nevada for a sportsmen's convention. Although
they usually fly, they decided to take Amtrak on this trip for a
change of pace. Next to me was seated Aaron Hurd, a 17-year-old
high school student from Des Moines, Iowa. He, along with about
18 others from his class, had gone to Chicago for the weekend for
a field trip, visiting museums and other points of interest. We
had a very interesting conversation about various subjects, and I
promised to e-mail Aaron a copy of my story of the trip.
About 7:00 p.m., all of our meals arrived. I had fish for
dinner. Aaron ordered the vegetarian dish, and the other two men
ordered steak and fish, respectively. They seemed quite pleased
with their meals, and I enjoyed my meal, too.
We remained in the diner until about 7:30 p.m., watching as
we crossed the Mississippi River and arrived at the station in
Burlington, Iowa at 7:16 p.m. The stop here brought back
memories of my most recent westbound trip through here last June,
when our brakes overheated on the downgrade, a fire extinguisher
had to be used to put out the resulting fire, and we were delayed
for about half an hour as a result. But tonight, everything went
very smoothly, with the entire stop taking only three minutes,
despite the fact that two stops were made.
After dinner, I returned to my room. At our next stop, Mt.
Pleasant, where we arrived at 7:49 p.m., I observed a group of
about five cars and 12 people waiting for the train as we passed
by the station. I also noticed the agent pulling a baggage cart
that contained only one piece of luggage!
I walked to the back of the train again, where I said
goodbye to Aaron and his group, who would be detraining at
Ottumwa, the next stop. On the way back to my room, I noticed
that the dining car was pretty full for the 8:00 p.m. sitting,
but there were a few empty tables. The lounge car was dark and
almost completely deserted.
Rolf, our attendant, had mentioned to me that there would be
a family boarding at Ottumwa, our next stop, and I knew that our
stop would take some time, since there was the large high school
group that would be detraining here. So I decided to step off
the train at our sleeper to take some video pictures, and did so
when we arrived at 8:34 p.m. A woman with two young children
boarded our car, and Rolf went upstairs to show her the economy
bedroom that she had reserved. I took the liberty of picking up
the yellow footstool and closing the door. Our stop here lasted
for eight minutes, apparently because it had been suspected that
a journal on one of the baggage cars might be overheating. It
was checked out by the conductor, and when he reported that it
appeared to be okay, we departed. We were now only 13 minutes
late, having taken advantage of some of the make-up time built
into the schedule here.
Soon after we departed Ottumwa, the conductor came into our
car with a family that had upgraded their accommodations on the
train to two economy bedrooms. They had boarded the train at Mt.
Pleasant, and indicated to me that they while they hoped to
secure sleeping accommodations on the train, they waited until
boarding to do so, thus obtaining the accommodations at a
substantially lower price (Amtrak now gives a significant
discount when sleeping accommodations are purchased on board the
train, on a space-available basis, rather than being reserved in
advance.)
I remained in my room and spent nearly two hours reading the
84-page report of the Amtrak Reform Council, which had been
issued last week and which I had downloaded from the Internet and
printed out. It is certainly a very controversial document, with
two strong dissenting opinions (and one concurrence which seems
to call into question many of the report's basic assumptions).
Its ultimate impact upon Amtrak is far from clear, but the peace
and quiet of my room provided me with a good opportunity to
carefully review this document.
When I finished the report, we were approaching our next
stop, Creston. I walked back to the coaches, where I discovered
that a very large number of people had gotten off the train at
the last few stops. The last coach which, leaving Chicago, was
full of people going to Galesburg and Ottumwa, was now entirely
empty, and in fact had been closed off. The other two coaches
were also far from full, with only about 50 passengers in the two
cars combined. When we stopped at Creston at 10:46 p.m., only
two passengers got off and no one got on. The stop lasted for
four minutes, though, because the new engineer had to walk up to
the engine. Creston has never traditionally been a crew-change
location. However, now that Amtrak has negotiated a new
agreement with the unions which provides that a single engineer
may run trains if his time on duty does not exceed six hours, it
is taking steps to implement the savings that result from this
new work rule. As a result, changes of engineers occur more
frequently. The conductor explained to me that one engineer took
our train from Chicago to Ottumwa, another took over in Ottumwa
and worked to Creston, and now a third engineer would take our
train to Omaha. With the acquiescence of both the conductor and
the coach attendant, I stepped off the train very briefly during
our stop here. When we departed at 10:50 p.m., we were 28
minutes late. The conductor told me that we lost about nine
minutes due to the fact that we had to follow a freight train
into town.
Now I decided to spend some time sitting in the very
comfortable Superliner coach seats. There were plenty of empty
pairs of seats, especially in the first coach, so I sat down
there and spent some time reading William D. Middleton's new book
Landmarks on the Iron Road, including the pages that describe the
construction of the Moffat Tunnel, through which will be passing
tomorrow. Then I returned to my room, where I updated these
memoirs.
I decided to remain awake until we reached Omaha, since I
had never previously stepped out to see that station. In the
meantime, about 12:15 a.m., Rolf came by and started making the
beds in the room opposite me and in another room down the hall
that would be occupied by passengers boarding in Omaha. Since
Room #2 was still vacant, I suggested that I temporarily move to
that room while Rolf made my bed, and that is what I did.
At 12:39 a.m., we arrived at Omaha. I detrained and walked
down the long platform to the rear of the train, where the new
station is situated. It was quite cold out, with a defect
detector having previously announced the temperature to be 10
degrees. On the way to the station, I passed the beautiful old
Burlington station, now abandoned, which features granite columns
and brick arches. The new station is completely undistinguished,
of the square "Amshack" design popular in the 1970s and 1980s.
Since Omaha is an inspection and service stop, with the engine
refueled and all cars inspected here, I had the opportunity to
walk into the station, which was almost totally empty at this
point. I then reboarded at the first coach and returned to my
room. On the way, I stepped into the smoking room on the lower
level of the first coach. At this late hour, there were a number
of people still down there, and one passenger was playing a "boom
box," which was plugged into an outlet. This seemed quite
inconsiderate at this late hour, since the sound was audible
upstairs, especially when the door to the room was left open. (I
was subsequently informed that when the conductor became aware of
what was happening, he walked into the smoking room and requested
that the "boom box" be turned off.)
When I returned to my room, I noticed that the bed had been
made with my head facing backwards. This was undoubtedly done
because the main light switch control was at that end of the
room, but I like to sleep with my head facing forward. So I
moved the bedding around and, after updating these memoirs, I
climbed into bed.
Not only did we arrive in Omaha 19 minutes late, but our
station stop took significantly longer than the 20 minutes
scheduled. By about 1:15 a.m., I heard over the scanner that the
refueling and inspection of the train had been completed, but a
few minutes later I heard another message that the train cannot
move yet, since there was a problem loading mail. I remained
awake for the duration of our stop in Omaha, and we did not leave
until 2:06 a.m. We had spent one hour and 27 minutes at Omaha,
over an hour longer than we are scheduled to, and we were now an
hour and a half late. On the scanner, I heard that we were
delayed for 66 minutes in Omaha due to a bad order door on a mail
car.
Soon, I fell asleep, and I woke up about 3:30 a.m. We were
stopped at the station in Lincoln, Nebraska, our next stop. On
the scanner I heard that mail car #71198, the third express car
behind the passenger cars on the train, had developed a flat
wheel and would have to be set off the train. (I heard that the
flat spot was either 5 or 7 inches long, and the governing rule
is that any car with a flat spot greater than 4 inches must be
set out.) Of course, an unscheduled move of this type takes
quite some time. Permission had to be received from the
dispatcher to place the car on a side track at the station, and
several back-and-forth moves had to be made in order to spot the
car in the proper place, cut it off, and then recouple the train
together. I was really glad that I had my scanner with me, so I
was able to follow the progress of the various moves that we had
to make. We did not depart Lincoln until 4:24 a.m., having spent
an hour and nine minutes there, all but six minutes of which were
attributable to the necessity of setting off this car. We were
now 2 hours and 40 minutes late, virtually all of which was
attributable to problems with Amtrak's mail cars.
I fell asleep again, but woke up for the station stops at
Hastings (5:59 a.m.) and Holdrege (6:53 a.m.). Both of these
stops feature very attractive historic station buildings which
are open for use by Amtrak passengers (indeed, Hastings is a
manned Amtrak station). The Hastings station has a covered
canopy along the platform, but in Holdrege, there was no canopy,
and only a short strip of platform in front of the station was
cleared of snow. In each case, we made two stops, but even when
we departed Holdrege, it was still quite dark out.
Finally, I woke up for good just before 8:00 a.m., when we
arrived at McCook. We made only one brief stop here, to permit
two passengers to board. It was now light out, and I noticed
that, for the first time since we had left New York, there was
hardly any snow on the ground. I remained in bed for another few
minutes, then got up, made up my room for day occupancy, and went
down to take a shower.
Unlike the situation Thursday night on the Capitol Limited,
when I had to search for the attendant in order to find soap,
Rolf had stocked the shower with ample supplies of soap, bath
towels and washcloths. The water was so hot that I actually had
to adjust it to a slightly cooler temperature. My shower this
morning was truly delightful, and I was surprised that it seemed
that hardly anyone else in my car had taken a shower this
morning. (Rolf later confirmed my suspicion that comparatively
few sleeping car passengers bother to take a shower on board.)
I went back upstairs and got dressed. I tried to find my
watch, but it didn't seem to be anywhere in my room. So I went
back downstairs and looked again in the shower, but couldn't find
it there, either. After again searching my room, I returned to
the shower, and this time I found the watch buried under a large
stack of towels! I was glad that I managed to find the watch,
since I had used it for many years, and I certainly was not
looking forward to spending the rest of my train trip without a
watch!
Next, I walked back to the end of the train. On the way, I
met one of the conductors who had boarded the train last night in
Omaha. He explained to me that the delay in Omaha had resulted
from the fact that the doors to the mail cars had frozen, with
the result that it took a very long time to open these doors to
permit the loading of mail. He also mentioned that the crew had
been alerted to the flat wheel on the mail car by a passing
freight train. Noticing that this tall conductor reached almost
to the roof of the car, I jokingly asked whether there were any
height limitations on Amtrak conductors! He replied that he was
6' 4" and that the height of the upper level on Superliner cars
is 6' 5", so that he just about fit, but remarked that a fellow
conductor was 6' 6" tall!
The last coach on the train remained empty and closed off,
but the other two coaches were much fuller than they had been the
last time I walked through the train late last night. I counted
about 100 coach passengers in the two coaches that were open, and
almost every pair of seats was occupied by at least one
passenger. Then I returned to my room.
About 9:30 a.m. Central Time (or 8:30 a.m. Mountain Time),
and a last call for breakfast was made. So I proceeded to the
dining car, which was more than half empty by now. For
breakfast, I ordered orange juice, coffee, a bowl of Raisin Bran
and a fruit plate. Soon I was joined by a man who was traveling
from Omaha to Denver in coach. He lived near Denver, but had
traveled to Omaha to visit his mother who had just undergone
major heart surgery. I overheard a young man sitting at a nearby
table, who was traveling with his family in a sleeper, remark
that the breakfast that he was served was far better than he
expected, since he had expected nothing more than airline-style
food on the train. I also noticed the station at Akron,
Colorado, which still has an old Amtrak sign on the building,
even though Amtrak trains have not stopped here for many years.
We passed a number of feedlots and stockyards, and even saw a
herd of buffalo.
About 9:15 a.m. Mountain Time, I returned to my room, and
watched as we made a brief stop at Fort Morgan, Colorado at 9:22
a.m. There is a substantial brick-and-stucco station here, but
I'm not sure whether it is open for Amtrak passengers. I spent
most of the next hour in my room updating these memoirs. The
Rocky Mountains soon came into view in the distance as we began
to approach Denver.
As we got near the station, we went around a sharp curve
until we were facing north, and then, at 10:41 a.m., we began our
back-up move into Denver Union Station. Our move into the
station today was complicated by the fact that we had a very
large number of express cars at the rear of the train. When I
last took the westbound California Zephyr last June, we simply
backed into the station, cut off a few mail cars, then pulled
forward a short distance to our final stop. But this could not
be done today, because Denver is now a stub-end station, and
there would not be enough room to put all the passenger cars on
the platform if the express cars remained at the rear of the
train. So we had to back up, cut off the RoadRailers onto a side
track, move forward again, then back up onto the main station
track, uncouple another mail car, and finally pull ahead a short
distance. We made our final station stop at 11:06 a.m., two and
one-half hours late. As we pulled into the station, I noticed,
parked on the adjacent track, the Rio Grande Ski Train, with
three Amtrak F-40 engines in the lead.
I detrained and walked down to the station, then went
outside and walked around for a few minutes, trying to find a
convenience store where I could purchase some batteries for my
scanner. However, the area around Denver Union Station has now
become a "trendy" area, and I could not find any such store. So
I returned to the station, purchased the batteries at a gift
shop, checked my messages, and made a phone call. By this time,
it was about 11:30 a.m., and the final boarding call was made.
So I returned to the train and reboarded at my sleeper. We did
not depart until 11:47 a.m., having spent 41 minutes at the
station instead of the allotted 45 minutes. We were still just
about two and one-half hours late.
As we pulled out of the station, I noticed that another P-42
Genesis engine had been added in front. The conductor informed
me that this was engine #94, and that it had been added to
provide extra power for the climb over the Rocky Mountains.
(Interestingly, this engine had been on the California Zephyr
when I last took it from Denver to Chicago this past October.)
We were now beginning one of the most scenic parts of this
trip -- the steep climb up the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains
from Denver to the Moffat Tunnel. I decided to head for the
Sightseer Lounge, where this magnificent stretch of scenery could
best be seen. Although I had forgotten to copy the relevant
pages from the Rail Ventures book, I did bring along a copy of
the old, comprehensive Amtrak Route Guide, which contains a very
good description of the route. I also had my newly acquired copy
of SPV's Colorado & Utah atlas, which provided a very detailed
overview of the route. The lounge car soon became pretty full,
but it never filled up entirely. I watched as we went around the
Big Ten Curve and then snaked through about 30 tunnels until we
finally reached the Moffat Tunnel, an hour and 40 minutes after
we departed Denver. I was a little surprised that no
announcements of any points of interest were made over the
loudspeaker, even in the lounge car. From time to time, I took
some video pictures of the beautiful scenery.
Just prior to the Moffat Tunnel, an announcement was made
that passengers should not walk from car to car while we are
passing through the tunnel. I had expected such an announcement
to be made, and I remained in the lounge car for the entire
duration of our passage through the tunnel. But I observed three
persons disregard this announcement, including the On-Board Chief
and a dining car attendant, who went from the diner to the lounge
car, and a passenger who went from the lounge car to the next
coach. I did not smell any fumes coming in when these doors were
opened, though.
When we exited the Moffat Tunnel at 1:36 p.m., the last call
for lunch was announced, so I immediately proceeded to the dining
car. Since very few people chose to eat lunch so late, the car
was largely empty, and I had a table to myself.
The snow cover changed dramatically once we exited the west
portal of the Moffat Tunnel. Suddenly, the ground was covered
with at least a foot of snow. I guess this is why people from
Denver come out here to ski!
At 1:47 p.m., we reached the Winter Park station. A number
of people got off and on here, and the stop lasted for four
minutes. We then proceeded along the Fraser River until we
reached Granby, our next stop. The added snow cover made this
part of the trip a little special. We stopped very briefly at
Granby at 2:14 p.m., about which time I returned to my room and
updated these memoirs. As we descended from Moffat Tunnel, the
snow cover gradually diminished, and soon there was hardly any
snow on the ground.
I didn't spend all that much time in my room, since I knew
that we were soon approaching Gore Canyon, one of the scenic
highlights of the trip. So I went back to the Sightseer Lounge
car, but the car was nearly full. I therefore decided to go
instead to the first coach, which was almost completely empty.
By going back several cars, I got a much better view of the front
of the train. Gore Canyon was really magnificent, with the
Colorado River down below partially frozen, and chunks of ice
appearing in strange positions. We went through a number of
tunnels and, at 3:34 p.m., passed the eastbound California Zephyr
which, unlike our train, was only a few minutes late. Much of
Gore Canyon is inaccessible by road, so the train is the only way
to see it.
Up to this point, it had been sunny out all day, but now it
started to get cloudy. I remained in the coach until we passed
Bond, the point where the old Denver and Salt Lake Railway line
goes off to the right, while we follow the Dotsero Cut-Off --
built as late as 1934 -- which leads to Dotsero and a connection
with the original Denver & Rio Grande Western line to Salt Lake
City via Pueblo and Tennessee Pass. Then I returned to my room,
where I updated these memoirs while watching us proceed quietly
along the Colorado River. We crossed the river several times,
and I moved back and forth between my room and the now-vacant
Room #4 (whose occupants had boarded in Omaha and detrained in
Winter Park) so that I could view the river side of the tracks.
The scenery now wasn't quite as dramatic as it was during our
passage through Gore Canyon, but it was still very nice.
During the afternoon, Rolf came by with a basket containing
individually wrapped pieces of cheese and crackers. This was a
very nice touch, something that I've never seen before on an
Amtrak train.
At 4:45 p.m., we reached Dotsero, where we joined the old
Tennessee Pass line (now no longer a through route). Here we
passed a coal train that had two engines at each end, plus an
additional two engines in the middle. We were still running
along the Colorado River, but now, for the first time since we
left Denver, we began to parallel Interstate Route 70. In a few
minutes, we began our journey through the magnificent Glenwood
Canyon.
The design of Interstate 70 through Glenwood Canyon was one
of the most controversial sections of the Interstate highway
system. Glenwood Canyon is nothing short of spectacular, with
cliffs towering hundreds of feet on both sides. For many years,
it was the route of two-lane U.S. Route 6, but the widening of
this road into a four-lane Interstate highway threatened to
significantly diminish the beauty of this awesome canyon. After
much deliberation, it was determined to construct the eastbound
and westbound lanes on separate levels, to use a specially-
colored concrete that would blend with the color of the natural
rock, and to construct a bike path along the road. While not
entirely satisfactory in mitigating the impact of this very
heavily traveled road in this scenic canyon, the measures adopted
do significantly reduce its impact. The last time that I took
the train through this canyon, I felt that the highway had really
marred its beauty. This time, I was somewhat more awed by the
scenery, and found it more inspiring.
To best view this deep canyon, I went back to the Sightseer
Lounge car, which was largely empty. It was getting a little
dark and hazy, but you could still get some pretty good views.
The glass panels in the car's roof assisted you in getting a
glimpse of the top of cliffs, but this canyon -- like the others
that we passed through earlier in the day -- is far more
spectacular when viewed from a dome car. Nevertheless, I did
enjoy our journey through this canyon.
At 5:25 p.m., we stopped at the Glenwood Springs station.
It was our first stop in over three hours. Since a couple was
boarding our car here, I stepped off the train and walked back to
the coaches. It was snowing lightly out. Glenwood Springs has a
very attractive stone station, but I didn't have time to go
inside, since our stop lasted only four minutes -- just enough
time to load and unload baggage. I reboarded at the first coach,
and when we departed at 5:29 p.m., we were precisely two hours
and 15 minutes late.
Before walking back to my sleeper, I counted about 60 or 70
passengers in the two coaches that were open. Walking through
the diner, I noticed that only 16 people had taken advantage of
the 5:00 p.m. dinner sitting.
When I arrived at my car, I found that Room #4 opposite me
was now occupied by a very friendly couple from Auburn,
California who would be taking the train to Colfax (the nearest
stop). They had driven their daughter to Aspen, Colorado, where
their son ran a ski shop, and were now returning home. The
husband had previously ridden the original California Zephyr in
1957, and had fond memories of the trip. Since it was now
completely dark, I remained in my room, updated these memoirs,
and did a little reading.
At 6:30 p.m., a dinner call was made, and I proceeded to the
dining car for my meal. I was seated next to Fred, a postal
employee in Des Moines, who had boarded the train last night in
Iowa and was headed for Seattle via Emeryville. Some friends of
his had won an Amtrak trip for five people, and since they could
use only four of the tickets, they invited him to come along as
their guest. He mentioned to me that he intended to write a
story about the people he met on the trip, and we agreed to
exchange e-mail addresses so that we could send each other our
respective stories.
Opposite me sat two women, both going to Sacramento, but for
very different reasons. One woman lived in Sacramento, and was
returning from a visit to her family in Rochester, New York.
This was her first train trip, and she was very pleased with it,
commenting that the meals were excellent and that the coach seats
were comparable to first-class airline seats. The other woman
was coming from Wisconsin to attend the funeral of her 89-year-
old mother in California. She was taking the train because of
her fear of flying.
The two women ordered the fish selection, while Fred asked
for the chicken dinner. I also had chicken for dinner, and it
was very tasty. We had quite a lively conversation, and we
stayed in the diner until about 7:30 p.m.
In the meantime, at 7:07 p.m., we arrived at Grand Junction,
Colorado. This is a crew-change point, and the train stopped
here for 14 minutes. As was the case the last time I was here
six years ago, the historic station building is boarded up, and
an ugly concrete-block building just to the west serves as the
station. A kiosk selling fruit and drinks has been set up next
to the station, and many of the on-board crew went out to
purchase various items. A few passengers did so, too, but no
announcement was made that passengers could step off the train
here. I would have wanted to do so, but I was in the middle of
dinner, so I remained on the train. (Actually, there is
considerable make-up time built into the schedule between
Glenwood Springs and Grand Junction. I was not aware of this,
and had figured that we would arrive in Grand Junction after I
had already finished dinner.) When we left Grand Junction, we
were just under two hours late, having made up an additional 18
minutes since our last station stop.
After dinner, I returned to my room, rested for a while, and
then went back to the first coach, which was still very sparsely
populated. I sat down at an empty pair of seats and did some
reading. It was very quiet, and the attendant soon turned off
the main lights in the center aisle. At 9:03 p.m., we paused
briefly at Green River, Utah. No passengers were scheduled to
get on or off the train here, and after a few seconds, we were on
our way. It seems that we've made up a little more time, as we
are now only an hour and 50 minutes late.
I then went to the lower level of the lounge car and
purchased a cup of tea and a bag of potato chips. This is the
first time on this trip that I have bought anything in the lounge
car. A movie is being shown, but only a handful of people are
watching it. The lounge car on this train is a Superliner I car,
which features six comfortable tables on the lower level (on the
Superliner II lounge cars, there are only two normal tables --
one of which is often appropriated by the lounge car attendant --
with the other four tables being replaced with two awkward and
uncomfortable tables with inside-facing seats). I sat down at
one of the tables for a little while, then returned to my room.
Listening to the scanner, I heard that we would be stopping
at the ninth car for the stop at Helper. So I went back to that
car, the second coach, where the attendant and conductor were
standing in the vestibule on the lower level. They mentioned
that one passenger had stepped off the train at Grand Junction to
buy beer and failed to return before the train departed. (I
subsequently found out that another passenger had returned as the
train was pulling out, and a second stop was made so that he
could board the train.) We stopped at Helper, which features an
undistinguished modern brick station, at 10:25 p.m., and two
passengers boarded. I was able to step off the train briefly
during our short stop here.
I then went to the lounge car, where I started talking with
two young men, one who was traveling from Vermont for a reunion
with his father (whom he hadn't seen in five years) in Salt Lake
City, and the other of whom was on his way to San Francisco to
visit his sister. There were only handful of people in the upper
level of the lounge car at this point -- including one person who
had passed out and was lying on the floor. After a while, I
returned to my room and did a little reading. About 11:45 p.m.,
I decided to pull down the bed and go to sleep. I fell asleep
pretty quickly and slept through our stop in Provo.
About 1:30 a.m., as we were approaching Salt Lake City, I
woke up, and we pulled into the Salt Lake City station at 1:39
a.m. There is considerable make-up time in the schedule
approaching Salt Lake City, and we are now only an hour and eight
minutes late, having made up over 40 minutes since our stop in
Helper.
Until recently, Amtrak trains had used the old Rio Grande
station in Salt Lake City, a huge station near the downtown area.
The main hall of the station has been converted into a museum,
and Amtrak was relegated to a relatively small area at one end of
the station, but the facility was a relatively decent one.
However, the city apparently wanted the tracks in that area
removed for urban renewal. As a result, Amtrak has moved its
station to an Amshack that it built in a nearby deteriorated
area, surrounded by abandoned, boarded-up warehouses and vacant
lots. It is hardly a place one would like to be at 2:00 a.m.!
Supposedly, this is a temporary facility, but it will probably
last for several years at least. I didn't feel that I was
missing much by staying on board rather than getting out and
going inside the Amshack.
I fell asleep again and did not wake up until about 2:30
a.m., by which time we had already departed Salt Lake City. Then
I promptly fell asleep once more. This part of the route would
be new mileage for me, since I had never previously ridden Amtrak
west of Salt Lake City. I slept until about 4:00 a.m. By this
time, we were already in Nevada, and I changed my watch to
Pacific Standard Time. By listening to reports of the defect
detectors on my scanner, I was able to follow our progress along
the route, and I observed us go around a sharp curve just west of
the state line. I tried to fall asleep again, but I'm not sure
that I succeeded in getting much sleep.
At 5:42 a.m., we stopped briefly at Elko, where two
passengers got on. The station in Elko is a plastic Amshack,
reminiscent of the one on the route of the Capitol Limited in
Connellsville, Pa. It is located in a light industrial area
which, needless to say, is deserted at this hour in the morning.
We were now only an hour and 17 minutes late.
Finally, at 6:30 a.m., when the first call for breakfast was
made, I woke up for good. At this point, we were near Beowawe,
on the ex-SP route, which is paralleled closely here by the ex-WP
route. Since 1924, these two lines -- which were constructed by
different railroads at different times -- have been paired, with
the SP route used for westbound traffic, and the WP route for
eastbound traffic. (Of course, both railroads have now been
merged into the Union Pacific.) At times, the two lines are
adjacent to each other, but most often they are some distance
apart, and at times one is not visible from the other. The
scenery in this area is generally reminiscent of western Texas on
the Sunset Limited route -- with mountains visible in the
background, but with the immediate foreground consisting
primarily of flat sagebrush.
At about 7:00 a.m., I got out of bed, made up the room for
day occupancy, and went downstairs to take a shower. When we
approached the next station stop, Winnemucca, I went downstairs
in our car, where a couple detrained. They were the only two
people to get off the train here, and we paused only briefly at
7:57 a.m. The old yellow-painted frame station is no longer
used, and the only facility available for Amtrak passengers is a
small plastic bus shelter.
Now I went to the diner for breakfast, which turned out to
be one of the most interesting meals of the trip. I was seated
with three other men. David, sitting opposite me, was from
Ireland, and was here in America on a "holiday" (to use the
British term). He had made his Amtrak reservations on the
Internet, and was traveling from Boston to San Francisco. He had
taken the Lake Shore on Thursday night from Boston to Chicago,
the same night I went from Washington to Chicago on the Capitol
Limited. Since the sleeper on that leg of the trip was
prohibitively priced, he traveled instead by coach, and was
assigned to a car that was uncomfortably cold. Of course, the
train was about five hours late, arriving in Chicago about 4:30
p.m. He seemed to be enjoying this part of the trip much more,
and had brought along a copy of the book U.S.A. by Train, a book
published in England about train travel in the United States.
Next to him sat Tony, a police officer in Bakersfield,
California. He had driven with his sister to Salt Lake City,
helping her to move there, and now was returning home. He
mentioned that he had brought along a large trunk, but the
station agent in Salt Lake City had refused to check it, since he
got to the station less than 45 minutes before the train arrived.
So they had to put the trunk on the lower level of his sleeping
car. This was his first time on a sleeper, and he found it less
comfortable than he had expected, but overall seemed to be
enjoying the trip. Tony had a warm, outgoing personality, and we
all remarked how fortunate Bakersfield was in having him as a
police officer.
The last person occupying my table was Norman, a math
professor at the University of California at Berkeley. He was
also returning from Salt Lake City, where he had driven with
friends, but unlike the other three of us, was traveling in
coach. We had some very interesting conversations, mostly about
Amtrak travel, and remained in the dining car for over an hour,
until we were the last passengers still there.
After breakfast, I walked back to the end of the train. The
first coach was still quite empty, and there were no more than 50
passengers in the two coaches which were in service. In the rear
coach, one passenger, who at this early hour was already drinking
a can of beer, was visibly drunk. He claimed that some of his
belongings had been thrown in the garbage, and went down to the
lower level of the coach to reclaim some items from a large brown
paper bag used for trash. Then I returned to my room and updated
these memoirs. We passed through very bleak countryside, with
little evidence of habitation. For most of the way, we followed
a route parallel to but some distance away from Route 80. As we
approached Sparks, however, we began to run along the Truckee
River and closely parallel Route 80.
On the scanner, I heard a communication that no passengers
will be allowed off the train in Sparks. This was followed by an
announcement over the loudspeaker that the facilities at Sparks
belong to the Union Pacific Railroad, and that they have decided
not to allow any passengers not detraining here to get off the
train. Attendants were instructed not to allow anyone not
ticketed to Sparks to get off the train. I have never heard of
any such restriction imposed by a host railroad anywhere else,
and it seemed to be an example of UP's unfriendliness towards
Amtrak and passenger service. (The only parallel I can think of
is the Cardinal's stop at the Russell Yard for servicing. But,
unlike the situation there, Sparks is a passenger stop.)
However, Rolf explained to me that the station is adjacent to an
active yard, with a track used by freight trains situated between
the track we pulled in on and the station, and there was recently
an incident in which a passenger was almost hit by a passing
freight train. Thus, UP's attitude is, I guess, somewhat
understandable.
When we arrived at Sparks at 10:41 a.m., I took some
pictures of the attractive, yellow-painted station. Soon two
docents from the California Railroad Museum boarded our car, and
were assigned the family room downstairs for the duration of
their stay on the train. They would be broadcasting commentary
on the route from Reno to Sacramento -- one feature that was
entirely lacking up to now.
Besides the significant make-up time built into the schedule
between Winnemucca and Sparks, we only spent 12 minutes at
Sparks, rather than the scheduled 22 minutes. As a result, when
we departed Sparks at 10:53 a.m., we were only 31 minutes late.
Our next stop, Reno, is only three miles further along, and
we arrived there at 11:01 a.m. Reno features a classic station
with a large, high-ceiling waiting room. I stepped off the
train here and walked inside the station, then went back to the
first coach, where I reboarded the train. About 40 coach
passengers got on here, although, according to the attendant,
only three were supposed to board. John Vansack, the coach
attendant, had to handle the boarding of all these passengers by
himself, without any assistance from either of the conductors.
Fortunately, there were ample seats available for these boarding
passengers, especially in the first coach. Due to the close
proximity of several grade crossings in downtown Reno to the
station, the train blocks these crossings when stopped at the
station. The City of Reno has protested Union Pacific's plan to
increase freight traffic through the city, and there is a plan
being considered to construct underpasses. We spent five minutes
at the Reno station, and when we departed, we were just over half
an hour late.
We continued to run along the Truckee River, which was quite
beautiful. The commentary on the loudspeaker explained some very
interesting features of our route, including the wooden flumes
along the river that are used to supply water for electric
generation.
At 11:30 a.m., the first call for lunch was made. I went to
the dining car, and was seated next to a man traveling in coach
from Grand Junction, Colorado to Seattle, and opposite a couple
who were traveling in a sleeper from Chicago to Sacramento. For
lunch. I just had a salad and a soda. I didn't spend all that
much time in the diner for lunch, since I wanted to get ready for
the approaching scenery of Donner Pass.
At 12:10 p.m., we arrived at Truckee. There is a yellow-painted frame station here that has been converted to a visitor
center, but is obviously still available for waiting passengers.
Only two or three people got on here, and they had to cross
another snow-covered track to get to our train. We paused here
for less than a minute and were soon on our way up Donner Pass.
I now went to the Sightseer Lounge car to get the best views of
the spectacular scenery ahead.
The first interesting feature along there route is the
Stanford Curve, a long switchback which provides a needed
opportunity for elevation gain. Looking up from the valley, you
can see the parallel line up on the ridge, culminating in two
tunnels (one for each of two parallel lines), the portals of
which are also visible from below. After passing through here,
you get a view to the right of Donner Lake below, and then you go
through a two-mile long tunnel at the summit. For the next few
miles, the ground is covered with several feet of snow. However,
this year's snowfall is considerably less than normal.
I was soon joined in the lounge car by the man from Auburn
who had the room opposite me. Having lived in the area for
years, he was very knowledgeable, and pointed out many points of
interest not mentioned by the commentary broadcast on the
loudspeaker. He also mentioned that he often skied at some of
the ski areas that we passed, and noted that his son was a world
championship skier, having gone as fast as 150 miles per hour on
skis. (Gee, I thought that only Acela Express trains could go
that fast!) The views to the right of the train down at the
valley were spectacular, and you could also catch some glimpses
of the front of the train going around curves. Although there
were a number of people in the lounge car, the car was far from
full. Soon, we passed the site where the California Zephyr had
been marooned for several days by a snowstorm in 1952. My
companion from Auburn commented that the father of one of his
friends owned a ski lodge nearby, and was the first to reach the
stranded passengers on the train.
I also started talking to one of the women with whom I was
sitting for dinner last night. She wanted to learn more about
the scenery along the route that we had covered, so I lent her my
copy of the 1993 Amtrak Route Guide that I had brought with me.
She was quite excited to have the opportunity to read it, so I
let her keep even after I returned to my room (I got it back
later). I think that it should really be a priority for Amtrak
to restore to its trains meaningful and informative Route Guides
and make them available to all passengers.
After we passed the viewpoint to the left, with the steep
drop down to the valley of the North Fork of the American River,
the scenery became a little less spectacular, and I returned to
my room. By now, we had descended significantly from the summit
of the pass, and there was no longer any snow on the ground.
Soon, we passed an area known as Gold Run, which commemorates the
fact that in the late 1800s, gold was "mined" by scooping up all
the topsoil and running it through sluices to capture the traces
of gold contained therein. Needless to say, this environmentally
unfriendly method of gold mining was soon outlawed, but its
effects remain even today.
At 2:21 p.m., we arrived at Colfax. I heard an announcement
made that we would be making two stops here, so I went
downstairs, hoping to detrain from my car and reboard at the
coaches on the second stop. Rolf, the car attendant, had no
problem with what I was planning on doing, but the conductor
refused to let me do this. This is the first time on the entire
trip that I was prevented from getting off the train where, in my
opinion, it was not unreasonable for me to do so. So instead I
opened up the window in the vestibule to get a picture of the old
boarded-up frame station, with a sign stating that it is Colfax's
"future" train station. At present, though, there is only a
small gazebo to shelter waiting passengers, and the train stops
at the adjacent grade crossing to board and discharge passengers.
When we departed Colfax after a five-minute stop, we were 50
minutes late.
From Colfax to Roseville, there are two parallel single-
track rail lines, each on a slightly different grade. The docent
explained over the loudspeaker that the line we are traveling on
is the original Central Pacific line from the 1860s, while the
other line was built at the turn of the century, with better
grades. At one point, we passed by the stone-arch portal of a
tunnel from the other line. The docent pointed out the historic
Auburn station, with a newly-erected statue of a Chinese laborer,
commemorating the work of the Chinese in building this railroad
over Donner Pass.
Since we were soon approaching my final destination,
Sacramento, I began to gather my belongings together. While
doing so, Rolf came by with some more cheese and crackers. I
also made one final trip back to the coaches at the end of the
train.
Our next stop was Roseville, where we arrived at 3:34 p.m.
and departed two minutes later. The old yellow-painted frame
station here, which stands some distance back from the tracks,
has been restored, and there is a new concrete platform.
From Roseville to Sacramento, the line is relatively
straight and flat. On the way, we met the route of Sacramento's
light-rail line, which parallels the railroad coming in to
Sacramento. I hadn't realized that Sacramento had a light-rail
system, and I decided that I would have to ride it as part of my
stay here. Before I knew it, we were rounding the final curve
and pulling in to the Amtrak station in Sacramento. It was
precisely 4:00 p.m., and we had arrived on time! We had made up
all the time that we had lost earlier in the trip. (Indeed, when
I subsequently checked on Amtrak's web site, I found out that the
train had actually arrived in Emeryville 22 minutes early, thus
have made up a full three hours en route!)
I detrained, gave a $10 tip to Rolf, and prepared to walk
towards the station. As a nice parting gesture, Rolf asked the
an Amtrak employee, who was passing by with a cart loaded with
baggage checked to Sacramento, to let me put my own luggage on
the cart to be transported to the station. I said goodbye to
Rolf, and the train departed at 4:04 p.m. Upon arrival at the
station, I attempted to give the employee (who turned out to be
the station agent) a $1 tip, which he refused to accept. I then
walked around the corner to the Vagabond Inn, where I would be
staying for the night.
My two-day trip on the California Zephyr was quite
enjoyable. The two major delays that we encountered were not the
fault of the freight railroads, and as far as I can tell, we were
not put on a siding even once to facilitate the movement of a
freight train. The cooperation of both freight railroads -- BNSF
and UP -- in facilitating our passage was remarkable. Every crew
member on the train was pleasant, and both my attendant, Rolf,
and the coach attendant, John, did a really great job. I enjoyed
the trip very much, and am looking forward to the next two legs
of the trip -- Sacramento to Emeryville on a Capitol train, and
Oakland to Los Angeles on the Coast Starlight.