Vacation Update
Thursday, May 21, 2009, 8:33 p.m. local time
Somewhere near Winslow, Arizona
We’ve now spent two full days on the train, and we’re heading into our second night. I’m not sure if two days on the train qualifies me as a veteran railrider, but I’ll say this: traveling on the train is THE way to go, bar none. If you have the time, and the desire to sit on your ass and do not a damn thing, this is the ticket. We’ve had steak for dinner two nights in a row, and an Angus beef burger for lunch (yes, we’re consuming more beef than we typically do in a month at home, which is probably why we’re doing it). We’ve had cheesecake, ice cream and some sort of apple crisp thing for dessert. We’ve had a small bottle of wine, and right now we’re relaxing in our roomette with a Bailey’s on the rocks. Sweet.
The dining car booths seat four, so if you’re a party of one or two, chances are you’re going to sit with strangers. By the end of the meal, though, they’re friends and that’s been pretty neat, too. We’ve met a woman from Maine who is traveling to visit one of her three sons who lives in California. We met an older gentleman from Los Angeles who is returning after a brief trip (business and pleasure) to the Ozarks. He was a real character, and presented the question, “What is the difference between the forest and the woods?” I’ll be damned if we couldn’t answer it, and neither could anyone else in the dining car. If you’ve got any ideas, lemme know. I have Al’s e-mail addy and would love to send him the answer. We also met a couple, Karen and Eric, who work for a Gap distribution center in upstate New York. To combat the high cost of living, they parked their RV in a beautiful campground and set up housekeeping. They’ve got all the amenities, including two bedrooms, a couple computers, satellite TV, the works. Their site looks out over a stream (that they claim runs north…the only one in the US to do so) and a gorgeous open field where their grandchildren play when they come to visit. In the observation car last night, I sat near an African American gentleman who was grooving to his iPod shuffle, whistling along. After awhile he put the shuffle away and was talking to people around him. I asked, just out of curiosity, what he had been listening to. “It’s a praise song,” he said, and then he backed up the shuffle and let me listen. It was an awesome song, but he couldn’t remember the name of the singer and I just might have to google some of the lyrics when I get internet access again. Today, for lunch, we sat with an older British gentleman who flew into New York and was going cross-country to see his daughter and her family who live in Torrence, CA. He told us stories about his granddaughter who lives a few miles from him in England, and we told him stories about Zozer, and all three of us roared with laughter.
Today, except for meals, we holed up in our tiny roomette and just spent the day looking, dozing, and talking. M got out his laptop to mess around with Christmas stuff after lunch, and I did a bunch of crossword puzzles. We just got done with dinner, and are now both on our computers. I’m typing this in Word so I can copy/paste into the blog once we get Internet access again, which unfortunately won’t be until late tomorrow night when we get to our hotel in Santa Cruz.
I’m looking forward to our second night here sleeping on the train, because now I know more of what to expect and should sleep better, and I’m booting M up to the top berth. He sleeps like a rock and has no need to get up in the middle of the night, whereas I’m a tosser/turner and risked breaking my neck climbing down from the top in the dark to go pee sometime around 3 a.m.
Speaking of going pee, let me tell you that it’s a fine art to pee in a train. Well, it’s not really that bad once you get used to the swaying and sudden lurches. It’s one of the few times in my life, though, that I’ll bother to use a seat cover instead of just hovering, because let me tell you, hovering on a moving train is damn near impossible. And some asshole in our car a.) never puts the seat down, b.) leaves a big stinking mess all around the sink and c.) is getting poorer and poorer with his aim, to the point where, this last time, I used a seat cover AND hovered. Blech. I’ve given up using the potty on this level of the train and will troop downstairs from now on, where it appears civilized human beings use the potties.
We’ve had a couple of brief stops to get off the train and stretch our legs. For me, this means shooting as much as possible in the shortest amount of time, including having to sprint back to the train when I hear the two whistles blow. For M, this means checking out the train station at the current stop, most of which are extremely old and very cool. For some of our traveling companions, this means getting off the train only so far as to light up their cigarettes and take deep breaths of polluted air. There is one woman who, with every stop, is right there at the door, clutching her cigs and her lighter like she’s about ready to kill anyone who might get in her way. M thinks that ought to be some sort of red flag to her, but I responded that she’s probably telling her spouse, “There’s this one woman who, with every stop, is right there at the door, clutching her giant camera like she’s about ready to kill anyone who might get in her way.” We all have our vices, don’t we?
Ahh, we’ve passed through Winslow and are now on our way to Flagstaff, where we’ll have another smoke/camera break before turning in for the night. Actually, unless there are klieg lights blazing away at the Flagstaff station, I won’t bother to take the D300 from its berth as it’ll be too dark to see anything anyway.
We’re to debark the Southwest Chief around 8:15 tomorrow morning in Los Angeles, and will depart on the Coast Starlight bound for San Jose at 10:15, arriving at 8:27 that night. We’ll get our rental car and head down to Santa Cruz, where we’ll have a real hotel room with an honest to goodness shower. I’m still debating on showering on the train. Haven’t yet, and considering not trying it. I’ve only sat on my ass and dozed so it’s not like I’m filthy, and given how mucked up the toilet/sink bathroom got in a short time I’m wary of using the shower room. Part of me wants to try it just for the experience, but the other, louder part of me is screaming, “Ewww!”
I could type more, about how the landscape changed from our verdant pastures of the mid-west to hardscrabble rock and sand of the southwest, and some of the sites we’ve seen (antelope! Prairie dog holes! More rusted cars than I ever thought possible!) but I’m on vacation, dammit, and right now I feel like going back to doing nothing. A girl can get used to this.
Somewhere near Winslow, Arizona
We’ve now spent two full days on the train, and we’re heading into our second night. I’m not sure if two days on the train qualifies me as a veteran railrider, but I’ll say this: traveling on the train is THE way to go, bar none. If you have the time, and the desire to sit on your ass and do not a damn thing, this is the ticket. We’ve had steak for dinner two nights in a row, and an Angus beef burger for lunch (yes, we’re consuming more beef than we typically do in a month at home, which is probably why we’re doing it). We’ve had cheesecake, ice cream and some sort of apple crisp thing for dessert. We’ve had a small bottle of wine, and right now we’re relaxing in our roomette with a Bailey’s on the rocks. Sweet.
The dining car booths seat four, so if you’re a party of one or two, chances are you’re going to sit with strangers. By the end of the meal, though, they’re friends and that’s been pretty neat, too. We’ve met a woman from Maine who is traveling to visit one of her three sons who lives in California. We met an older gentleman from Los Angeles who is returning after a brief trip (business and pleasure) to the Ozarks. He was a real character, and presented the question, “What is the difference between the forest and the woods?” I’ll be damned if we couldn’t answer it, and neither could anyone else in the dining car. If you’ve got any ideas, lemme know. I have Al’s e-mail addy and would love to send him the answer. We also met a couple, Karen and Eric, who work for a Gap distribution center in upstate New York. To combat the high cost of living, they parked their RV in a beautiful campground and set up housekeeping. They’ve got all the amenities, including two bedrooms, a couple computers, satellite TV, the works. Their site looks out over a stream (that they claim runs north…the only one in the US to do so) and a gorgeous open field where their grandchildren play when they come to visit. In the observation car last night, I sat near an African American gentleman who was grooving to his iPod shuffle, whistling along. After awhile he put the shuffle away and was talking to people around him. I asked, just out of curiosity, what he had been listening to. “It’s a praise song,” he said, and then he backed up the shuffle and let me listen. It was an awesome song, but he couldn’t remember the name of the singer and I just might have to google some of the lyrics when I get internet access again. Today, for lunch, we sat with an older British gentleman who flew into New York and was going cross-country to see his daughter and her family who live in Torrence, CA. He told us stories about his granddaughter who lives a few miles from him in England, and we told him stories about Zozer, and all three of us roared with laughter.
Today, except for meals, we holed up in our tiny roomette and just spent the day looking, dozing, and talking. M got out his laptop to mess around with Christmas stuff after lunch, and I did a bunch of crossword puzzles. We just got done with dinner, and are now both on our computers. I’m typing this in Word so I can copy/paste into the blog once we get Internet access again, which unfortunately won’t be until late tomorrow night when we get to our hotel in Santa Cruz.
I’m looking forward to our second night here sleeping on the train, because now I know more of what to expect and should sleep better, and I’m booting M up to the top berth. He sleeps like a rock and has no need to get up in the middle of the night, whereas I’m a tosser/turner and risked breaking my neck climbing down from the top in the dark to go pee sometime around 3 a.m.
Speaking of going pee, let me tell you that it’s a fine art to pee in a train. Well, it’s not really that bad once you get used to the swaying and sudden lurches. It’s one of the few times in my life, though, that I’ll bother to use a seat cover instead of just hovering, because let me tell you, hovering on a moving train is damn near impossible. And some asshole in our car a.) never puts the seat down, b.) leaves a big stinking mess all around the sink and c.) is getting poorer and poorer with his aim, to the point where, this last time, I used a seat cover AND hovered. Blech. I’ve given up using the potty on this level of the train and will troop downstairs from now on, where it appears civilized human beings use the potties.
We’ve had a couple of brief stops to get off the train and stretch our legs. For me, this means shooting as much as possible in the shortest amount of time, including having to sprint back to the train when I hear the two whistles blow. For M, this means checking out the train station at the current stop, most of which are extremely old and very cool. For some of our traveling companions, this means getting off the train only so far as to light up their cigarettes and take deep breaths of polluted air. There is one woman who, with every stop, is right there at the door, clutching her cigs and her lighter like she’s about ready to kill anyone who might get in her way. M thinks that ought to be some sort of red flag to her, but I responded that she’s probably telling her spouse, “There’s this one woman who, with every stop, is right there at the door, clutching her giant camera like she’s about ready to kill anyone who might get in her way.” We all have our vices, don’t we?
Ahh, we’ve passed through Winslow and are now on our way to Flagstaff, where we’ll have another smoke/camera break before turning in for the night. Actually, unless there are klieg lights blazing away at the Flagstaff station, I won’t bother to take the D300 from its berth as it’ll be too dark to see anything anyway.
We’re to debark the Southwest Chief around 8:15 tomorrow morning in Los Angeles, and will depart on the Coast Starlight bound for San Jose at 10:15, arriving at 8:27 that night. We’ll get our rental car and head down to Santa Cruz, where we’ll have a real hotel room with an honest to goodness shower. I’m still debating on showering on the train. Haven’t yet, and considering not trying it. I’ve only sat on my ass and dozed so it’s not like I’m filthy, and given how mucked up the toilet/sink bathroom got in a short time I’m wary of using the shower room. Part of me wants to try it just for the experience, but the other, louder part of me is screaming, “Ewww!”
I could type more, about how the landscape changed from our verdant pastures of the mid-west to hardscrabble rock and sand of the southwest, and some of the sites we’ve seen (antelope! Prairie dog holes! More rusted cars than I ever thought possible!) but I’m on vacation, dammit, and right now I feel like going back to doing nothing. A girl can get used to this.
posted by Amy at 12:45 AM
1 Comments:
Biologically a woodland is a treed area differentiated from a forest. In these terms, a forest has a largely-closed canopy; the branches and foliage of trees interlock overhead to provide extensive and nearly continuous shade. A woodland, on the other hand, allows sunlight to penetrate between the trees, limiting shade. Woodlands may support an understory of shrubs, herbs, or grasses. Woodlands may transition to savannas or shrublands under drier conditions". I.E. Forests cover a bigger area and are older than woods. Have Fun. Peace, Steven
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