Last week I did something I had never done in America other than as a commuter in the DC area. I took the train. San Luis Obisbo, Calif. to Spokane. Thirty-two hours on a train, the price was very affordable, with a hint of adventure.
The process in California was a new experience. I consider myself a seasoned traveler, especially by air. I know how to get from “Terminal 5/International Arrivals” to “Terminal 1/Domestic Departure” in London. But polite service from the ticket agent, and being able to flash him my ticket on my phone was good. No security screening was even better. Then all I had to do was wait next to the track for my train.
The train was 10 minutes late, but I got my seat assignment in the last car second level. Northbound was the way I wanted to go, but the train switched back and forth climbing from the coast up into the California hills.
It was late afternoon, with the sun setting over the ocean as we slowly made our way towards San Francisco. The seats were plenty roomy with nearly full reclining capability and leg rests like in your living room. My seatmate was pleasant but on the larger side, which made the seats all the more important.
Once we climbed the hills I made my way through the train to the observation car. A train is basically 7-10 airplanes connected to one another, with space for hundreds. This train was not near capacity, so I was able to find a booth all to myself with a table and nearly 360 degrees of viewing opportunity. The countryside rolled by as the sun went down. I found myself constantly distracted from my reading by the scenery outside of my window.
Sometime after dinner, I found two guys watching the Oregon/Ohio State national title game live on their iPad; this is 2015 after all. That night I found a vacant set of seats and enjoyed a very pleasant sleep. The entire next day was spent making our way through the Cascade Mountains. Every snow covered peak and fresh flowing creek worthy of a postcard.
I stayed away from the dining car food and prices, eating what I had in my backpack. Rolling through the Willamette Valley I was treated to lush green sod farms and numerous flocks of sheep. The train arrived in Portland on time, leaving me an hour to sit in a 100-year-old station on wooden benches with stone floors and nothing to do. The train took about the same time a car would to get to Spokane. It was 30 minutes early, which was a surprise. I think I chose the best time for this route, as I encountered a change in the seasons leaving California in the 70s and getting to Spokane in the 20s. I wouldn’t want to take the train every week, but I recommend it at least once.
Phil Kiver is a Cheney High School and Eastern Washington University graduate. He is currently a visiting professor at the University of California at Santa Barbara.
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