The Journey

PreScript:  I'm writting this at the noted times, but Amtrak's WI-FI has yet to appear, much like Bigfoot or the city bikes of Copenhagen, they are marketing myths (AKA untruths).


Interesting sight of the day:
Coming into LA on the Metrolink out of San Bernadino, a trip I highly [don't] recommend (it's like taking a tour of  the longest slum in the world) I saw the site of the day. On a very large dirt lot, someone had placed a barbed wire fence around a 600 x 200 foot swath of bare, good ole fashion,  piece of dirt.  Barbed wire fence, not a regular fence but one with barbs on it.  Why in the world would someone work so hard to keep people off of that was exactly the same as the all the dirt around it. Maybe it was an art project.


2/1/2012 (Wed) - 6:57 PM
Somewhere outside of Palm Springs, I'm sitting in the observation car, mainly to get away from the smell of alcohol and cigraettes that permeate the air around me.  I'm almost certain that they have mistakenly put me in the alcoholic car of the Texas Eagle. There is no way I'm getting any sleep tonight. The train is full and the guy next to me is talking to his girlfriend on the phone trying to get the explanation of why she had him arrested.  There seem to be a lot of those stories around. They are nice folk really, but I get the feeling if alchol was not readily available this would be a whole different train ride. Some of the train stops are long enough for the smokers to stop and inhale the Marlboro desert air.  Those stops are very popular and the train empties. I know I'm being a snob, but I'm pissed.  My relaxing 40 hour train ride has turned into an uncomfortable endurance contest of not looking out the window from my aisle seat.


2/2/2012 (Thurs) - 6:30 AM
Woke up in the observation car as the sun is starting to rise on the New Mexico desert.  I can tell which way is east because to my left is all dark, to the right is a firey orange glow.  My GPS says we are just outside of Las Cruses New Mexico.  I got a few chunks of bent sleep on the J" shapped, three seat bench seats. I went back to my seat around 11:30 last night to try and sit in my seat but my seating companion had already spread himself across both seats and I didn't have the heart to make him sit up.  I was glad I did though, neither of us would have been able to sleep if I hadn't relegated myself to the glass ceiling car. The nothingness of the desert is beautifull.


Interesting sight of the day:  I'm in the dining car having breakfast and sitting across from a guy even older than me, unbelievable I know, I notice the run down condition of the houses a few dozen yards from the train tracks. I verbialy make note of that fact and he says "That's Mexico." That fact is quickly confirmed as I notice the half dozen border patrol trucks spread out, parked and pointed at the border. The train is literaly yards away from Juarez, one of the most deadly cities in Mexico.  I ask the waiter in the dining car if he can get the train to go faster. 


2/2/2012 (Thurs) - 10 AM
Back in my seat for a bit. The thing about train folk is they are down to earth and honest. There is none of that "everything is fine and beautiful and my life is fantastic" corporate veneer that I have always hated.  They will tell you, a complete stranger, about their marital problems, arrest record, illegitimate chilren, drunken whore of an ex-wife without even a second thought. You quickly feel comfortable with them. We are stopping for about 8 hours in San Antinio, yuck.  Still not sure about the logistics of the whole thing, I just want to make sure I stay on the same train as my bags.


2/2/2012 (still Thurs) - 4 PM CST
Texas is big.  We have been moving for over 8 hours, with many more to go before we even hit San Antonio.  All Texas, all empty scrub brush and hills, all the same. I'm over the nothingness.  Texas is big.


2/3/2012 (Fri) - 6 PM CST
AHHHHHH.  It felt so good to get off that fucking train.  As I'm standing in the door way, with other happy people departing the train, we talk about how bad our two cars stunk.  In San Antonio they took the two cars that were heading north and split them from the other cars going to New Orleans.  We then got attached to another "fresh" train.  Walking betwwen the two sets of cars, there was a noticeable difference of aroma.  Nobody in the orginal two cars had showered in two days and the air was putrid.  I couldn't wait to take a shower.  


Interesting sight of the day:  Killing time before I could check into the motel, I walked down to the river, where it's primarly a huge dog park.  A guy is riding a bicycle around wearing nothing more than an eye patch over his junk with a string up the crack of his ass.  Nobody even turned to look, this place is a lot more hip than I thought it was.


Footnote:  Sad really, when the trip started everyone was giddy with excitement and the best of friends.  By the time we rolled out of San Antonio, feelings had been hurt and alliances were being formed.  I'm pretty sure the guy in row 8 had found the immunity idol so he was not going to get voted off the train.