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Reclaiming The Final States Sober 11/5-11/1996

The purpose of this journey was to continue to keep riding trains through every state in which I drank and second, to be on the last runs of Amtrak's Texas Eagle and Desert Wind. The second part became unnecessary when President Clinton gave Amtrak $22 million to keep the endangered trains running through May 10th, 1997, the anniversary of the driving of the Golden Spike. As such, I would be on the Sunset Limited/Texas Eagle, reclaiming Arkansas for my sobriety to Chicago, then the Illinois Zephyr to and from Quincy and the Desert Wind home.

I boarded San Diegan 783 at Santa Ana bound for Los Angeles for the connection with the Sunset Limited and during the journey, looked through the new Amtrak national timetable which took effect on Sunday. Arriving on time, I went to station services for a boarding pass for Train 22 and started the queue for the Texas Eagle portion of the Sunset Limited.

I found two seats on the right with a full window view, one of the advantages of being the first in line. We departed on time and since I was very tired from leading junior varsity soccer tryouts at McFadden Intermediate, watched the train curve across the Los Angeles River and fell fast asleep. Every so often I awakened as the eighth grade science class was learning about the star and I wanted a better view of them than than the students could have. Travelling by train on a clear night enabled a fantastic view of the Milky Way; just another advantage of train travel.

11/6/1996 Waking up in Casa Grande, Arizona, I started my musical selections with twenty-eight years of Jethro Tull and a tape of a live 1969 concert from Sweden. We arrived at Tucson and one advantage of bypassing Phoenix was the faster journey to here which gave me an opportunity to enjoy the fresh air while we waited for the Thruway bus from Phoenix, which arrived as we were scheduled to leave. Therefore, we departed ten minutes late so the dispatcher ran us on the westbound track which was quicker but spoilt the pictures of two photographers I saw waiting for us on the lower track as we crossed over above it on the high bridge. We made the quick climb to Mescal then descended to Benson and crossed the Santa Cruz River, only to climb again to the summit of the Dragoon Mountains. Wilcox Playa was completely dry as we continued to speed east and I was surprised with the lack of freight trains on the Sunset Route. All too soon we crossed into New Mexico and as we proceeded over the Continental Divide, I noticed the flatness of the area for the first time since it was akin to a huge dry lake with distant mountains.

After Deming, we started our descent towards the Rio Grande River and as we neared the Mexican border, I saw the new fence under construction to keep the bandits from robbing the Southern Pacific freight trains as well as two border patrol vehicles and a Southern Pacific Police truck. We crossed the Rio Grande River into Texas and since there was dust blowing over Juarez, I knew El Paso would be windy. While the train was being serviced, I went into the depot and purchased a Sunset Limited coffee mug, the only time I have ever seen them.

Departing on time, something not common here, the Train Chief started the trivia game but unfortunately the speakers in my coach were not working so I could not play. Strange as it may sound, when I went to the washroom, I suddenly heard "Okay, here are questions one through five again!" I stood on top of the toilet with my ear as close to the speaker as possible and the game took ten minutes. Upon completion, I turned in a piece of paper with my answers and I had seven-and-a-half out of ten correct so won another Sunset Limited T-shirt. Dinner time arrived and I was off to the dining car for a Huey P. Long steak and had two dining companions, a woman who was in the Army as a computer specialist going home to her family in Raleigh, North Carolina, and a diver who capped underwater oil wells. Following dinner, it was time for the flms, a double feature of "The Phantom" and "Dragon Heart", both of which I had seen in the theaters and enjoyed them again. I returned to my seat and fell asleep until I awoke in San Antonio after the through Texas Eagle cars, on which I was, were cut from the rear of the Sunset Limited for the connection with the Texas Eagle

Leaving San Antonio on time, we reversed about four miles to reach the Union Pacific main line then proceeded north and for the first time, was riding on the inbound route to town instead of the usual outbound route that I had taken on my only northbound trip. Traveling north on this cloudy morning, it was announced that the lounge car would be completely non-smoking because a group of schoolchildren were going to be riding to Taylor, Texas. During their ride, I purchased my Texas Eagle/Amtrak 25th Anniversary coffee mug and had the first of many cups of tea. We were travelling in Hill County, the landscape had a nice roll to it and I spotted trees trying to change into their autumn colours. The children duly detrained at Taylor and the smokers returned to the lounge car then we stopped at Temple, which is the hospital capital of Texas with four major institutions headquartered. Adjacent to the station is the Temple Railroad Museum, which includes Santa Fe H-600 2031 on display, as well as all the BNSF trains awaiting their departures. This part of Texas reminded me of the television show "Dallas". North of town, the Sumac trees were a bright scarlet standing out from the evergreen trees but as we approached Fort Worth, the trees gave way to urbanization. We were stopped at the now-unmanned Tower 55 by freight train interference before arriving at Fort Worth.

After the servicing stop, we reversed out of the station on time but encountered more freight train interference at Tower 55, which had been manned until about six weeks ago. All crossing movements were now handled out of Union Pacific's Bunker Dispatching Center near Omaha. Both of our delays could have been avoided if there had been an operator on the scene. Finally moving again, we made haste with the miles to Dallas, passing the Ballpark at Arlington, home of Major League Baseball's Texas Rangers, and a Six Flags complex to the north. Rounding the curve into Dallas Union Station, we passed the Texas Book Depository, where Lee Harvey Oswald shot President John F. Kennedy on November, 22, 1963. Arriving at Dallas Union Station, the new Dallas Area Rapid Transit light rail trains were passing us, while a Hispanic man in front of me was being questioned by the Drug Enforcement Agency about his travel since he had one-way ticket paid for with cash from El Paso to Chicago on the day he left. They asked for his identication and searched his bag then satisfied, they left him alone and continued to check the train.

About an hour after leaving Dallas, I went to the dining car for dinner and my tablemates were a lady travelling to Marshall, Texas and a gentleman who just had returned from Belize in Central America. He told of living there and the diet he had been on the last six months. After dinner, I went to the lounge car to wait for tonight's film, "Twister", which was not the ideal film to show in this part of the country, proven by nine people who left the theatre area, one stopping to tell me that their neighbourhoods were hit by tornadoes last night and they were on the train trying to get away from them. I enjoyed the film as the movement of the train added to the experience. Arriving in Texarkana, a city on the border of Texas and Arkansas, started my journey through Arkansas as I reclaimed it for my sobriety. The lounge car's air circulation was working too well so I went into the next coach for fresh air then following the end of the film, I returned to my seat, curled up and fell asleep.

11/8/1996 Arriving in St. Louis, I was up and walked outside for some fresh air, noting that two Horizon coaches were added to the front of the train and two private cars were added to our rear. Reboarding, I went to the lounge car for breakfast and more cups of tea. We departed on time and curved along the Mississippi River through a tunnel then exited with the Gateway Arch high above the train on the left and Old Man River on the right. Ducking into another tunnel, we proceeded north along the bank over the river until we made a right hand turn which led us onto the bridge over the Mississippi River with a great view of the Arch, St. Louis and the Trans World Dome, home of National Football League's St. Louis Rams. Passing through the maze of tracks at Alton, Ilinois, I saw a man wearing a T-shirt reading "Where it all Started!" and I struck up a conversation with him. He had over nineteen years of sobriety and we talked program for an hour-and-a-half. After he left, the countryside turned to towns, fields, rivers, fields and towns, a continuous cycle as we stopped at Carlinville and Springfield, where I decided to return to my seat.

The schedule on this line was rather odd since first we were twenty minutes late, then we sat at Dwight because we arrived five minutes early. At Joliet, we departed twelve minutes late, which made me wonder if I would make my 1:25 PM Metra connection to Antioch in Chicago. We were then stuck behind a slow-moving Southern Pacific coal train on Metra's Joliet Subdivision at twenty miles per hour for fifteen minutes and by the time we managed to get around him, we finally reversed into Chicago at 1:23 PM.

I rushed off the train but the 1:25 train departed on time and I asked a conductor where I could go for a couple of hours. He suggested Grayslake on the Milwaukee District/North Line so I went off to the Metra ticket counter and bought a round-trip ticket.

Sitting in a former Milwaukee commuter coach was not my first choice of spending a layover in Chicago, but it would have to do and I duly rode to Grayslake, which I had already been to when I went to northern terminus at Fox Lake. I noticed the continual growth of the northern suburbs and a new station at Lake Cook Road. My train laid over so I hopped on the next inbound train from Fox Lake and spent the return trip watching the conductor work hard, selling tickets, taking cash and answering all types of questions, a stark difference from Metrolink conductors at home, where ticket machines and the honour system is the norm. Nearing Chicago, it was already getting dark and the afternoon rush hour had begun. It was not easy taking two suitcases through a sea of commuters and was similar to a salmon swimming upstream to spawn.

I went back by the Metra ticket office to pick up some timetables for my Orange County Railway Historical Society members before going upstairs to the food court where I ordered two Gold Coast Char Dogs and found a table next to where people were playing blackjack and I enjoy watching people lose their money and not mine. I then proceeded to the waiting area for my 5:55 PM departure.

I boarded a Horizon coach for the journey to Quincy and this train had three Horizon coaches and two Amcafés for seating, although only the lead Amcafé was serving. We departed on time in a rain shower and quickly passed many of the commuter train stops. I went to purchase a 7-UP and it was odd to walk through one Amcafé car on the way to the other and on the way back, remembered there had been an empty one on the Washington-to-New York train last summer. With my headphones on and my word fill-in puzzles in hand, the evening passed by quickly and at each stop, I glanced out of the window and knew I would see it in daylight tomorrow. This Friday night, we were just dropping off people, so the further from Chicago we went, the more empty the train became.

After we stopped at Macomb, the conductor walked in and asked if everyone would move up one car because only one car can fit on the Quincy platform. I happily moved and within half an hour, we passed the radio towers that marked our entrance into Quincy. Leaving the on-time train, I called the Travelodge for my ride but did not have anyone available, despite the fact I made my reservation through AAA in September and they said they would pick me up. Five minutes later, a taxi arrived to take the lounge attendant to his hotel, which just happened to be mine. As we left, I saw the van from the Holiday Inn leave and thought I should have stayed there. We dropped the Amtrak employee off and the hotel paid the $11.20 for the taxi. It was a hassle, so I agreed to pay the return to the station in the morning and I went to bed.

After a relaxing night's sleep, I called a taxi and freshend up then departed the room at 5:45 AM for a 6:15 train, but the taxi did not arrive until 5:57 AM with a $14.20 fare back to the station. Standing on the platform on a 22 degree morning with the stars still overhead, I boarded and walked to the same coach seat I had after Macomb last night. Leaving Quincy on schedule, we curved by the radio towers and proceeded towards the sunrise and the woman behind turned the seats to face each other but the conductor made her turn them back, citing Amtrak's policy on this matter. The sun made its first appearance as a big orange circle rising against a foreground of fields and trees. The landscape was undulating and used mainly for grazing and fields for the harvest of corn, now standing unproductive until next season's planting. We slowed for Prairie City, an apt name and there was frost on the shadows of the hills, reminding me of just how cold it had been last night and all too soon, we were passing the south side of BNSF's Galesburg yard and stopping at Galesburg station, where many passengers boarded. I really noticed the difference in the fields from last August with the wheat fields plowed for winter wheat.

The journey down the former Burlington Northern double track mainline was quick and soon we were back in triple track commuter territory, passing Metra commuter trains. Checking my Metra timetables, if we arrived in Chicago on time, I would have ten minutes to reach the Chicago and North Western station for a train out to Geneva. Our train was not wyed the so I and my bags were off on a dash through the station, down a north platform, up some stairs to street level, across two streets, into the building, up an escalator, buy a weekend pass for $5 and out to the train all in five-and-a-half minutes.

The conductor looked at me and asked where I came from and I replied Union Station in five-and-a-half minutes. His response was that I could have taken the shuttle in forty-five seconds then remarked that he could not have done what I did in that time, even if he had not been carrying anything.

We departed on time and I was on a former Chicago and North Western bi-level coach on the main line of that fallen flag railroad, now Union Pacific, on a line that I had not ridden before. The Union Pacific West Line is the oldest railway route built from Chicago, the route of the Galena and Chicago Union Railroad along Kinzie Street. Until the late 1940's, the line had a branch to Freeport then diverged from the main line at West Chicago and had stations at Elgin, Marengo, Belvidere, Rockford, Freeport and other communities.

I sat on the right for the journey to Geneva and switched sides for the return then as on any new line that I ride, I was all eyes, taking in the sights. We passed south of Chicago and North Western's main Chicago yard, Proviso Yard and proceeded into the suburbs. Just before Geneva, we crossed the Fox River which provided the most beautiful setting on the whole Metra system and I was informed that it was an excellent canoeing waterway.

Metra F40PH 155 "City of Highland Park", nee Regional Transportation Authority 155 built by Electro-Motive Division in 1983, led the train. A large crowd had gathered for the early afternoon return train to Chicago then crossing the Fox River, the right side was superior to that of the left. Snowflakes were trying to fall as we made our way back then the CTA line joined the right-of-way so I had a good view of some of their trains, a system that I had not yet ridden. One of the stops was Harlem, which reminded me of New York City, especially with empty buildings, rubbish and the like but I felt safe inside this passing Metra train, another advantage of seeing areas around Chicago safely by Metra. As we arrived at Chicago and North Western Terminal, I was amazed at just how many weekend passes were sold by the conductor.

The temperature had dropped as I walked back to Union Station and returned to the food court for a Gold Coast Char Steak. I then wrote a few postcards and on each, noted the number of days of sobriety I have, today was 661, and made my way to the waiting room via the mail box.

I was back on my old friend, the Desert Wind, and thankfully this was not its last run. I always hated to see any train end its existence and through the years, only the Spirit of California, San Diego Metroliner, River Cities and Broadway Limited ceased after I rode them. I would travel west as far as Salt Lake City twice in eighteen days, so was going to be on the lookout for any differences in scenery. We departed on schedule and proceeded to Galesburg the same way I had come in just this morning. I then went to the dining car to present my card for the complimentary meal and was told to just bring it along. I looked down at my MacArthur Intermediate jacket and decided since I had not worked there for four years, would remove the stitching that read "MacArthur Athletics". Since I had my headphones on, I removed the lettering stitch by stitch and by dinner time, it was complete and I still had a nice warm unlettered jacket I could now wear to McFadden Intermediate.

The dining car steward arrived while I was working and I received a dinner reservation then showed her my card. When dinner time came, the steward took my card, signed it and gave it back to me as a souvenir. I ordered prime rib, 7-UP and ice cream, which made for an excellent meal. My tablemates were an alcoholic with twelve months of sobriety, whose son died of a drug overdose, and a couple returning from Wisconsin after seeing their new grandson. They also lived in Israel for ten years so there was many interesting topics being discussed and I always learned something sharing meals on the train. Following dinner, the train curved across the Mississippi River into Iowa and tonight's film was "Mission Impossible" or as I called it, "Movie Impossible". We laughed at the stupidity of it and had a good time watching electric trains with no wires. I returned to my seat then at Ottumwa, gained a seatmate, Ernest, an older gentleman on his way to Las Vegas. We run into light snow at Osceola and I then retired and had a good night's sleep.

11/10/1996 Daylight showed I was in eastern Colorado on a beautiful clear morning so went to the dining car for some pancakes and turkey sausage before settling into the lounge car. When the train turned to the southwest after passing through Akron, we viewed the entire Front Range of the Rockies and could see some seventy miles to the south to Pikes Peak. The conductor pointed out where places were by the mountain peaks, such as Rocky Mountain National Park, Longs Peak and where the train will pass through the Continental Divide at Moffat Tunnel. Nearing the outskirts of Denver, we passed Colorado Railcar and there were three VIA Rail dome cars outside.

After reversing into Denver Union Station twenty minutes late, I detrained for the usual fresh air and the mailing of today's postcards, although most of the recipients see me before they receive the card in the mail. I chose a seat on the left in the lounge car since I have always sat on the right every other time. We departed five minutes late and moved about three-quarters-of-a-mile then sat for fifteen minutes and I joked with a fellow passenger that there were only 569.25 more miles of the old Rio Grande to go. Once on the move again, we passed a freight at Leyden then proceeded to Rocky and the Big Ten Curve. I saw many deer and surmrised they must have come down from the mountains looking for food. As we turned left towards the Big Ten, the crowd was oohing and aahing at every passing scene since there were a lot of first-time train riders aboard. Rounding the curve always made me think of what it took to build this railroad and how it played such an important role in the history of Colorado.

We were steadily climbing and the mountainside view gave me an appreciation for the geological beauty of the mountains. We curved around Coal Creek Canyon, entered the first of the forty-four tunnels and the children began to count the tunnels as we continued our ascent. Passing through Plainview siding, we entered one of my favourite tunnels, this one carved out of the diagonal rock face of the mountain then began to alternate between curve and tunnel for quite some time. Slide detector fences abounded and I was asked their purpose, which I happily explained, leading to more questions. A few miles later, the stream following the tracks had ice along the bank, with water still running down the middle of the river's course. Winter was indeed coming to the Rockies.

The warning to not open the door between the cars came over the public address system as we approached Moffat Tunnel and minutes later, we plunged into the tunnel, the highest point on our route and the crossing beneath the Continental Divide. After having a hot dog, chips and 7-Up along with fifteen minutes of complete darkness, we burst out into the brilliant winter wonderland with a loud chorus of oohs and aahs. Travelling about eight more miles, we stopped at the Winter Park-Fraser station, which was a smoking stop and I detrained for some cool and fresh Rocky Mountain air and watched a Southern Pacific coal train pass and an impromptu snowball fight between an English girl and a Scottish man. Who said that smokers have all the fun at these stops?

The first call for lunch was made and the lounge car emptied so I switched sides to be on the correct side for Glenwood Canyon later this afternoon. Passing through Bond, I noticed for the first time where the Craig Branch diverted from the main line. Now on the Dotsero Cutoff, we switched sides of the Colorado River and just before entering Dell siding, I spotted a bald eagle sitting on top of a tree. Passengers rushed across the car to look and one remarked that it was the fifth he had seen today, even one with a dark head, meaning it is a young eagle, which I was not aware of. At Dotsero, we met our eastbound counterpart then later, we entered Glenwood Canyon but the sun was in the southwest and made viewing more difficult. I met a lady who had ridden a bicycle all the way through the canyon on the bicycle trail and loved every minute, except being watched by the guards at the hydroelectric plant.

I returned to my seat finding my seatmate asleep so I obtained my dinner reservation before getting in position to detrain at the fresh air stop in Glenwood Springs. An older black lady looked lost so and I asked if I could help, to which she asked if I could take her to her garage. I helped her back to her seat and learnt that she and her sister were moving to San Bernardino to live with their younger brother and she had never left home before. Once in Glenwood Springs, I enjoyed the sun and sat on the grass slope while a freight train passed, giving us an even longer stop. Speeding west, we were moving really well until just past Rifle, where we came upon a slow order before going into a siding for a parade of six freight trains. On the move again, just outside of the town of De Beque to the west, I spotted a herd of mule deer to the north before we entered De Beque Canyon and due to the low light which created interesting shadows, I imagined seeing faces in the cliffs.

Sunset occurred just as we were exiting the canyon, which to me, looked larger in the low light. We entered the Grand Valley in twilight and arrived at Grand Junction, giving me an opportunity to visit the hobby shop where I purchased Pentex's Southern Pacific Central Valley Mainline tape and wished there were more train shops along the Amtrak system. About twenty-five minutes after departure, my 6:00 PM reservation was called and I chose the same meal as last night from menu number two. While eating, we entered Ruby Canyon in the sheer darkness, a matter of the time of the year and the schedule. The only light to be seen were from the vehicles on Interstate 70. The film was a repeat showing of "Dragonheart" which was entertaining for a second straight night then we passed the lights of Thompson, Green River and Price before arriving at our next scheduled stop at Helper. I enjoyed the climb up the east slope of Soldier Summit before retiring for the night, waking up briefly at Salt Lake City before falling back into a restful slumber.

11/11/1996 I was awakened at 2:00 AM by the black lady talking loudy and wanting to get off the train. The conductor and assistant conductor tried to placate her and since she was sitting across from me, the conductor asked me for my seat. I therefore took my pillow and blanket to the lounge car and stretched across three chairs, falling asleep for another three hours, whereupon I returned to the coach and was asked why I looked so rested, so told them what I had done, and they followed suit. I returned to the lounge car as dawn began to take hold just east of Caliente, Nevada, another smoking stop. We proceeded into Rainbow Canyon at sunrise, having passed through DeBeque Canyon at dusk, and travelling through the narrow passage along Meadow Valley Wash, the aspen trees were a golden brown, a view I had been anticipating the entire journey. During this time, I had a breakfast of French Toast and bacon eating at a leisurely pace then returned to the lounge car for the rest of the journey to Las Vegas, doing word fill-in puzzles.

Upon arrival, I detrained to find a mail box and the dining car crew behind me was going to play the slots. I played three quarters with no luck then departing the city, the train crew was the same as my eastbound train last August. The lounge car was alive with stories of wages lost and the Europeans aboard met some Californians and were discussing Southern California, asking if what they were being told was the truth. We passed the last of the casinos at Stateline and entered California then commenced our ascent up the east side of Cima Hill and reached its top with a Joshua Tree forest. I went downstairs and talked with the conductor and a woman from Australia, with whom I shared the tale of those three Australians from my August trip where I completed riding the entire Amtrak system and we all had a good laugh at their taxi cab ride to Fort Morgan. I returned upstairs and talked with a train rider from San Diego who was on a one-region All Aboard America Fare visiting Portland, Spokane, Seattle, Sacramento and Denver. He had old timetable pages and magazine pages photocopied and had a few interesting stories to share as we related our experiences. We travelled through Afton Canyon then sped towards Yermo passing through Union Pacific's yard and entered the Santa Fe's main line at Daggett for the quick trip to the smoking stop at Barstow.

Passengers explored the old Harvey House as well as the Western America Railroad Museum's equipment before we departed fifty minutes late and my new friend, the train rider, was worried about missing San Diegan 578 in Fullerton because his wife was going to board in Oceanside to ride with him to San Diego. Since I had the new Amtrak timetable in hand, I assured him he would be fine and suggested he couuld take the new San Diego Express from Los Angeles and he could call his wife from there. The train made very good time over Cajon Pass and arrived at the last smoking stop at San Bernardino, where there were three Inland Empire Metrolink trains at the station and I could have taken that home had I thought about it. Howver, I did want to be on the first run of the new San Diego Express, so everything would work out to my satisfaction. On the journey down the San Bernardino Subdivision, I met an older black gentleman who lived in El Monte and was going to take Metrolink home but had never used the service before. I offered to teach him how to use the machine and show him the track on which his train would be. We passed through Riverside and I remarked that the Desert Wind had never passed through here when I was waiting for a Metrolink train. It was a quick trip to Fullerton and the announcement was made that Train 578 would be held in Fullerton for connecting passengers going to points south towards San Diego. The connecting passengers duly detrained and left twenty-five minutes late.

Before we arrived in Los Angeles, everyone who had traveled all the way from Chicago together said goodbye to each other and wished each other well. As I have said many times before, Amtrak's slogan should be, "Every Trip is an Adventure". I helped my new friend buy his first Metrolink ticket and showed him the track the train would be before taking him to the baggage room so he could reclaim his luggage. We said our goodbyes and he sent me off with, "God Bless you and many thanks!" I went to the east end of the station and called for a ride home from the Santa Ana.

This new service was a regular San Diegan train but with limited stops, running as an express. I walked up to Track 8 to take the 4:13 PM first departure of the San Diego Express and found an empty track. Departure time came and went so I began to question my judgment about riding this train. Finally at 4:20, it reversed into the station and I boarded a California coach and walked upstairs into the California dining car to find Linda Paul, one of my favourite Lead Service Attendants, working, which proved my decision to take this train and the wait was all worth it. During my ride to Santa Ana, we talked about my trip and her change of job assignments. The San Diego Express departed thirteen minutes late before being delayed for six minutes at DT Junction, bypassing Anaheim and arriving at Santa Ana twenty-three minutes late. I stepped off with part one complete and eleven days until the remainder of the trip.

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