Government Shut Down

During my train trip, I talked with people about the effects of the 36-day government shutdown that began on December 21. The national parks, for example, remained open but without their usual staffing. This resulted in a scandalous array of brimming trashcans, overflowing toilets, and trespassing on the nation's public lands. As a rule, the parks are highly regulated in order to protect their beauty and the patrons who visit them. However, some 16,000 parks service employees were furloughed and only a small number of them were available for policing and security, according to the National Parks Conservation Association (NPCA). The above notice appeared at the entrance gate of the Colorado National Monument where Bobbie, Martin, and I visited in Grand Junction.




The Trump administration did not close the national parks because it wanted to avoid the same kind of criticism doled out to the Obama administration during the 2013  government shutdown, namely, that businesses near the parks would suffer. As a result, former Department of Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke issued a policy document in January 2018 that the parks should continue to operate during any “lapse in appropriations,” such as a funding hold seen during shutdowns. Unfortunately, the influx of tourists was too much for the park staff that did show up, and much damage was done, some of it deliberate. 

The worst instance of this damage was Joshua Tree National Park in southern California, where "irreparable" damage was done including vandalism, ruined trails and trees cut down, said former superintendent Curt Sauer. He retired in 2010 after running the park for seven years.

“What’s happened to our park in the last 34 days is irreparable for the next 200 to 300 years,” he said, according to a report from the Desert Sun.

The Colorado National Monument in Grand Junction did not suffer the same fate. Like many volunteers at other parks, the people of the Grand Junction cleaned up the trash. Public toilets had also been locked.

In another instance, Bobbie and I were seated  with a mother and her three-year-old daughter. The mother was a federal employee for Health and Human Services and working without being payed. Her job entailed buying health insurance for Native American tribes. She said she was handling some difficult cases where people had life threatening diseases. If they didn’t get the health care the agency provided for them, they would die. In fact, her bosses had managed to juggle their funding so that the people continued to receive care. However, she said this care would only last two more weeks before the emergency funding would run out.

“I wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of those above me,” she said. “They have been scrambling to keep the programs going.”

The woman also said that she and her fellow employees in critical care situations would be given a partial payment of their salaries on Friday. (As it turns out, the shutdown ended on Friday night.)

The woman had apparently saved some money to take care of her family’s needs even though her husband, also a federal employee for the Defense Department, was not getting paid either. Her daughter’s day care costs $200 per week. The woman seemed pretty calm about her situation and admitted to being a resourceful person who was strong enough to get through anything. Even so, the shutdown posed a particular challenge for her. 

She had taken the train because she couldn’t afford to fly. She was going to her brother's funeral to Green River, CO, where she would leave her daughter with her mother.

The woman revealed that she was a Native American with a doctorate in psychology and married to a white man. She said she knew Nathan Phillips, the Native American Marine Corps veteran who had made the news earlier that week when he and his fellow demonstrators were harassed by white teenagers from a boys' Catholic school in Covington, Kentucky. She was incensed with the treatment he received.

On my flight back to France, I asked a TSA inspector is she thought there were be another shut down on February 15 (which meant that she would have to work without pay again).

"I don't think so," she said. "The last one didn't work out very well. I don't think they'll try that again."

Amtrak employees were not affected by the shut down because Amtrak is a privately-run company that receives government subsidies.

Meet You at the Junction -- Grand Junction, Colorado

  

In 1983, Bobbie and I took a two-week camping trip out West as far as Yellowstone National Park. When we were in Wyoming, we saw two gray-haired women riding together in a car. We said that someday, that would be us. That day has arrived only we took the train! 

I had already planned on my way eastward to spend the weekend in Grand Junction where Bobbie lives. Instead, she decided to board the westbound train and come with me to San Francisco. Then we would ride eastward back to Grand Junction together. We made these connections via cell phone technology, which I have to admit is amazing!!

The train arrived in Grand Junction on Tuesday, January 22 about 7 p.m., just in time for dinner. Bobbie boarded the train, and we spent the next four hours talking.

The next morning, the diner server, Gerard, seated Bobbie and me together for breakfast without any of the other passengers. There weren’t that many people on the train, so he had the space. He figured we'd want to catch up with each other and he did us this favor. Reesy, the other server, took our photo together with her cell phone and sent it to me so that I could post it on FaceBook. (I am constantly amazed at the good service Amtrak employees provide.)

We rode the train together through Utah, Nevada, and the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California before we reached Emeryville, a small city outside of San Francisco that serves as the end of the line for the California Zephyr. 

While we waited for the hotel shuttle, I saw a lot of Uber pick-ups and drop-offs at the curb. This is the new reality in America (and all over the world). Taxis are out and Uber and Lyft are in. The taxis fought these two Internet-connected companies in a law suit, but lost. Now travelers with a cell phone can easily call for a ride--and it will be there in about 10 minutes. There is no exchange of money because it is all done online by credit card. This is a marvelous and convenient system of travel! (I tried it in Kalamazoo and was exceedingly pleased.)

After we arrived in our room at the Hilton Gardens, which is almost on the Bay, we took a look out the window and we could see the Oakland shipyard with its large, giraffe-like cranes, the Golden Gate Bridge with bumper-to-bumper headlights of cars, and downtown San Francisco. It was still light, but it looked as though we were about to have a glorious sunset, so we immediately left our room for a short walk along the shore to see it. We found a small park with the water at a muddy low tide. The air was fresh with just a little hint of a seaside smell. The expanse of the city on the Bay was magnificent. We had finally reached the western coastline of our country and "dipped our toe" in the water of its furthest point. It felt good to be there, to stretch our legs, and to share this time together as friends for over 45 years.

After a few photos of the sunset, we crossed the four-lane, palm-tree-lined street in search of a restaurant. All that we could find, however, was a Shell gas station and Chevy’s Mexican Restaurant. If we had walked a bit further, we would have seen a few more places, but I’m glad we ended up at Chevy’s.

Bobbie treated me to a mango marguerita (she had a peach one), and we ordered salads for dinner since we were still full from lunch on the train. There were about three groups who were celebrating birthday parties for their young children. Four staff members gathered round each table and sang happy birthday as they beat on their tambourines. It appeared that the adults had more fun than the kids.

What struck me the most about this restaurant was the diversity of people there—both servers and customers: race, ethnicity, and age. To me, especially in this Trumpian era where racism, white male supremacy, and general close-mindedness have reared their ugly heads, we witnessed an example of what America really is all about. People were happy, respectful, and enjoying the food, fun, and each other. I recalled Rodney King’s question: “Can we all get along”? The short answer is yes, we can, and dinner at Chevy's proves it.

On Thursday morning we were up before 6:30. We decided not to pay for a $17 breakfast at the hotel so Bobbie went to the Shell gas station and bought me a croissant and herself a tart. We had coffee with the Keurig in our room. It was a sufficient repast until we boarded our 9:10 a.m. train departure. 

While we were at the train station, Bobbie exchanged her coach tickets to join me in my roomette. This meant she was also able to get free meals. I didn’t know this could be done; the train staff alerted us to it. Bobbie could be more comfortable with me. Here she is at night in the upper bunk of the roomette. I took the lower bunk.

Bobbie is a bit of an extrovert, and she makes friends quickly. The train has two public spaces where passengers can meet passengers: the Dining Car and the Observation Car. On our trip eastward, Bobbie met a family in the Observation Car that was traveling to Colorado for a birthday celebration. I happened to walk through the car to go to the snack bar and discovered what looked like a big party where people were talking and joking with each other. The family had invited her into their conversation. 

Here are a couple friends Bobbie made in the Observation Car: Kelsey and Carol. She arranged for them to meet us for breakfast.

 





Such interaction is the kind of fun passengers on a long-haul train can have. You meet the most interesting people this way. However, the Diner Car and the Observation Car are now under serious consideration by Amtrak administrators for elimination in order to cut costs. That would truly be a tragedy!

We arrived in Grand Junction at 10:30, just 20 minutes late from our schedule. Martin, Bobbie's husband, picked us up at the train station.

At the Junction
Bobbie and Martin are all about enjoying Nature in its many forms. The couple regularly camps, hikes, and skiies. Although Bobbie used to use a tent in her younger years, she and Martin now have a camper that they pull with a pick-up truck. It has all the comforts of home and allows them to go anywhere anytime, especially now that they are both retired. 

After lunch, we went for a drive to the Colorado National Monument, which is in Bobbie and Martin's "backyard." It was a clear, sunny day and the park hardly had any people in it. The rocks were majestic. Here are some photos of the canyon at the end of the Serpent Trail.

Living in the mountains was the reason Bobbie and Martin moved to Grand Junction. They have easy access to the beauty of the West. Now that they are both retired, they have more time to go on these nature trips. For example, after a planned week's vacation at Glacial National Park in Montana, they spontaneously decided to go to the Washington and Oregon coast for three more weeks. Such is the good life!


Friday night was pizza night. Martin made a delicious pesto pizza and Bobbie made the salad. We ate well. Martin is the couple's chief cook, and he does an excellent job.

Bobbie and Martin have two dogs: Kali and Rosie. They go camping, too.

Kali

Rosie

Saturday Night Crane Watching


Bobbie and Martin had heard that the Sandhill Cranes like to stop off in the cornfields near their home. So we went out to see them--and found them--hundreds of them. They are elegant birds who honk while in flight. Here are some photos of them.

 
Sandhill cranes are fairly social birds that usually live in pairs or family groups throughout the year. During migration and winter, unrelated cranes come together to form "survival groups" that forage and roost together. Such groups often congregate at migration and winter sites, sometimes in the thousands. 












The cranes' flight patterns were equally fascinating. We had hoped to see their mating dance, however, it was not yet the season for it. 

Before this trip I didn't think of myself as having long-term friendships, that is, I am not in contact with my school mates from elementary or high school. On the other hand, seeing friends like Bobbie helped orient me to a new reality. We first met as aspirants to the Nazareth Sisters of St. Joseph in 1974 and have maintained our friendship over the years.  It was very good to see her again and to share the train ride together!

Meditations on the Rails--The Trip Westward

I decided to take a long-haul train trip for the latter part of my six-week vacation in the USA after serving 18 months at the International Centre in Le Puy-en-Velay. My objective: to literally stretch myself over two-thirds of the country in order to give myself space, movement, and time for meditation. 

I spent nine days on the rails from Chicago to San Francisco via the California Zephyr—including a weekend with a friend in Grand Junction, Colorado. I also planned to stay one night in Emeryville, CA, the end of the line, and then head back to Chicago for 2 nights. While this trip would normally cost about $1,000, I got it for free through my Amtrak credit card. I had accumulated 90,000 points over several years and decided to redeem 40,000 points for this trip. I not only got a free train ride, but a sleeper, all my meals, and access to the Metropolitan Lounge at Union Station in Chicago.

The train ride started in Chicago's Union Station, a very special place. The classical architecture of the building is beautiful and gives one a taste of the importance of a bygone era when people largely traveled by train. The glossy floors, marble walls, and high ceilings of the Great Hall signify the importance of Chicago as the central hub of the nation. You walk tall when you walk in Union Station. Today, trains are taken by people with enough time to go where they want to go be it business or pleasure.  

The Zephyr was set to leave the station at 2 p.m. so the first call to Track 16 was at 1:30. Passengers lined up expectantly and waited for the go-ahead. I felt as though I were launching off on a great adventure. After a long walk to the front of the train where the sleeper cars were, I climbed in my roomette and readied myself for a long ride of 2,400 miles. 

 

 

Aleric was my car attendant. He introduced himself with a handshake and a big smile and made himself available to answer any questions. He also made me feel comfortable by  giving directions to the dining car, snack bar, bathrooms, and shower. 

 

Precisely on the hour, the Zephyr slowly lurched forward through the dark tunnel of the station and out into the light of the "White City." 

 

Soon, the Chicago skyline came into view. The train slowly coasted among a dozen tracks, several  warehouses, carriers, and much graffiti on the huge cement walls of the station. It took a long while to get out of the metropolitan area but within a half hour we were on a single track in rural Illinois. I sat and watched the scenery feeling mighty happy to be taking this trip. I am also expectant of a spiritual experience on this trip, of which I'm long overdue. 











Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Eastern Colorado

farm in Illinois

Illinois grain elevator

Illinois sunset

Going through the Plains States is not especially interesting. The flat land that stretches for what feels like a million miles is primarily farmland. During the winter, the fields are more monotonous than in the summer when the tall corn grows. The land has been powdered with snow that covers the ground as looks like milk over shredded wheat. Occasionally, there will be grain elevators to look at or a collection of train cars near cities. Now is a good time to settle down, read, write, and nap because once we get into the mountains, I know I won't be able to take my eyes off the picturesque scenery passing outside my window. Even the Midwestern sunset is unremarkable except for the power lines that stand tall on the plains.

At 8:45 (CST), Aleric came to make my bed. It’s early, but I'm ready to settle in for the night with the hope that I'll sleep well enough to feel refreshed in the morning after a night's worth of rocking over the rails. Other passengers are slowly turning in, too, as if to honor the solemnity of the night with a mutual respect for quiet. A man already in his pajamas is down on his knees, half in and half out of his roomette. He's trying to fix his bed, which is wobbling a bit too much. Aleric assists him. The chug-a-chug of the Zephyr over the tracks and the rumbling sound over crossings now becomes a familiar and soothing white noise that will lull me to sleep. These sounds are only interrupted by the occasional train whistle that blows into the darkness to alert passers-by of the train's presence. All is well with the world tonight.

Tuesday, January 22, 2019

I woke up this morning to a misty view over the hilly plains of Colorado. Between the mist and snow-covered grass (really bushes that I recognized from countless cowboy movies) the land looked like giant waves in the sea, only they were stationary as the train rolled by them. Quite magical! Quite mystical!! Quite dreamlike!!!

I have a full day ahead of me with reading, writing, meditating, and eating. I started out the day with a shower early enough (6:30) to avoid having to wait in line. Hot water and a hand-held nozzle. Ooo-la-la! I felt especially fresh and ready to go, a feeling I get when I take train showers. The space in the shower is small but there is still enough room to maneuver. The train provides towels and soap, so I had precious little to carry with me except my change of clothes. 
 

Gerard

This morning I had more time to talk with Gerard, the dining car server. He is a member of the Zephyr's Team 12 out of Chicago. He works a six-day schedule where he rides the train westward for three days, stays overnight in San Francisco, and heads back to Chicago the next day for another three days. Then he has four days off before he starts another six-day cycle.


Gerard has worked for Amtrak for decades. He is a jokester, something I’ve seen in train servers before. After all, they work all three meals and see many of the same people. 

Gerard's schedule is pretty grueling. He gets up at 4:30 a.m. and heads for the showers before his co-workers get there. Breakfast starts at 7 a.m. so he's in the dining car by 5:30-6 a.m. Lunch is from 11:30 until 2 p.m. Dinner begins at 5:30 and clean-up ends around 9:30 p.m. One meal finishes before he must get ready for the next one. The kitchen is one floor below the dining room so meals are transported via a dumb waiter. 

I find the food on Amtrak to be pretty good, although the choices on the Zephyr are not as varied as on the other long-haul trains I've taken.  The company of the other travelers is usually pretty good, too. Most people who take trains want to interact with other travelers, and conversation involves sharing stories about what one does. Not a lot of in-depth stuff, but a chance to meet interesting people from all walks of life.  

I was a little worried about this trip being cancelled due to the government shutdown. However, Amtrak is a private company subsidized by the U.S. government, so it was not at all affected. In fact, everything was running well, except for the delays caused by freight trains and rail mishaps. About an hour into our journey outside of Chicago, we were delayed a bit because of a signal switching problem. During the evening we were delayed by a freight train that needed a replacement part. We sat on the tracks for two hours until workers found the part, which was 100 miles away. As a result, we are three hours late arriving in Denver. Trains can go faster than they do, but they are not allowed to go over a certain speed limit because the tracks are made for the slower freight trains. Unlike Europe where passenger trains have priority on the tracks, US freight trains have priority. You really understand that on a long-haul trip and need to plan accordingly.

 

Fort Morgan – 8: 30 a.m.

This is one of the stops that Phileas Fogg and Passapartout made on their journey across the USA in the book Around the World in 80 Days. We stopped here for only two minutes since no one got on or off. All I could see was a grain elevator and the odd terrain of row upon row of ruts where something had once been planted, probably corn.

Three deer ran across the train tracks just in time to avoid getting hit. They jumped over the barbed wire fence and onto a grassy field that has not a single tree in sight. What do they do all day, especially in the winter? How do they keep warm?

There are more gradual hills in this area, not nearly as high as they were three hours ago when I first woke up. This is the heartland of America where indigenous peoples once roamed. I wondered how they stayed warm in the winter and what they did all day. Today, the plains play host to beef cattle, horses, and fields of grain; this is the breadbasket of America. 

A billboard on a farm reads in red letters: “God bless the American flag.” Curious. We used to ask God to bless America. Now I guess our country has been reduced to the flag. What mentality is going on here?? This is red-state Colorado, at least this part of it. I recently read an article about fallen-away evangelicals who support Trump because he represents hope in their lost values. Even though this particular population doesn’t go to church, it is seeking a savior they see spouting off what they feel they have lost. It doesn’t seem to matter to them that Trump doesn’t go to church, is twice divorced, has 16 women who accuse him of sexual harassment, and is implicated in criminal behavior with regard to the 2016 election and making money off the federal government after he became president. 

Denver – 10 a.m.

In Colorado, our train route runs parallel to I-70, which goes east-west from Baltimore to Cove Fort, Utah. The Federal Highway Administration has claimed the section of I-70 through  Glenwood Canyon was completed in 1992, and the last piece of the Interstate Highway System, as originally planned. The construction of I-70 in Colorado and Utah is considered an engineering marvel, as the route passes through the Eisenhower Tunnel, Glenwood Canyon, and the San Rafael Swell. The Eisenhower Tunnel is the highest point along the Interstate Highway System, with an elevation of 11,158 ft (3,401 m).  The system is named for President Dwight D. Eisenhower (1953-61), who championed its formation through the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956.

Just before we entered the Denver railyard, the “Denver Pioneer Cemetery” appeared. There were several hundred headstones of the same type surrounding an American flag and a statue of a Civil War-era soldier. It must have been the veterans’ section of the cemetery, but I was too slow to get a shot of it. Zut alors!

 

 



We finally reached Denver, three hours behind schedule. This is also a smoke stop since we are planted here for about 30 minutes. It’s the first stop of the day so smokers must have been going crazy by now.

The industries in Colorado are beef cattle, grain, oil, tourism, and now computer technology. You can see some of this economy at the train yards where there are large grain elevators, stockyards, and oil refineries. 

multiple train tracks outside of Denver illustrate its industrial importance

In order to get to Union Station, we must move the train forward and then back into it. (On the way out of the city, we reverse this move.) We have been on a freight line and are now switching to the passenger line. Those who are getting off in Denver must wait until this process is completed, but it doesn’t take but 10 minutes. That gives me a chance to see a little bit of the downtown area, too. 

According to the woman I talked to at breakfast, Denver is a fairly new town (established in 1858). Nevertheless, there has been a lot of renovation of the downtown area—just like so many other old towns, including Kalamazoo.

  Near the train station is the Colorado Rockies baseball stadium and a new apartment building across from the stadium. Both of these structures probably replaced old, abandoned warehouses or factories. 

 

















Next to our train is a light rail train. Numerous city buses also converge at the train station, which provides the city's central bus, train, and light rail station.

Denver is known as “the mile-high city.” Approaching it from the east, the only hint of an approaching altitude are the rolling hills on fairly flat plains. However, these hills represent a gradual, imperceptible climb upward. Upon entering the city, I witnessed my first sighting of the blue, snow-capped Rocky Mountains. Upon leaving the city, you see how high you have actually traveled.

The train left Denver and started moving into higher altitudes. One of my favorite periods in American history is the pioneers’ movement westward. They undoubtedly followed this same route that snakes through mountain passes as it continually moves upward. On the lower lands there are a couple windmills, a ranch, a salt garage, more trees—pine trees—and they are everywhere. Even the snow doesn’t take away from their beauty; in fact, it enhances it, something I didn’t expect. I feel as though I’m in the middle of a snowy globe with the trees.

We pass through several tunnels that were blasted out of the rock, something the pioneers didn’t have the benefit of, obviously. The slant of several out-cropped rock is at a 45-degree angle, and it’s reddish-yellow. All of a sudden, we are in the mountains!! My ears are popping.

   

Traveling in the winter is not as bad as I expected because the scenery has a different quality to it. While things are not green (except the pine trees), the brown grasses, red rocks, and dirt mounds underneath the snow poke through in picturesque ways. I can’t keep my eyes from looking out the window—or my camera from snapping photos. Nature is so amazing! I turned off my computer and just looked out the window. The present moment is the mountains and streams before me. The computer can wait. Every turn of the corner reveals something new, something interesting, something to behold. Look and learn. I am once again reminded of my privilege to be on this trip and to see the majestic beauty of God’s creation. How did all of this get here? How did it all form? How can we preserve it? The first step, however, is to see it and love it on its own. 

I was especially fascinated by the river that ran next to the train tracks. Here is the river in its many forms.

 

I am reminded of artist Georgia O’Keefe’s love of the West, specifically New Mexico, and her depictions of things different that others might miss. I’m trying to do the same with my camera. Rock formations, interesting icy river shapes, colors, panoramas, outcroppings, layers of sedimentary rocks. Frankly, I am moved by the majesty of God’s hand in all of this. At one point I saw a bald eagle flying over the river and through the canyon. I also saw its nest. Fortunately, the train was moving slowly enough as if to give us a tour. I thank Amtrak for that! 

I do photograph a few man-made structures to show how clever engineers were in creating them in the mountains or to illustrate how small we are in comparison to Creation. 

During lunch we passed through the Moffat Tunnel, one of the three longest in the USA. The conductor gave us a little history on the tunnel. It was started in 1903 and finished in 1928. David Moffat designed it, but died in 1911. The tunnel is three miles deep at its center, which is the highest altitude in this area measuring 9,260 feet high, which marks the Continental Divide. It takes 9.5 minutes for the train to travel through the 6.2 mile-long tunnel that goes through 3,000 feet of solid rock. Engineers who built the tunnel started at each end and met in the middle. They were only a few inches off at the center, which was an amazing feat at a time when measuring tools were not as accurate as they are today. 


While the train was stopped in Denver, I received word from my friend, Bobbie, that would board the train in Grand Junction and ride with me to San Francisco. We arrived at the Junction at 7 p.m., just in time for her to join me for dinner. What a great surprise!


Wednesday, January 23, 2019

The toilets don’t work and the shower has no towels. It has been quite a frustrating morning. The attendant eventually found more towels and I took a shower later that morning. He also suggested that we use the toilets in the next sleeping car, which are working. Well, this is a 40-year-old train and sometimes things just don’t work. (The temperature controls in my roomette don’t function either.)

The good news was that Gerard let Bobbie and I were able to sit together alone at breakfast. There weren’t many people on the train, so there was enough space. Gerard also wanted to do us this favor. Reesy, the other server in the dining car,  took our photo together with her cell phone and sent it to me so that I could post it on FaceBook. 

Guests in the dining car are seated together as part of the Amtrak's practice of promoting interaction among passengers in the public spaces of the train. This is indeed a good thing because you can meet people you're traveling with in an easy way.  

 Nevada

This morning we woke up to the barrenness of the Mojave Desert in Nevada. There was no snow but rather many places with white stuff appeared on the ground. It was salt. This area was once covered by a great sea and the salt remains. 

Before European contact, Native Americans of the Paiute, Shoshone, and Washoe tribes inhabited the land that is now Nevada. The first Europeans to explore the region were Spanish. They called the region Nevada (snowy) because of the snow that covered the mountains in winter.  

The Mormons were the first white settlers in Nevada founding  modern-day Genoa in 1851. Others were driven to endure the hardships of the land by their search for silver, which was discovered in June 1859.  The "Comstock lode," named after Henry Comstock, part-owner of the property where silver was discovered, was one of the largest silver finds in America. 

The city that grew as a result of the silver mines became known as Carson City (southwestern corner on the map). Silver was the core of the economy for more than 30 years and attracted enough settlers that Nevada became the USA's 36th state on October 31, 1864. However, it was wealthy Californian financiers who benefited the most from the profits of the silver mines. 

The fictitious Cartwright family lived on a ranch called the Ponderosa near Lake Tahoe. The famous opening scene of Bonanza was filmed on location at North Lake Tahoe near Incline Village. 

Between 1951-92, U.S. scientists tested 1,021 nuclear bombs at the Nevada Test Site, 75 miles northeast of Las Vegas within the Mojave Desert. Out of these tests, 100 were atmospheric, and 921 were underground. Each explosion deposited a toxic load of radioactivity into the ground and, in some cases, directly into aquifers.

I was able to capture a picturesque scene of horses grazing in Nevada near its boundary with California. I was about to enter a new world completely different from everything else I’d seen or experienced on the trip.

Sierra Nevada Mountains

The Sierra Nevada Mountains were for me the pinnacle of the entire train ride. We had clear and sunny day, which made the view all the more beautiful. The mountains were covered with a thick layer of snow, most of it untouched. Some of the snow gathered on rounded rocks and looked “fuzzy,” while other snow made impressions on its tops due to the uneven ground underneath. The pine trees—I’ve never seen so many pine trees—had snow globs attached to them to make for a pretty sight. The train made a slow, almost scenic drive through the mountains. And the “show” was different with every new turn. It was absolute beauty and a perfect day.

One highlight of the the mountains was ironically serene Donner Lake, named after the Donner Party of 1846-47. It was in this area that the westward settlers would endure a terrible tragedy as delays and mishaps kept them from crossing the mountains before the snows set in and prevented them from finding enough food. Some of the settlers were so desperate from hunger that they resorted to cannibalism to survive. Of the 87 who set out on the journey, only 48 survived it.

I think what gets me the most when we crossed these vast, open expanses of the mountains was their majesty and immensity. Mountains are symbolically seen as the place where the gods live. Seeing the Sierra Nevadas and being among them is nothing short of mystical. I felt this same feeling at Macchu Picchu in Peru, which is in the Andes Mountains. As a life-long resident of southern Michigan where the land is pretty flat, I am particularly moved and inspired by mountains both in their formation and in the presence they impose on the earth.

  

California
As the train moved into beautiful California with its moderate climate, rich soils, and wealthy global economy, one of America's modern tragedies appeared: poverty and homelessness. These photos illustrate the inventiveness of the human spirit, but they also illustrate how the people that are left behind in our society leave their mark on our society.

San Francisco



After we arrived in our room at the Hilton Gardens, we took a look out the window at beautiful San Francisco at dusk. We faced the bay and could see the Oakland shipyard with its large, giraffe-like cranes, a bridge with the bumper-to-bumper traffic, and downtown San Francisco. We immediately left our room for a short walk along the shore to see the glorious sunset. 

Oakland shipyard

 We found a small park with the shoreline at a muddy low tide. The air was fresh with just a hint of a seaside smell. The complex expanse of the city on the bay was magnificent. We had finally reached the western coastline of our country. It felt good to be there, to stretch our legs, and to share this time together as friends of 45 years. 

 
 
After a few photos, we made our way across the four-lane, palm-tree lined street in search of a restaurant. All that we could see was a Shell gas station and Chevy’s Mexican Restaurant. If we had walked a bit further, we would have found a few more restaurant choices, however, I’m glad we landed at Chevy’s. It was a loud, joy-filled place filled to capacity with people of all ages, races, and ethnicities. Bobbie treated me to a mango marguerita (she had peach), and we had salads since we were still full from lunch on the train. There were about three tables there to celebrating birthday parties for their young children. The staff sang happy birthday to them with singing and tambourines. It appeared that the adults had more fun with this than the kids.

Bobbie and I settled in early for the night. Tomorrow and the days that followed would bring new sights and adventures.