CHICAGO LAYOVER
This was a day it would’ve been nice to be delayed. Here I was saddled with a six hour layover and I had nobody to meet in Chicago and nothing in particular planned.
One nice thing about Amtrak’s Metropolitan Lounge is that they’ll store your baggage at no cost. They’ve also got coffee and pastries available in the morning. I headed over there directly and spent a couple hours on some aimless internet surfing before heading out and upstairs to street level where I caught a bus over to Harry Carry’s restaurant on W. Kinzie Street.
A couple of years ago a friend of mine and I had stumbled upon this restaurant after discovering that the price of a hamburger at the nearby House of Blues was a quite a bit more than we deemed reasonable for a third pound of beef, a slice of cheese, a few vegetables and some fried potatoes.
For those of you unfamiliar with Harry Caray, he’s a Chicago sports casting legend that was the voice of the Chicago White Sox from 1971 to 1981 and the Chicago Cubs from 1982 to 1997. Harry brought passion and charisma to his broadcasts and I’m sure to most of his other pursuits as well. Though Harry is no longer with us, his spirit lives on through the three restaurants that bear his name.
Bronze Bust of Harry Carry in his restaurant
One of Harry’s signature phrases – often exclaimed after particularly impressive home runs – was “Holy Cow!” as in “"It might be ... it could be ... it IS! A home run! Holy cow!". In Harry’s baritone it came out more like “Hoooo-lee Cowww!!!” On the menu at Harry’s is a 10oz hamburger brimming with onions and mushrooms and other good things. I can just hear Harry now being presented with this impressive burger and saying “Holy Cow!”. Of course, the name of the burger is the “Holy Cow!” Burger. I’ll have that please. Medium rare. With fries. And a pint of Goose Island Ale, please.
On my way back to the station I stopped off at a CVS Pharmacy, conveniently located just one block from Union Station. More than a mere drug store, CVS also stock an impressive array of snacks and a basic selection of spirits. For me, that translated into a purchase of four sleeves of Smokehouse Almonds and one bottle of Jack Daniels Tennessee Whiskey.
Now suitably outfitted for the journey ahead, I returned to Union Station to await the departure of train 3, the westbound
Southwest Chief.
April 05, 2015
Amtrak Chicago to Los Angeles 300p – 815a +2 Southwest Chief First Class
Waiting at the door of sleeper #330 was Darrell, a big, happy gregarious man who made me and all my fellow passengers feel right at home from the moment we arrived. In making his rounds after we’d boarded, we quickly established that I was a veteran rider and so the conversation turned to other things. Darrell noticed my Denver Broncos t-shirt that I’d brought along to sleep in. It turns out he was a Raiders fan and some light hearted razzing ensued that ended abruptly when I asked “How do you keep the Oakland Raiders away from your house?” Why, put a goal post in your yard, of course! Truth be known, Darrell had to attend to a couple in the handicapped room but I saw him often during the two day ride west and always enjoyed his bon homie.
Pulling out of Chicago with a punctuality that would have made the Swiss proud, we soon left the Chicago suburbs behind and sped out into the rolling farmland of rural Illinois.
Illinois farm country
Still a bit bleak until spring arrives
At dinner I was seated across from two young guys from England who’d flown in the day before from Manchester and were just starting a two-week trip around the western U.S. Neither of them had ever been to the U.S. and the only plans they’d made for this trip was to spend a couple of days in LA before renting a car and heading up the coast to San Francisco and then down to Las Vegas.
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This LA San Francisco Las Vegas triangle has to be amongst the most popular ever for visitors to the American west. It’s not a bad circuit in and of itself but in many instances the people I’ve met who are doing it are planning to drive mostly on the interstate highways with the exception of course being California’s famous highway 1 along the beautiful Pacific coast. These boys were no different.
As one who was born and raised in the American west and loves its varied landscapes more than anywhere else in the world, I can’t help but cringe a bit when I hear of people of any stripe planning to drive the interstates. Now I understand that sometimes time is more important than sightseeing, and in those instances people are generally well served by using the big roads. That said however, if you’re over here on holiday and your primary intent is to see this big, broad beautiful land we Americans call home, I totally encourage you to get yourself a good road atlas, fire up your sense of adventure and strike out on the blue highways. You’ll be rewarded with views and experiences far more rewarding than those so often missed while putting your brain in neutral and speeding down the big broad expanse of concrete that is your typical interstate highway.
If I could endorse any two books that best describe the benefits of driving the secondary roads through America, I would recommend:
by William Least Heat Moon
And
by Bill Bryson
The American west covers a huge area and its vastness may very well be a bit intimidating to those from smaller countries. Nevada alone must seem huge compared to most European countries. The most common concerns about secondary roads that I hear range from road quality to criminal activity to getting lost. In that light, I can certainly appreciate how the interstates must look safer and more attractive to first time visitors.
Mind you I’m never one to lambaste anyone – particularly those from beyond our borders – about their choice of routes. Rather, I simply mention a few of the benefits of some alternate routes suitable to their itinerary and offer my services toward route recommendations should they so desire. After all, when it comes to driving around the west, my credentials are impeccable.
This is a map of everywhere I’ve driven only in my old 1988 Mazda truck
This photo was taken in 1997. I drove that truck until 2006 over many more roads
that aren’t represented in this photo
The way I see it, if you can make your way from the car rental facility out to California Highway 1, drive it and then navigate your way on to the appropriate interstate and eventually back to the car rental facility, you can just as easily find your way onto and off of highway 33 or Route 66 or State Road S22.
I’ve got a road trip coming up myself in just a few days and so I just happened to have a small road atlas with me. Additionally, in my laptop - which accompanies me everywhere - I also have thousands of pictures from my travels around the country over the years. I can not only show you some great roads, I can also show you some great pictures from driving them.
Why take I-70 across Utah when you can take Utah Highway 95 through Frye Canyon
And then connect to
Utah Highway 12 down through the Escalante
If they were at all interested I said I’d be happy to provide them with some interesting options after dinner in the lounge. As it turned out however, they weren’t at all interested and so we spent the remainder of dinner discussing British dental plans and Welsh politics.
Just kidding!
Honestly, with my enthusiasm for the subject it would be very easy for some people – out of sheer politeness – to say yes when they’d really rather do something else, so I’m always careful to acknowledge that there may be other things they’d rather do on the train and what the heck – even if they do take the interstate, it’s all new territory for them and they’ll still have a good time. These guys were genuinely interested though, as was tablemate Jim who’d joined us shortly after we’d been seated.
As for dinner, I returned to the old tried and true – Amtrak’s Flatiron Steak accompanied by a side salad and a baked potato. I should note here that I like my steak medium rare and so I’d like to give a shout out to Amtrak’s chefs everywhere who have unerringly cooked all of the steaks I’ve ordered of late perfectly medium rare. Well done, gang!
Rolling along the broad Mississippi at sunset
Dinner on the Southwest Chief
A tasty start to the meal
Amtrak’s Flatiron Steak
The next day I awoke to a beautiful spring morning as we sped west through southwestern Kansas. I am always surprised at the number of people I meet who write off Kansas as flat and boring. It’s quite a large state and yes, parts of it – particularly along the Interstate 70 corridor through west central Kansas – are not visually stimulating. However, down in southwestern Kansas along the Arkansas River and amidst the Flint Hills, it’s quite a different story. Should you ever be driving through here, I’d recommend US Highway 50 or 160.
Breakfast in the diner was my usual veggie omelette with chicken sausage accompanied by a rather deflated looking croissant. I think I’ll stick to the biscuit next time. Surprisingly I got a table to myself which allowed me to spread out with a copy of yesterday’s Chicago Tribune.
Breakfast on the rails
It was about 8:00am when we crossed into Colorado. Even though I’ve lived in Alaska for thirty years, as a Colorado native it always feels good to be “back home”. Some say that St. Louis is the “Gateway to The West” but I’ve never felt you’re truly in the west until you’re at least as far as Montana, Wyoming, Colorado or New Mexico.
Our first view of the Rocky Mountains came about thirty minutes later. I think mountains symbolize the west more than any other single feature. Seated in the lounge car I could sense the excitement amongst my fellow passengers. Now
this is what it’s all about! I thought briefly of my dinner companions from last night and hoped they were up to enjoy the view.
First view of the Rocky Mountains from the Southwest Chief
Westward Ho!
Our route continued through the plains and buttes of southeastern Colorado before turning south at Trinidad and heading down into New Mexico. Here the land became much more arid as we climbed up into the high chaparral along Raton Pass.
Welcome to New Mexico!
Climbing Raton Pass
On our way down from the summit we met up with the northbound “Chief”.
Meeting of the Chiefs
We were about thirty minutes late when we pulled into Albuquerque. It was a pleasant afternoon and many passengers took advantage of our extended stop to step off the train, take a walk up and down the platform and do a bit of business with the Navajo vendors selling jewelry and blankets trackside.
Trackside at Albuquerque, New Mexico
Upon departure from Albuquerque our pace increased substantially. The Santa Fe was one of the first railroads (if not the first) to lay electrically welded rail and so our tracks not only allowed for faster speed but also provided a wonderfully smooth ride. The speed limit through western New Mexico and eastern Arizona is 90mph, which seemed to me the perfect speed as we rolled through the colorful buttes and painted desert surrounding us.
Our stop in Gallup, New Mexico brought back old memories. Back in the 1970s I went to school at Fort Lewis College in Durango, Colorado. I had friends attending Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, Arizona and on the occasional long weekend I’d hitchhike the 160 miles from Durango down to Gallup to catch the 7:30pm departure of the westbound
Southwest Limited. I always used to leave Durango about 3:00pm and despite the 160 mile route to Gallup usually requiring three or four rides, I always made it to Gallup on time.
Back in those days Amtrak had only been around a few years and so was still operating the original equipment from Santa Fe’s famous
Super Chief and
El Capitan. The bi-level Superliner equipment we see today on Amtrak’s long distance trains was still a few years away. For a young traveler like myself, the three hour ride to Flagstaff was not only affordable ($10.00) but also a lot of fun. I’d start with dinner in the diner ($4.00 would get you soup, salad and a dinner entrée) before discreetly sneaking back into the First Class cars where I’d grab a seat upstairs in Santa Fe’s luxurious
Pleasure Dome.
Unlike most dome cars of its era which sported 24 non-reclining chairs arranged in six rows of 2-2, Santa Fe’s Pleasure Domes featured 8 wide, well cushioned lounge chairs that would swivel 180°. Comfortably reclined under the dome in one of those plush loungers while speeding across the desert on a clear starry night remains one of my favorite all-time experiences aboard a train.
Tonight I was sat at a table in Amtrak’s Sightseer Lounge car enjoying the bottom half of my bottle of Jack Daniels with Don, a heavy equipment mechanic and Dodgers fan from Pomona, California. With baseball season starting this week, Don was proudly attired in his Dodgers cap and jersey. I’m conversant in sports but I’ve never felt strongly enough about any team – even my beloved Denver Broncos – to wear jerseys and hats on any day other than game day. I enjoyed talking with Don though – he was not only a Dodger fan but also a baseball fan with a good memory for historic detail. As it turned out, we both shared the same favorite all-time home run.
It was back in 1988, first game of the world series between Don’s Dodgers and my A’s. It was the bottom of the ninth with the A’s leading 4-3 and the Dodgers down to their last out. With one man on base, an injured Kirk Gibson hobbles up to the plate as a pinch hitter against the A’s Dennis Eckersley, the best reliever in baseball that season. Gibson went on to hit a dramatic two run walk off homer that I think changed the momentum of the series. It was Gibson’s only at bat in the series but boy did he sure make the most of it. Even as an A’s fan, my hat’s off to Gibson. Great hit!
Later we were joined by Richard, a cook who was currently unemployed. He’d been visiting friends in Albuquerque courtesy of an Amtrak fare sale that allowed him to travel roundtrip from Flagstaff to Albuquerque for just $64.00. I added to his discounts by pouring him a glass of Jack and we had fun discussing everything from baseball to Arizona history to life in Alaska.
Richard left us in Flagstaff and - with the Jack Daniels bottle now empty - I bid goodnight to Don and retired for the night shortly after we’d departed Flagstaff. We were still running about a half hour off schedule but my car attendant Darrell – a long time veteran of the
Southwest Chief – informed me that there was a considerable fudge factor built into the schedule between Needles and Los Angeles. From his experience our thirty minute delay was nothing to worry about. Comfortably reassured, I read for a half hour or so and then slept all the way to San Bernardino.
In the morning I packed up and then headed up to the lounge car to meet our train’s conductor. He was a friend of a friend and had been given a heads up that I’d be onboard this train. There wasn’t much time left before our on-time arrival into Los Angeles Union Station – the lounge car staff was closing down the lounge and ordered everyone back to their seats – and so we agreed to meet again in the Main Hall at 8:30.
I received another surprise when I was met trackside by an old friend from Denali. It’s been twenty years since he worked with us in the park and – like many who’ve moved on from their park jobs – he’s doing quite well in his new career as an independent film maker in LA. We headed down to the Main Hall where a Starbucks kiosk provided hot coffee and pastries while we hashed over our lives and times of late. Conductor Dave arrived and the conversation turned to trains and my trip reports which is how Dave first became aware of me. My friend Bryant in Atlanta, himself a widely traveled rail fan as well as a contributing Flyertalker, had introduced Dave to my trip reports, many of which involve rail travel. You’ll find more of them right
HERE.
Dave had to leave us at 9 so Fred and I hung out for another half hour until when boarding was announced at 9:40am. Red cap service with a golf cart is available but I’m just not quite ready to give it up for the ease of the cart when there’s still plenty of time to walk out to the train. Off we went to track 10.