Riding the Rails

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Sitting in the Salem train station I was a little apprehensive about the idea of spending all night on the train. Will I get any sleep? My fond memories of train travel included a sleeper car. In those memories I was the cute little white kid entertained by the colored sleeping car porter who turned our room into an amusement park with seats that fold into beds. But now on my own nickel I was going coach. I know the seats are more comfortable then a bus, but how comfortable I try to recall?

The joy of riding the rails became immediately evident as soon as the train began to move. The slow roll and pitch of the car; the sway back and forth; The muffled sounds inside the carpeted chamber; The constant flow of air from the HVAC system; the murmur of voices from the new community about you; all lull me into a state of relaxation. It is a cocoon specially designed to lower the blood pressure of even the hardened A-type personality.

The fact that the train is late, that it takes at least 17 hours to go from Salem to San Francisco is part of the appeal of Amtrak. It is from another time. It is of another time.

Outside the window are the houses of small town America; the storage yards of the industrial economy, the farm fields and prairies of the west. Outside that glass portal is an ever changing view: the space to let your imagination out on a long leash. There is space to wonder, time to dream. Like a deep breath, the brain is given fresh air to explore, the soul new vital energy.

It is at these moments that I know that this trip is the right thing. No, the essential thing. It is not about the doing or the accomplishing, it is about the being. It is about giving the soul time and space. To heal. To rest. To explore. To play. To envision. And when the time comes, slowly, of its own pace, to begin to understand and to develop into new life.

It is these moments that are hardest to put into words, to spend energy on such exercise is to defeat the purpose. They are the moments least likely to be shared on the internet. They are the moments I am drinking in most fully as a move through these days of adventure and travel.

There are stories to tell from the last week. Now that I am back at a computer I shall share some of them with you over the coming days. The map that comes with this entry shows where I have been in the last week and where I have landed. I have some pictures to share too.

Details

From Tacoma I caught a ride with a friend of Jenny and Stewart’s to Beaverton OR (Thanks Mike) so that I could spend three nights with J & S and their kids in McMinnville Oregon. A short car ride to Salem for a wonderful one-day visit with Ronnie, the matriarch of my sister-in-law’s family. On Friday she took me to the train station and I started the Amtrak adventure. First stop: San Francisco. After little less then 24-hours I was off to LA to spend a day and a half with my little brother Kevin. This morning I arrived in Flagstaff, AZ by train from LA to be picked up by a groggy Doug (My mom’s husband) for the drive to their home in Prescott AZ. Three train legs, four different beds, five car trips, four diner eggs and beacon breakfast in a row, 1,500 miles, and not a clean piece of cloths to call my own. So ends a week and a half of travel and starts a two week stay with mom. You have to love mom!

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[Jenny]

SF Bordello and Saturday Night
Inquiring minds want to know, as does Rebecca. She's been eagerly waiting for a blog entry on Saturday night's adventures