January 24, 2013
Amtrak Denver – Emeryville 805a – 445p California Zephyr First Class

I was four years old when we piled into our new Ford Country Squire station wagon and drove from Colorado out to California. Over the course of that trip I almost drowned after falling into a motel swimming pool, almost got swept out to sea by a rogue wave and then fell completely out of the car after playing with the door handle in the back seat. Amazingly I held on to the door handle while my dad frantically tried to brake and get out of traffic at the same time but my legs managed to get pretty scraped up. At the end of the trip everybody else drove back home while me and my mom flew back home aboard a Continental 707. During that flight I somehow knocked a cup of hot coffee off the tray table and onto myself.

Needless to say, I have been excited about going somewhere – anywhere – ever since that trip. Be it a car, a boat, a bus, a plane or a train – let’s go! Can’t we go tonight? Why do we have to wait until Saturday?! Can we sit in the big seats up in the front of the plane this time?

As you might imagine, I’ve been looking forward to this day in a big way ever since I booked this trip about a month ago. Starting this morning I’ll be spending 71 of the next 77 hours aboard a trio of Amtrak trains that will take me from Denver to Oakland, California to Portland, Oregon to Havre, Montana. Why Havre? Because from Denver it represents just about the farthest distance I can travel on my 15000 mile one zone award within Amtrak’s Western U.S. zone. Making this trip all the more alluring is that I’ll be traveling First Class all the way, booked into a private roomette that includes all meals enroute. That means I’ll get to order whatever I like off the menu, regardless of cost, including side dishes and desserts. And finally, the journey from Denver to Oakland aboard the California Zephyr is regarded by many as the most scenic rail journey in North America.



Amtrak’s Western Routes

Once I get to Havre I’ll go rustle up some lunch and then re-board the westbound Empire Builder for the 510 mile ride back to Spokane, Washington. Sounds crazy, you say? Well if you’ve read this far, much less read any of my other trip reports, it should be abundantly clear by now that for me at least it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey!

The first train up will be the California Zephyr. The name alone suggests a gentle Western breeze delivering the fortunate traveler across the vast wide open spaces of the American West to The Promised Land of the Golden State. From its inception, the California Zephyr was a train as beautiful and storied as the land it traveled through. Commencing service in 1949, the original California Zephyr was made up of light weight stainless steel cars manufactured by the Budd Company. One of the principal attractions of the new cars was the innovative placement a glass dome atop the roof of select cars. In fact, the inspiration for the dome car came from an executive of General Motor’s diesel locomotive manufacturing division while he was riding in the cab of one of his new diesels through Colorado’s spectacular Glenwood Canyon back in 1945.

My first ride in a dome car came as a twelve year old traveling up to Glenwood Springs aboard the California Zephyr which normally sported no less than five domes. The dome was accessed via a small stairway in the middle of the car. Upstairs under the glass dome were 24 seats arranged in six rows of 2-2. The view was forward and above as well as to the sides, perfect for enjoying the mountain scenery as we climbed from Denver up into the Rockies. It was an unforgettable ride and I’ve had a penchant for dome cars and the trains that offer them (Domeliners) ever since. Aside from private cars and tourist railroads, the only railroad offering scheduled service with its original 1955 built Budd dome cars is Canada’s ViaRail.



The original California Zephyr climbing through the Rockies

Most great train journeys begin at a great train station. Denver’s Union Station would certainly have qualified as a great station in years past and it will again, hopefully as soon as April of 2014. Until then, it is undergoing a large scale renovation that will transform it from an attractive but underutilized train station into the main transportation hub for downtown Denver, serving Amtrak, light rail, city and long distance busses. In the interim, a temporary station for Amtrak departures has been built about four blocks away. The building looks like a pre-fabricated “kit” building – some assembly required. I think the building is best described as “Amshack”.

The hotel shuttle dropped me off at the “station” at 7:30am. The westbound Zephyr had just arrived – ten minutes early no less - and was unloading its Denver bound passengers. I went inside, collected my boarding pass from the conductor and then headed out to the train to board and get settled in. Greeting me at the door to car 531 was my car attendant, Gwendolyn. She assisted me with my bag, showed me to my downstairs roomette and cast a suspicious eye at my 12-pack of Tecate. I assured her that I was an experienced beer drinker as well as an experienced train rider and that I would be on my best behavior throughout the trip. She gave a small chuckle at that – more of a guffaw, really – so I suspect she still had her concerns. Perhaps it might be best if I refrained from the traditional rebel yell upon opening that fifth can of beer…

Although I’ve written about Amtrak’s Superliner accommodations in my past reports, allow me to reiterate here for those who may not be familiar with them or any of you that might simply appreciate a refresher.

Each Amtrak bi-level Superliner Sleeper car offers 14 Roomettes, 5 Deluxe bedrooms, 1 Family bedroom and one Handicapped bedroom. Four Roomettes along with the Family and Handicapped bedrooms are located downstairs on the entry level. Opposite the stairway to the upstairs level is a shelf for baggage. I stowed my suitcase there and headed down the hall to my Roomette.

Amtrak’s roomettes measure 3’6” by 6’6” and are accessed via a sliding glass door. During the day they offer two wide opposite facing seats that fold together to become a bed at night. Above them is a fold-down upper berth. Other amenities include four separate lights, an electrical outlet, a tall mirror, a fold out table, a small open closet with hangers and even a thermostat which I immediately turned to its lowest level. Best of all, each compartment has its own huge window, approximately 2’ X 5’, through which to view the passing scenery. Toilet and shower facilities are down the hall. For a single traveler, I think these Roomettes are just perfect.

Virtual Tour of the Roomette in Day Time Configuration

Virtual Tour of the Roomette in Night Time Configuration

Virtual Tour of the Roomette with Information Points

On each seat were big fluffy pillows and behind the center console where the table is stored were two bottles of water and a variety of pamphlets about the train. There was a route guide, a timetable, a safety card much like you’d see aboard an airliner and a brochure describing the train and its various services and attractions.



My Roomette in Daytime Configuration

At the top of the stairway is the service area for each car. In the morning, juice and coffee are available from this area. Ice is available throughout the day.

When I booked this trip, I specifically asked for all of my roomettes to be on the downstairs level. The reason for this is that the main traffic flow between cars is upstairs. The train’s occasional rocking motion can make normal walking a bit of a challenge and most people tend to ricochet their way down the narrow hallways, bouncing off walls and doors with equal abandon. The downstairs rooms are much quieter because there is so much less foot traffic passing by your door. Secondly, being lower in the train car means less tilt motion than is experienced on the upper levels.

Already on board were my neighbors for the journey west; Jim and Sheila from Kenosha, Wisconsin and Fred from Lincoln, Nebraska. Lincoln is home of the University of Nebraska and its beloved Cornhuskers football team. “Go Big Red!” Like 98.6% of all good red blooded Nebraska males, Fred was a dedicated Nebraska football fan though unlike many I’ve met he did not feel a need to dress as a team booster throughout the year. Somehow over the course of a few beers during the trip west, I came to know him as “Big Fred” ~ a nice guy and an enjoyable traveling companion – at least as far as Salt Lake City where he detrained.

While Fred had ridden the Zephyr before, Jim and Sheila had not. They’d boarded the train yesterday afternoon in Chicago and thus far were positively thrilled with everything about their first long distance train trip. Although the skies over Denver and the Front Range were partly cloudy, there was plenty of sunshine to highlight the spectacular scenery ahead. All of us were excited and ready to go.

Soon the “All Aboard!” call was made by the conductor, echoed shortly thereafter by all the car attendants. The doors to each car were then closed, the engineer gave a couple of blasts on the horn and with a gentle tug from the lead P42 diesels we were on our way, gliding slowly past Coors Field and quickly picking up speed as we headed out into the northwest Denver suburbs.

Breakfast was being served in the diner, conveniently located just one car up from my sleeper. Most of Amtrak’s trains are put together so that the First Class sleepers are always connected to one end of the diner. Since everyone entering the diner must wait to be seated by a member of the wait staff, the dining car staff gets a pretty good idea of who their First Class passengers are. That’s important for two reasons: First because meals are complimentary for First Class passengers and second, the dining car staff are able to head off any errant wanderers from the Coaches who either don’t know where they’re going or might be trying to scam a shower or even a short ride in an unoccupied compartment. I know the drill well because back in my college days, as a coach passenger, I was quite adept at making my way back into First Class just so I could hang out in the old Santa Fe Pleasure Dome.

Seating in the dining car is communal. This comes as a surprise to many first time riders but due to simple supply and demand, there really is no choice if the crew is going to get all those who want to eat fed in the time allotted for each meal. Between mealtimes the diner is cleaned and the tables reset while downstairs the cooks are busy prepping for the next meal.

Breakfast and Luncheon crowds are generally dealt with as they arrive but dinner is usually broken down into four or five seatings. Reservations for these are placed with the Dining Car Steward as he or she makes their way through the entire train during the mid-afternoon.

Upon presenting yourself and/or your party to eat in the diner, you’ll either be sat at your own table or with someone else. If there’s an empty seat at your table and you’ve just recently arrived, expect it to be filled with a single traveler or travelers. Though ideally we’d all like to have our own table, without doubt the greatest benefit of Amtrak’s communal seating is the opportunity to meet your fellow passengers.

My tablemates today lent a distinct international flavor to our group. There was myself from Alaska, Jesus from San Antonio, Texas by way of Monterey, Mexico and Igor from Almaty, Kazakhstan. Igor remained pretty quiet throughout the meal, presumably because he wasn’t very confident in his English skills. We did establish name and origin but where he’d been or where he was going was a bit more than he was comfortable with. No matter – Jesus had plenty to say and, for a guy who’d only been speaking English for four years, he was more than proficient.

More on him in a moment though. Let’s check out that Breakfast Menu. Coffee? Por supuesto!

I chose the veggie omelet with a side of chicken-maple sausage, potatoes and a croissant. Jesus and Igor both went with the French Toast. Our meals were delivered promptly, hot on the plate and with plenty of refills on the coffee.

Jesus was an engaging personality who had quite a story to tell. He was a young fellow, just 26 years old who’d left his hometown of Monterey, Mexico due to the violence of the drug gangs. The way he explained it, as a young man in Mexico you don’t even have to be in the gangs to be in danger. The gangs are cruel and ruthless and even the presumption of affiliation – an apparently easy assumption for some to make of a young male in Monterey - or perhaps the presumed knowledge about this or that person or act is enough to put you in the crosshairs of some very bad people. He and his mother moved up to Corpus Christi, Texas about ten years ago after his brother was killed in gang violence.

Jesus was taking a roundabout train trip from San Antonio to Los Angeles via Chicago and San Francisco. He wanted to see more of the country before moving to San Bernardino to be with his grandmother who had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer. He had a real passion for acting, having been involved in a couple of theater productions in San Antonio. His hope was that he might find a way to continue along those lines while in Los Angeles. Being the smart fellow that he was – he held no illusions as to his chances of making the big stage, much less even the mid-sized stage while in LA – but he was excited about the potential opportunity and confident that he would impress. I found myself hoping that we might meet again in five years’ time and see how things had worked out for him.

By the time the last of our breakfast plates were being cleared, we were well on our way up South Boulder Creek Canyon. Back in the early eighties I used to visit with some old hippies (Well, they were somewhat younger hippies back then – they’re old hippies now) who lived down in Eldorado Springs near the base of the canyon. We could see and hear the trains go by half way up the canyon wall on the Rio Grande mainline as we quaffed Duvel Ales or sipped Blue Stem tea. It was always an impressive sight to see the train chugging along that ledge way up there and you couldn’t help but want to ride it sometime soon. My friends are still there, though they’ve moved down to Boulder where Lori has owned a macrobiotic sushi business for some years now. I still always think of them whenever the Zephyr rounds that bend above Eldorado Springs. Hopefully we’ll get a chance to catch up on old times come spring…



The first of 28 tunnels as seen from the rear of the train

The train continued to climb while passing through 28 tunnels enroute to The Moffat Tunnel – a 6.2 mile long passage beneath the Continental Divide. Anyone who hasn’t found a seat in the lounge car by now is just plain outta luck. With its array of huge side wall and ceiling windows, the Sightseer Lounge Car is the perfect place for those who want to enjoy the dramatic scenery through the Rockies. All seats are usually occupied by the time the train crosses State Highway 93 outside of Boulder and begins its long, steady climb to the Moffatt Tunnel. I used to vie for those seats too until I discovered I could get clearer pictures from an open window. As such I went downstairs to the vestibule of my sleeper where I discreetly took pictures through the Dutch door upon which is a sign clearly prohibiting such activity.

DANGER! The sign announces in loud red script. ONLY train crew is authorized to open this window. I have been riding trains through the Rockies for years, and photographing the ride through the vestibule windows all along. The Rio Grande never had any complaint with photographers using the vestibules but Amtrak claims that there is a danger of a rock flying up and hitting someone while the train is moving. I have a hard time accepting this since the main body of the train car extends out over the wheels for a good foot or more on each side.

Regardless, it is Amtrak's policy and it is clearly stated; so - if like me you choose to disregard it then the important thing is to be discreet. Open the window just long enough to get a good shot, then close it. Do not leave the window open and hang out there for extended periods like this one guy did a couple of years ago. He was a young guy in his late twenties who had a nice camera and wanted a nicer photo than he could get through the water spotted windows by his seat. Unfortunately he chose to leave the window open and just hang out for a better view and camera angle despite my admonition that by leaving the window open for extended periods he’d eventually attract the attention of the crew either by the louder noise from the open window or by his being seen. Sure enough the car attendant came down and jumped all over him for having the window open.

“Can’t you read?” the car attendant asked while pointing at the sign.
“Well I just don’t understand what the danger is!” this guy kept saying.

I wanted to butt in “It’s not yours to understand, you moron!! You could’ve been cool about it but now you’ve gone and screwed it up for any of us who wanted to get a better picture!”

Of course I held my tongue and instead displayed an inordinate amount of interest in the water dispenser.

This time I had the downstairs vestibule to myself and was able to snap off a few decent shots with my little Canon pocket camera. Here – check em out:



Deep snow alongside the tracks



Heading into Byers Canyon



Gore Canyon



Leaving Gore Canyon



Descending into Dotsero

I also spent some time in my roomette and enjoyed the view from a more comfortable position:



Oh yeah! Bring on that countryside!



Cruisin’ outside of Granby, Colorado

An announcement was made that a herd of elk could be seen coming up off the left side of the train. Sure enough there were about three dozen of them grazing in a clearing about one hundred yards from the tracks. I found it interesting that the elk barely responded to our passing. By comparison, the sheep in New Zealand would never fail to stop in mid-chew and bolt en masse away from the tracks, fully expecting the train to jump the rails and come tearing through the paddock for them. Silly creatures.



Storm clouds gather as we approach Gypsum
I used to do horse pack trips through these mountains

Time really flies when you’re having fun. In no time at all it seemed like we’d rolled through Dotsero, Gypsum, eaten luncheon in the diner (Black Bean and Chipotle burger for me please, with bacon), Glenwood Springs, Silt, Rifle and on into Grand Junction. Though I rarely ever do so at home, I was ready for a nap – but not before first placing a 7:00pm dinner reservation with the dining car steward. When I awoke, we were rolling along at top speed, about 79mph through the Utah desert just west of Green River. This is a really pretty portion of the trip but unfortunately one that can’t be enjoyed during the winter months due to the shorter days.



California Zephyr Dining Car

My dinner companions this evening were Jim and Marilyn from Stockton, California and “Big Fred” who’d also elected to go with the 7:00pm seating. Jim & Marilyn were a retired couple in their seventies who’d flown out to Denver to visit their son and decided to take the train back home. Jim mentioned that neither he nor Marilyn had ridden a train since taking the Southern Pacific down to LA sometime back in the early sixties. Fred mentioned that his uncle was a conductor on the Union Pacific for many years and that a few years ago he got to ride in the cab of a UP locomotive out of the Omaha yards. I mentioned that I work with a fellow who’s ridden in a few locomotive cabs as well, but he was a hobo at the time. Then he became a Benedictine Monk and now he drives busses with me during the summer in Denali National Park.

Dinner was pretty good. I had the steak like I usually do, along with a perfectly cooked baked potato. The steak was a strange looking cut of meat but it tasted just fine and it was indeed medium rare, just as I’d requested. All that was missing was that delicious herbed butter that has accompanied Amtrak’s steaks in the past. Our waiter acknowledged that Amtrak still serves that butter but that unfortunately it was never loaded in Chicago for this trip. Also ordered amongst our group were the salmon and the ribs, both of which looked quite tasty. Dessert was a choice of cheesecake, chocolate brownie with ice cream or two different flavors of ice cream. “Big Fred” chose the cheesecake while I went with a small cup of chocolate peanut butter Häagen-Dazs.

After dinner, Fred and I headed back to the lounge car. Speeding across the Utah desert in the dark of night provided little in the way of visual stimulation, but there were plenty of riders present simply enjoying the natural conviviality so intrinsic to shared travel in a railroad lounge car. Indeed, one of the best differences between train and plane travel is the lounge car and its ever-changing population of visitors over the course of a long trip. Unlike an airplane which quickly flies you from Denver to California in a mere two hours, the California Zephyr makes 18 stops along the way, picking up and dropping off all manner of fresh visitors for the lounge.

I’d left my beer back in my room, but no worries - we purchased a couple from the downstairs café, then grabbed a seat at an open table upstairs. Across the aisle from us sat Rusty and Beth (I’m making up “Rusty’s name – for the life of me I just can’t recall it but his ruddy complexion and reddish grey hair made him look “Rusty” to me, so there. They overheard me saying something about Alaska and chimed in that they’d driven up there and back five years ago. Like many natural born travelers who’ve driven to Alaska, they were really looking forward to doing the trip again. In the meantime they were travelling to Sacramento where they would split up. Beth was going to visit family while “Rusty” was heading down to Palm Springs to rent a jeep and drive out into the desert for a few days. Sounds like my kind of trip!

At about 9:00pm I excused myself for a moment, then returned and broke out my 375ml bottle of Jack Daniels. I’d purchased it the evening before for just $12.99, considerably less than I’d have paid for a similar amount at Amtrak’s price of $7.00 per airline serving sized bottle. Cheers erupted and we spent the next couple of hours talking about everything from train travel to country music to motorcycle racing to overseas travel and misadventure. I’m a social drinker so sharing that bottle amongst us all was a good time and as things turned out, everyone else pitched in on a couple more rounds of drinks until the café closed down for the night at 11:00pm. Next time I do a trip like this, I just may bring along a 750 ml. bottle!

Due to some freight traffic ahead of us, we were running about 45 minutes late so it was close to midnight when “Big Fred” left us in Salt Lake City. Rusty and Beth wanted to take advantage of the smoke break during the fifteen minute stop in Salt Lake (The last smoke break was about six hours earlier back in Grand Junction) and given the late hour and to some extent the alcohol, I decided to call it a night and return to my sleeper. Gwendolyn had already lowered and made up my bed. All I had to do was brush my teeth, change into my Broncos T-Shirt, grab my blanket and call it a night.

I should note that although Amtrak’s beds come with sheets and a blanket, I always use my own. The primary reason for this is that I find the sheets to be confining on the 28” wide bed and the blanket is not all that large either. I prefer to just sleep on top of the bed and use my blanket like a quilt. For me at least, I’m much more comfortable that way.



Amtrak’s Roomette made up for evening occupancy

Given the combination of the train’s gentle rocking motion, the soft clickety-clack of the rails beneath us and the four or five ounces of recently consumed Jack Daniels, I slept remarkably well – about seven hours straight. It was almost as good as being unconscious. By the time I finally awoke we were well past Winnemucca and only about an hour out of Reno. I was a little concerned that I might miss last call for breakfast, so I quickly threw on yesterday’s clothes and made my way to the diner where a hot cup of coffee and a chilled glass of orange juice were promptly delivered to me at my very own table. The diner was surprisingly quiet this morning and I ended up with the table to myself for the entire meal, which was a very tasty and surprisingly rich Southwestern Quiche.



Southwest Quiche for breakfast

In Reno we replaced all the passengers that had left us the night before with a large group of gamblers. Reno is only a few hours by rail from the Bay Area and it’s not at all uncommon for the Zephyr to pick up a lot of people on their way home after a day or two of gambling. This is a party crowd we’re talking about here – I’d hazard a guess that a good number of them hadn’t gone to bed last night but rather had come straight from the tables to the train. The lounge car instantly became a lot louder and livelier once we departed Reno.

Just west of Reno we commenced a long, snowy climb up into the Sierra Nevadas. Nevadas means snow covered and there was no shortage of the white stuff as we made our way up through numerous snow sheds designed to protect passing trains from avalanches. As we continued down the other side of Donner Pass, I was surprised at how little snow there was on the western side compared to the eastern side of the mountains. The majority of the storms affecting this area come in off the Pacific Ocean, but perhaps it’s warmer on the western side because it looked positively spring like compared to the wintry conditions coming up from Reno.



Truckee River outside of Reno



Snowy Sierra Tunnel



Up into the fog



Springtime on the Eastern Slope of the Sierras



Rolling down the tracks towards Colfax, CA

At lunch I was sat with Brad and Veronica, a young couple who’d just returned from a scuba diving trip to the Maldives. Of course a trip like that is worthy of some discussion and one of the things that came out of that was that they’d flown there and back in Business Class via Qatar Airways. Turns out they’d paid for their trip with credit card points earned as a result of Brad’s proficiency at “churning”, the art of using credit cards to accrue large amounts of mileage. Brad was clearly a pretty smart guy having recently acquired his PhD in Astronomy, so he definitely had this churning thing figured out pretty well. Veronica did not “churn” herself, though she definitely enjoyed making the long trip to the Maldives in Business Class as opposed to the alternative.

At some point Brad made mention of a website called “FlyerTalk” where he’d apparently learned a few tricks of the trade.

” I’m familiar with FlyerTalk”, I said. “I sometimes post over in the Trip Reports forum”.

“What’s your FlyerTalk name?” asked Brad.

“Seat 2A” I replied.

Gasp!

“I’ve heard of you!”

“Really? Well I guess I have submitted a few reports over the years…”

Turns out Brad was an infrequent poster on FT – indeed he could hardly remember his FT name. He couldn’t quite remember how he’d heard of me but he knew that he had.

It’s always a bit odd when you run into someone you’ve never met before but for whatever reason they know who you are. This has happened to me on a few occasions related to my work in Denali Park. Once I picked up this guy hitch hiking in the Yukon who knew who I was related to a big July 4th party we used to put on in the park. He’d been there the year before and saw a sign somebody’d made asking where I was. He later ended up working for us and still works in the park to this day some 23 years later. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who knew of me as a result of FlyerTalk though.

Anyway, back to the train ride –

My tickets from Denver to Havre, Montana had me changing trains in Sacramento, California and Portland, Oregon. The Sacramento layover was scheduled for ten hours! When I’d made the reservations I tried to talk the ticket agent into letting me change trains in the Oakland suburb of Emeryville where I’d have just a five hour layover but she’d have none of it. The official connection point for those coming off the westbound California Zephyr to the northbound Coast Starlight was Sacramento and that was that.

We were about an hour out of Sacramento when I approached the conductor and explained my situation to him. At that point we were running 30 minutes early and since the northbound Coast Starlight would be passing through Emeryville anyway, it made as much sense to him as it did to me that I go on down to Emeryville and change trains there, especially since I was travelling on an award ticket. He warned however that I’d be on my own with regard to how the crew on northbound train #14 wanted to handle my getting on early there. No worries – if I have to buy a ticket to Sacramento I will.

As things turned out there were no problems at all. In Emeryville I stored my bag at the station and purchased a ticket on an Amtrak Thruway bus into San Francisco and back. I had a nice walk about the downtown financial district, stopped in for some coffee at a local café, then found a very nice, very lively and affordable restaurant in the Embarcadero called Perry’s. I had a delicious half chicken dinner washed down with two perfectly chilled Sierra Nevada Pale Ales and then walked back to the Ferry Building where I caught the Amtrak bus back to Emeryville.