Seat 2A

The Coast Starlight is by far the finest train in the Amtrak system. A ride on this train offers an excellent opportunity to experience old fashioned style and comfort in an age where speed and efficiency are now are the watchwords. Normally I could never afford a First Class ticket aboard this train but Alaska Airlines offers just that in exchange for 20000 miles from their Frequent Flyer program. This is the same amount required for their round trip coach saver award, giving one a round trip in a single bedroom, all meals included, anywhere between Seattle and LA.

A good train trip starts with the train station. The finest stations are truly works of art, indeed they are monument to transportation. Just walking into a big city train station can be awe inspiring ~ the high sculpted ceilings, the polished stone floors, the church-pew like seats, the classic announcements, the slight hint of old cigar smoke… New York's Grand Central Station immediately comes to mind.

Unfortunately, Seattle's King Street Station falls a bit short in all of these areas except for perhaps the cigar smoke. I do however remember reading that the men’s restroom at this station was once voted Best In The Nation back during a time when such things were worthy of public accolade. These days my personal vote would go to the Loews Odeon Cineplex Theaters in Sacramento, California. An awesome water closet!

Train arrivals aren’t like airplane arrivals. They’re much more impressive. Like a parade. The Coast Starlight pulled up to the platform at 9:30am. First came the big 4000 horsepower diesel locomotives; bells clanging, engines churning, their power almost tangible. Next came the baggage car, then the big double deck sleepers – each named after a state – followed by the Pacific Parlor Car, the dining car, the Sightseer Lounge Car and four or five coach cars.

The call to board came soon after. Amongst all the passengers lined up for the Sleeper Cars, I was the only one carrying a backpack. I was the only one with a beard. I was also one of the few without a walker or a cane. I was definitely the youngest of the group. I saw some fellow backpackers in the coach car line looking at me with some confusion. What's he doing over there? He looks like one of us! I waved like a lottery winner and strolled out to Car 1130, named “Texas”. The car attendant, Faisal, showed me to Room 13, downstairs on the right. Small but exceedingly functional, it was better than many First Class Sleeper Suites in the sky. Wide reclining seat, big 5’ picture window with curtains, numerous lights, a thermostat, towels, hangers and a metal compartment that slid out from below the seat that would be more than suitable for icing down some beers later in the trip. Shower and bathrooms down the hall, coffee, juice and ice upstairs, complementary meals ~ what more could one want? Well, OK, an onboard masseuse would be nice…

Meals are pretty good too. For lunch I ordered a salad and a bacon avocado burger. For dinner I selected a chicken breast wrapped in a pastry shell with a creamy mushroom sauce atop it all, asparagus on the side. Very tasty! Seating is communal so you meet a lot of different people. At breakfast I sat across from a well dressed couple from Florida who had visited Denali National Park where I worked this past summer. The man was a retired postal employee from a small town in Illinois and had never been to California. Further conversation revealed he’d not been to many places outside of Florida and Illinois and was in no hurry to go anywhere soon. On the possibility of going to Hawaii this winter, he opined why go all the way over there when Florida had plenty of tropics right near by? By comparison, his wife was the real go-getter. She especially enjoyed train travel and had ridden almost as many trains as I had. Intentionally, I might add. I hope her husband finds a way to enjoy Hawaii and the rest of the world because for sure she’s not going to let him sit around in Florida the rest of his retirement. Across from me sat a kinda geeky looking guy in a Metallica T-shirt, black plastic glasses and a somewhat casual approach to grooming. His oatmeal had arrived by the time we were sat and as he waited for his sugar and raisins he held his fork and spoon in clenched fists on either side of his bowl. I thought he might be kidding but he kept a firm grip on that silverware until his condiments arrived. He didn’t have a lot to say initially but later told us he worked for ITT as an engineer working on satellites. He’d been sent to some interesting places in the course of his employment with ITT. Thule, Greenland; a couple of remote stations in Alaska and various bases all over America. He was also a railfan.

Most everyone who chooses to ride a train in this age of exceedingly affordable air travel is a railfan to some extent. Indeed on many longer routes it’s more expensive to take the train than to fly, especially when you add in the cost of meals. Most people simply enjoy the leisurely pace of a train. Others are full blown railroading fanatics that can quote chapter and verse the pre-Amtrak history of Southern Pacific’s Daylight and Starlight trains through California or the gear ratios on GE’s new Genesis Class locomotives. I’m a railfan too but outside of having ridden every Amtrak route in America over 200 miles in length, I can’t keep up with most of the history and technical buffs. The one thing we all share in common is the sheer enjoyment of going somewhere on a train and since that’s exactly what we were all doing at the moment, we were all having a fine time.

The final two hours before we arrived in Santa Barbara were spent rolling along the Pacific coastline, one of the few times the train actually skirts the coast. The sun was low in the western sky, shimmering off the water’s surface. Quite nice to be seated in one of the big overstuffed swivel chairs in the parlor car taking it all in. An elderly couple seated nearby marveled at the beautiful coastline but for some odd reason seemed overly surprised that there were no people out on the beaches. “Where are all the people?” the man would wonder aloud each and every time we passed another beach. His wife would cluck and shake her head as she’d probably been doing for the past forty years in support of her husband’s many observations. We were still quite a ways from anywhere. I guess they figured that all beautiful beaches, regardless of how remote, just ought to have people out enjoying them. The man’s constant observations of this point grew tiresome. Just enjoy the view, dude. Stop complaining! Eventually we went past a state campground that also appeared to be deserted. Sure enough, he commented on this as well. I felt a need to respond. My suggestion that there might be a bit of anthrax in the area was not well received and when I later blurted out “Hey look! There's a couple of people being taken out to sea by the riptide!” I became positively unpopular. Whaaat! Some people have no sense of humor… The man’s observations ceased however. (Historical note: This report was written during the big anthrax scare in early 2002)

A half hour later, we eased into Santa Barbara right on time. Dusk, palm trees, 75 degrees, a gentle breeze, and the whole evening ahead of me yet. I exited the train refreshed, relaxed and ready for a fun night in Santa Barbara.

All things considered, I heartily recommend a trip on a long distance American passenger train before congress decides to stop subsidizing Amtrak altogether. So far as I know, Amtrak has never had a profitable year and it seems only a matter of time before all trains in America outside of the busier corridors such as Washington, DC to New York to Boston disappear altogether.