The Long Day Westbound
I don't remember where exactly I awoke, somewhere between Devil's Lake and Rugby, I think. I tracked down Paul, who'd gone to the Club Car, and we went to breakfast. On Amtrak, they'll seat you with other people at meals, and we were seated with a couple of other Framebuilders' Express guys heading to the NAHBS. One of the nice things about Amtrak is the completely different pace: on airplanes, if you are lucky enough to get a meal, you get tossed a compartmented tray with some bits of food on it which you eat with your elbows carefully tucked in and drink your small cup of coffee. On the train, you get a menu from which you choose your selections (I had the pancakes, as I recall, Paul the Greek omelet with feta cheese), can add bacon or sausage, juice and coffee with copious refills. You sit there with the big huge window and watch the world roll by as you eat this meal.
The food isn't gourmet-quality, but it's pretty good. There's lots of room, plenty of coffee and the chance for conversation. We're eight hours into a 36-hour trip here, there's no rush to get done!
Morning Has Broken: Minot
Not too long after breakfast we rolled into Minot, North Dakota. This was a service stop, where they'd refuel, change engine crew (the car attendants went the distance along with us), drop off some garbage, etc. It's about a 20 minute stop and you can hop off the train. So off we went! Now, Minot's not the end of the world, but you can see if from there, and it can get bloody cold out. Happily, it was a relatively balmy 24 or something like that (I had my brand new Apple iPod Touch along and could get stray free wi-fi signals in some of these towns and update my weather page, which still has Minot on it) and we strolled around the Minot train station a bit. An Amtrak guy came out with a propane torch and began playing the flames on some pipes under our sleeper car. I asked the conductor guy what it was--it was the waste pipes, which can freeze up on these cold runs. Eww, I thought, that's going to be gruesome when it thaws out!
While we were standing there some water began running out of the train car and onto the tracks, not too fast, like a garden hose maybe. I looked at this quizzically but Paul said it was just someone taking a shower, and that the water from the shower just drained onto the tracks. There was a time in my living memory when English train toilets would just drain onto the tracks and you were admonished not to pee while in the station; these modern trains have holding tanks for the waste but the shower water isn't too filthy and just drains out.
Here's Owen Lloyd having a quick smoke in Minot. There isn't any smoking on the train itself, so if you crave some tobaccy you have to wait until the train stops somewhere long enough to leap out and have a puff. It's pretty clear here that the Empire Builder is a two-level train; the lower level has most of the bathrooms, the shower, the carry-on baggage racks, the handicapped-access compartment and the family room, a four-bed, full-width room of which there's only one per car. Upstairs are the regular Bedrooms and Roomettes, a single bathroom, and a refreshment station with ice, water, juice and coffee.
The Amtrak site will tell you that the Sleepers include newspapers. I had envisioned USA Today, which I only ever read in hotels when I find it outside my door in the morning, bleary-eyed from a late night of samply the delights of cable television, which we don't have at home. Nope. It was instead the Minot Daily News. As we left town Paul and then I spent a satisfying half hour catching up on the hot regional news stories from north central North Dakota. There was much talk about Minot State University and its budget problems, and a mention in the article by the school's President about how high school graduating classes in the area communities had been getting smaller over the years. This is a pretty remote part of a remote state, and I wondered about the community ties and social fabric of the area as we moved westward over the plains. Maybe this was better than USA Today.
Lunch, Havre & The Wine Tasting
These guys came from a bicycle shop in Chicago. They sounded pretty enthusiastic about some frame ideas they had and I gathered that they worked with a racing team or club. Here they show off one of the Bilenky Framebuilders Express t-shirts.
Stopped in Havre, Montana. I was in the Club Car when we pulled in. The photo on the left is along the upstairs part of the Club Car, the part with the view. Downstairs was a small cafe that sold canned drinks and sandwiches and stuff for those not interested in paying up for the Dining Car, and also a bit of seating. The view is way better up top, though. While stopped, I leapt out with the smokers for a breath of fresh air and quick stroll up and down in front of the station. You can get on and off from all the cars (except the Club and Dining Cars) so it's possible to get off on one and get back on another when they call the "All Aboard" right before leaving.
Somewhere along here I took a shower. The Roomettes don't have their own shower (the Bedrooms do) but there is a shower on the lower level of the Sleeper Car. It's pretty nice, actually, with a small room to change in and then the shower itself. The small room has a stack of dry towels and a laundry hamper for the wet ones. You push a button and the shower starts and runs for quite a long time, plenty of time to lather up and rinse off and admire the hole in the floor through which the water is draining as the ground rushes by at 80mph. As you go through a curve or speed up or slow down, the water will all slosh to one side of the shower, then come sloshing back over the hole which makes a suction noise like the little spit vacuum at the dentist's office. I was standing there trying to figure out if the water would shut itself off when it finally did. I dried off, dumped my towel in the basket, got dressed and went back up into the car. Can't do that on an airplane!
After Havre there was a Wine & Cheese Tasting for those in the Sleeper Cars. Like Paul said, the Sleepers are like First Class to Amtrak. We were seated with the couple in the photo on the left. The tasting was four cheeses and four accompanying wines. Towards the end of the event they had a trivia contest, with the correct answers getting a bottle of wine. The first question was, "Who was the Empire Builder?". Well heck, I'm from Saint Paul, it was of course James J. Hill. Bingo! I won a bottle of 14 Hands Chardonnay, which the Amtrak staff guys kindly put in the fridge so we could have it witn dinner. The photos above are of the couple we shared a table with, and of a couple of the Bilenky crew, including the fetching Bina, of whom more later.
In Which We Eat Dinner and Have Bum Thrown Off The Train
If you're eating in the Dining Car for dinner, Amtrak recommends reservations. Figuring that we'd be sated with the wine and cheese from the Tasting, Paul and I signed up for the 7:30 seating, the last time slot. Remember, this is the train, it's not like there's somewhere else to go!
The train rumbles along pretty close to the Canadian border in northern Montana. North Dakota and Montana are both pretty sizeable states, and it takes all day to cross them. I spent a while up in the Club Car around dusk, along with others heading to the NAHBS. There are some isolated mountains along the border visible from the train, and they went by around sunset, a dramatic scene. Here Alan takes a photo of Haystack Butte out the window as we roll along, having a beer. We're coming up on Shelby, Montana, at this point, and these buttes off to the north lie right along the Canadian border, about 30 miles away.
Dinner time finally came and Paul and I went to eat. A couple of the Roark guys were at another table but it was already full, and Paul and I were seated with some guy. We tried to make conversation, but he seemed a bit simple. He was moving to Seattle from New York. He'd heard it was nice. He liked both the Indianapolis Colts (whose hat he had on) and the New York Jets (his sweatshirt). He looked at the menu and then pulled a little paper envelope out like you get from the bank teller when you withdraw money, and carefully counted his bills. He decided he could afford a hamburger and Coke and ordered these. Conversation flagged; he would answer a question, but then it stalled.
Not the guy across the aisle, though. He was a scruffy-looking character. He heard me say I was from Saint Paul. You live near the Zoo? he asked loudly. Yeah, pretty close, I answered. Do you think Polar Bears make good neighbours? he asked, loudly again. What the heck, I engaged: They keep the seals in their place, I said. This went on, broken up with bouts of swearing loudly (despite the presence of a girl of about 8 at another table) and trying to order two entrees ("I want the lamb shanks and the beef" "Sir, that's two entrees" says the waiter, "Just put 'em on one plate"). It's one of those conversations that I wish I had recorded, it was so unconventional in its path. The end came when he asked me what I thought about something, something political I think. Regretting having engaged, I just said, Oh, I prefer not to think. You don't like to think?! Why not! Well, I said, if I think too hard it just gets depressing. Depressed, huh? Have you ever tried to commit suicide?
At this point the waiter came up to me and said, Is this gentleman bothering you? Yeah, I said, he's a bit annoying. The waiter turned and told the guy that he'd have to leave. A conductor appeared as well. The conversation was now between the Amtrak staff and our fellow diner. Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the Dining Car. You can't tell me to do that! Yes, I can, I'm the Conductor and I'm in charge of the train. Well screw that, don't you know who I am? Another official materialized, there was a bit of walkie-talkie chatter, and they escorted the guy out of the car.
The waiter appeared again. Sorry about all that, he said. What will happen to him? We've called the police and they'll meet us at the next stop. He'll be removed from the train. The next stop was going to be West Glacier, Montana. How we get to his destination? I asked. Not our problem, said the waiter, but it won't be by train. He added that the guy had been a problem earlier in the day, following a woman to the bathroom and smoking in one of the bathrooms. He'd been drunk. There had been complaints by others. Our tablemate finished his meal, examined his bill ($9.75) and paid with a ten, leaving a quarter for his tip. The waiter wasn't around, so I collected the quarter and put a couple of dollars on the table instead. Not sure what the Jets/Colts fan was going to do in Seattle, but best of luck to him.
The train stopped, our guy was removed from the train, and we carried on. Paul and I had dessert and polished off the bottle of wine I'd won at the wine tasting. We went back to the Club Car and hung out for a while.
Here Paul has that smug "Don't give me any crap or I'll have you thrown off the train" look on his face.
Although we were undoubtedly going through spectacular scenery at this point, you couldn't see much in the dark. Whitefish came and went, and eventually we turned in. It took a while to go to sleep. I'd look out the window and see pine trees going by. At one point there was a loud thump and then a sustained scraping sound. I actually put my glasses on and peered out the window, half expecting to see sparks or flames reflected off the passing snowbanks, but nothing was visible, and I lay back down and fell asleep.
A Rude Awakening
I was awakened in the dark. I could just make out the conductor in the doorway. Gentlemen, gentlemen, are you awake? Yeah, I said, in that way sleepy people do who for some reason feel guilty for having been asleep. Gentlemen, we have a mechanical problem with the sleeper car and you have a choice to make. OK. This car is going to have to go to Seattle for repairs. You can stay on here and go to Seattle, and we'll put you on a train from there to Portland, or you can take your things and move to a coach car and go directly to Portland, just not on a sleeper. I thought about this for a second; Seattle wouldn't be bad; we'd see the route there, and then the Columbia Gorge route on the way home. Kind of a nice loop. What about the bicycles, I asked, where are they going? They'll be going to Portland, he said. Oh, well, maybe we'll go to Portland as well. Sounds good, said Paul, from the upper bunk. He didn't have to worry about bicycles, his was carry-on. What time is it? I asked the conductor. About 2 AM, and we're in Spokane. Be careful, he said, we've been unhooked from the train and have no power, so there's no lights.
I opened the curtain and let in some light from the rail yard. There was another Amtrak train a couple of tracks over. It was probably ours. I got dressed and went into the dark hallway. There were a number of people staggering to their feet. I walked up to the front of the car and looked out; the rest of the train was gone. The attendant guy came up and said they'd be moving the train back to hook up to us and give us some power. I took the photo of the train moving through the snow in Spokane as they got moved the rest of it around. It pulled forward, then backed slowly up to our car and gently bumped into it. A rail worker hooked up some wires, and the lights came on. We were instructed to gather downstairs and make sure to take everything with us. I got my camera bag, put on my jacket and hat, and gathered the panniers from the carry-on baggage racks. The train backed up a bit and we all got off and walked back along the platform in the wet snow. A bank sign up one of the streets said it was 25 degrees and 2:40. There was some confusion about which cars to get on. Paul ended up on one, me on another, and an attendant whispered that I should find a seat. I walked back through the darkened Coach Car, full of snoozing passengers, and found a pair of empty seats. I took my water bottle out of my pocket and stuck it in the seatback pocket ahead of me. Something was in there. An empty Phillips Vodka bottle. Hmmm, I wonder if this belonged to our chum back in West Glacier? I settled in as other passengers bustled about, reclined the seat a bit, then drifted back off to sleep watching idly out the window as we left Spokane. It was no Sleeper, but there is a ton of legroom even for rangy buggers like me, and I stretched out as best I could.
Bina's Great Adventure
As we learned later, all but one person left the sleeper for the Coach Car. The one person was Bina. She told us later that she's not much of a morning person, and being all drowsy and sleepy, just said yeah yeah whatever to the conductor and went back to sleep. She awoke the next morning to find the car completely empty other than herself (not even an attendant aboard, no sign of her father). She walked up the train to find that she was headed to Seattle. Not only that, but the tracks were blocked by an avalanche in the mountains, and they stopped and were put on a bus and had to drive to Seattle, and then she either caught the late train or another bus (I was unclear on this) and didn't get to Portland until late Thursday night, a good 12 hours after the rest of us.
Morning in the Gorge
I woke up as we rolled along. I had no idea where we were. I put my shoes on and got up and stretched and then walked up the train to the Club Car. Paul was there already. We got a box breakfast from the little cafe downstairs (which is all we would have had in any case, since the Dining Car goes to Seattle and the Club Car to Portland) and ate breakfast as Pasco, Washington, came and went. It was a dusty-looking little town but had a nice modern train station. A bunch of people were getting on. We ratteld out of Pasco and crossed the Columbia River, and headed down along the west and north banks.
It's not much to look at in the upper reaches, remarkably arid and dusty on the hills, then the river. An occasional barge passed by going upstream, and a couple of dams. The train runs right alongside the Columbia, often with a highway just a little further inland. Paul, ever the nerd, had along his GPS and can be seen poring over it to see where we were and how fast we were going (and the train would often clock along at 80 mph). We idled the morning away watching the river go by and the land get slightly less arid as we went along. The sunny day we started off with turned wet as we went downriver.
I walked up to the front of the train, where from the upper level of the front passenger car you could just see over the engines. The photo above shows this view as we come into one of the many bridges and tunnels along the way. I then walked all the way to the back, where there was a gaggle of Amtrak attendants. I took a couple of photos off the back of the train, and got to talking. Can passengers just open the door? I asked. Only if I unlock it, said one guy, holding up a key and pointing to the slot at the top right of the door. Then they got to reminiscing, how once one of the guys forgot to lock to the door and later they went back and found a couple sitting on the back ledge with their feet dangling off. It wasn't like their feet would touch the ground, this was the upper level, but there wasn't a lot to hang onto, and a bad lurch could have tossed them off the back and onto the track at 80mph. They pulled the couple back into the train and locked the door. They chatted some more, and I went back. There was a couple snoozing in my seat; they must have boarded along the way somewhere. I got my water bottle out of the seatback and spent most of the rest of trip into Portland up in the Club Car.
It really is pretty dramatic down the lower reaches of the Columbia Gorge. It was also wet, with a pretty constant rain and the occasional rainbow. Oh well, this is going to be Portland in winter, what do you expect?
We were getting close, I could tell because I could see aircraft coming in to land. Portland's airport is right on the river, and I got out my Bike map and followed us in. The airport went by (on the other bank of the river) and we went downstream a bit, made a final stop in Edmonds, Washington, then crossed the river on a bridge into an industrial area of Portland, made our way back east a couple of miles, and pulled into the station. It was about 11:30, so we were just about an hour late despite the night's adventures in Spokane.
We disembarked from the train into the splattering rain and went into the station. Paul set to work assembling his Bike Friday. This actually takes a while because he has fenders and a rack on it which need to be fiddled with. I hung around Baggage Claim until my bike showed up, with the already-used Bike Box looking much the worse for wear and being wet on one end. I dragged it out into the main hall, pulled the bike out, and reassembled it. It didn't take much; put on the pedals, raise the seat, un-bungee the handlebars from the top tube, insert the stem, and tighten. I have a tall stem on my Marin, and had been anxious about getting adequate torque to tighten it down, but it turns out that my Klein 10-in-1 screwdriver, with a bit removed, fits beautifully on the short arm of the Allen wrench and allowed me to tighten it down. I like these screwdrivers a lot. I hooked up my front brake cable, packed away my tools, loaded on the panniers, then started annoying Paul who was still fiddling with his Bike Friday. He finally got done, we consulted the GPS, and rode out into the light rain and headed off towards our hotel.