The Coast Starlight

February/March 2004

Monday, March 1

Inside the Salem station

Train 11 was scheduled to depart Salem at about 3:45pm. A call to Amtrak at 2:55 indicated that the train was running 28 minutes late. Since my mother’s house is only about ten minutes away, we felt we could safely leave home about 15 minutes later than planned. We arrived at the station at 3:30, and checked our bags. The weather was the nicest we’ve seen in Salem in awhile, so we waited outdoors.

A stitched composite photo of the Salem platform. The view is about 90 degrees from left to right.

At 3:53 there was an announcement that trains 11 and 14 were both close enough that they didn’t know which would arrive first. I was hoping 14 would come first, so I would have some extra photo ops, but it was not to be. Number 11 came in almost straight up at 4:00.

Video Clip: Train 11 arrives in Salem WMV format, 812kb, 1min 6 sec. Look closely and you can see the engineer wave!

Terry greeted us at the door of car 1131, named Maryland. Our room was just inside, on the platform side of the car, so we sat for a minute and waved at the family outside. Terry informed us that he had arranged a dinner table for us at 6:30. Just as we started rolling the conductor came by to take our tickets.

A few minutes later we passed #14 at a siding called “Renard,” next to the Salem airport. We then cruised gently through the lush rolling hills south of town.

Across the Willamette River between Salem and Albany	A short distance past the bridge, green grass.

4:18pm: “UP detector, Milepost 710.0, no defects, total axles 48, train speed 63 mph. Detector out.”

Musical SoundTrack

At 4:38 we had a three minute stop in Albany. We were growing thirsty, so we decided to go to the Parlour Car for some sodas. To our joy and delight we found a pair of bluegrass musicians, he with a banjo, she with a guitar, leading everyone in a sing-along of my favorite train song, The City of New Orleans. We already knew the words, so we joined in before we sat down. The attendant (whose name I do not recall) brought us some sodas on ice.

Over the course of the next hour we got to know our entertainers a little better. Their names were Robert and Suzanne. They were from the Santa Cruz mountains, and we informed them that we were from the Monterey Peninsula. At one point they mentioned they were looking for a mandolin player, and as it turns out, my boss is one.

Modern technology is a wonderful thing. After a little discussion, I whipped out my cell phone and called my boss. He and Robert had a little chat, and exchanged contact information. Since that day they have had additional communications, but as of the date of this writing, they haven’t connected in person yet. However, opportunities may yet present themselves.

Travel time through the Willamette valley was a little on the slow side, and we arrived in Eugene at 6:22. We excused ourselves to wash up for dinner, and we were soon called to enter the diner at 6:30, after dark.

Passengers board in Eugene	Heidi with "Buttercup" in the window, Terry at the door

Dinner in the diner

We were seated with an older couple. The wife was another Suzanne, and the husband was Al. This was their first Amtrak trip, and they seemed to be enjoying it.

But there was something I found curious. We began talking about the land we would be passing through. I indicated that we were beginning to climb the Cascades mountains, and that on their return trip they would see it in daylight. I also mentioned the Sacramento River gorge, which can only be seen in daylight northbound if the train is late.

Suzanne then said. “Maybe we should have taken an earlier train. There must be others we could take to see these things.” She was clearly under the impression that interstate trains run on a frequent departure schedule, like the airlines. When I informed her that there was only one train per day in each direction, she was quite surprised.

But I have found such beliefs are not all that uncommon. Contrary to the opinions of many, the average Amtrak rider is not a “railfan” seeking a nostalgic travel experience, but just someone who wants to get someplace comfortably and efficiently. Most of them are completely unaware that Amtrak has been a political football tossed around the halls of Washington DC for the last three decades, and has come perilously close to oblivion on several occasions. If more of these travelers spoke up to their Congresscritters, perhaps they would finally get off their collective behinds and actually do something to improve rail transportation in this country.

During dinner it was dark outside, and we were passing through some pretty remote mountains. Every now and then I would become a little disoriented, for it was difficult to tell from sensory evidence which direction we were going. At one point the vertigo problem kicked in for just a brief moment. When we passed Oakridge at 7:22, I was able to get some bearings again.

Meanwhile, on the plate I was enjoying some bacon wrapped turkey medallions. They were pretty tasty, but they had a tendency to dry out a bit as I progressed through them. Still, they were quite filling, requiring that Heidi and I split dessert again.

Our confection of choice was cheesecake. Much to my delight, they were no longer serving the pale, bland stuff of years past. It was not among the best I’ve ever had, but it was pretty decent. I’m pretty fussy about cheesecake, so if I liked it, it must have been good. I mentioned my satisfaction to our server. She agreed it was an improvement.

Evening

At 7:45 we were finished with dinner and sitting comfortably back in our room. We needed some time to read up on California ballot propositions, for we would be voting tomorrow.

At 8:10pm we reached a detector at milepost 557.3, but we entered a tunnel which blocked the transmitted report. Outside there was quite a bit of snow on the ground, gently illuminated by the light emanating from our train’s windows.

8:42pm "UP detector, milepost 541.8, no defects, total axles 48, train speed 34mph. Detector out."

That was the last detector report we heard for the night, for greater excitement awaited us. Seeking more refreshment, we returned to the Parlour Car at 8:45. To our delight, Robert and Suzanne (the first one) were back at it again, this time joined by a teenager who had his own guitar. For the next two and a half hours we sang our way to Klamath Falls and beyond.

At Chemult I took a time out and went back to our room to retrieve my camera. When I returned I found Heidi and Robert dancing up a storm!

During the evening, I made a mental note of no real importance. Years ago, in the pre-Superliner days, I spent many a winter traveling this route. I used to gauge the outside temperature by feeling the glass. You can't do that on a Superliner, which has double pane insulated glass. But in the Parlour Car, which comes from an earlier era, you still can.

Moonlight at bedtime

We were in Klamath Falls at 11:00. Within half an hour or so things began to wind down in the Parlour Car. We headed to bed. Again, Heidi took the upper bunk, while I sat up with a book. Chapter finished, I turned out the light and, behold, a magical wonder unfolded before my eyes.

The moon was almost full and revealed a soft white landscape outside the darkened room. First I saw a meadow, dotted with an occasional pine tree, backed by tall hills. Before long new vistas opened up as we turned from a southwestern direction to a more southerly heading. We were above the valley northwest of the town of Weed. The valley was coated with a layer of thick fog, which lay like a fluffy comforter over a matching blanket of unspoiled snow. In the distance, the black outline of jagged peaks were framed by clinging puffs of cloud.

Above me the clouds were having trouble staying organized as moonlight and starlight competed for the airspace. Now and then we'd skirt the edge of the fog layer and the haze would partially obscure the scene for a few minutes at a time. As we rounded curves, I could see a line of green dots, lights on the sides of the following Superliners, a bold accent of color snaking through the black and white landscape.

If I wanted to get dressed again I probably could have gone to a window the other side of the car to see Mt. Shasta, which no doubt was even more spectacular. But now I was ready to put my head down for good.