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Finishing the Amtrak System Sober With The Added Bonus of Autumn Colours 10/9-20/1997

It was now time to book my lifetime dream trip to attempt to see the trees in the northeast in their full autumn colors and my research showed that the second week in October would be the ideal time so I first thought of returning to Vermont to see the trees in all their glory to and from there. With Amtrak's future in doubt, a better idea presented itself: why not finish the Amtrak system sober as I needed only the two train segments of Kansas City to St Louis and Winter Haven to Miami to accomplish that. Getting the time off work proved to be no problem so I booked the journey of Santa Ana to Los Angeles to Kansas City to St. Louis by rail, then a Thruway van to Carbondale, Illinois and back to the rails to New Orleans, Jacksonville and Miami, where I would arrive on my 1,000th day of sobriety. Then the celebration would begin with a Miami-to-New York ride in my a Viewliner sleeper, New York to Toronto to Chicago, then Martinez to Bakersfield and the overnight Thruway Bus home.

I became the McFadden Intermediate varsity flag football coach and with our players winning their first two games, I left the team in the capable hands of my assistant coach Albert Cortes. I packed and was ready to go on this adventure.

I was sitting on the middle platform at the Santa Ana station as Train 781 arrived with the very pretty Marisol as conductor. We departed on time and she took the first ticket of this journey then I listened to music on my headphones and watched her undertake her duties. Anaheim and Fullerton came rather quickly before the train swayed and bounced its way down the Santa Fe main line towards Los Angeles. This section of tracks was becoming the roughest I had ridden over since they have the constant hammering of freight trains upon them daily and it was easy to tell that was taking a toll. Once past Hobart Tower, the ride smoothed out and we made an on-time arrival at Los Angeles. I said goodbye to Marisol and she wished me well on my journey then went down the platform to find a luggage cart for a dollar and went into the station to one of the large chairs beside the boarding gate. I continued to listen to my music and started reading "All Aboard with E. M. Frimbo", my book for this trip.

The word confusion would best describe the boarding of the Southwest Chief. Announcements were made for passengers to line up at Gate E for coach and Gate F for sleeping cars. The conductors arrived and wanted the sleeping car passengers at Gate E, then informed everyone that the coach line was only for passengers going to Chicago and those going to Flagstaff and Albuquerque should go to Gate G. I just sat there and watched all this in amazement while the others looked lost. In a semi-loud voice, I asked "What about Kansas City and everywhere else?", to which the conductor had to check his manifest then told us that since we were in the 411 car to go wait by Gate G. We were then turned loose and I led my fellow passengers, who thanked me for being understanding, to our car and had my choice of a large window seat thanks to a good assignment by the car attendant. Despite all of the confusion, Train 4 departed on time.

My first seatmate was Ralph, going home to Independence, Missouri, returning from a visit to British Columbia, a favourite place of mine. We talked for about fifteen minutes before I was off to the lounge car to obtain a good seat for tonight's film "Father's Day". If I thought that the low-level equipment rode roughly, riding in the upper level of the empty lounge car proved to be a major thrill ride. I stretched out to watch the film, which lasted until we were running along Cajon Boulevard then had the car to myself for the climb over Cajon Pass through the darkness of the night. After we passed through Summit, I returned to my seat to find that a new seatmate, this time a woman, but introductions would have to wait until the morning as she was fast asleep. I climbed up and over her to dream my night away and other than waking up at Barstow and Needles, I slept soundly.

10/10/1997 I awoke minutes west of Williams and made my way to the lower level of the lounge car for breakfast as we were making slow progress east of Williams due to heavy freight train traffic. I returned to my seat to find Juanita up and learned she went by the nickname of Mouse, then prepared myself for the day. At Flagstaff, I jumped off to get a USA Today. As the train proceeded east on this October morning, I read more of the book, listened to the Rolling Stones' Hampton Beach Show, whom I would see at Dodger Stadium on November 8th, and enjoyed the peacefulness of train travel. We were an hour off schedule but that did not matter since I had an eight-hour layover in Kansas City tomorrow. We arrived at Albuquerque with not a single balloon in the air, even though the festival started the next day and at Cheryl's Bus, it was one postcard for fifty cents or five for a dollar so I went for the five and wrote them, which used up most of this servicing stop time, but noted that it was warm and sunny with a nice breeze blowing. Back on the move again, it was more reading and I obtained a 9:00 PM dinner reservation just before Lamy, knowing that it would make for a full evening of doing things.

In the shadows of Apache Canyon, I spotted the first tree in full autumn colors and it was absolutely beautiful. Later, while descending Glorieta Pass, I spotted a handful more as they stood out among the sea of pine trees. We came came to a halt at Chappell and it was announced that due to heavy rain in the area, the tracks must be inspected so we sat for over thirty minutes until a track inspector's truck passed on a siding and we were given the go-ahed to proceed. These precautions were in place after Train 3 was derailed by a flash flood east of Kingman last summer. We continued north with no rainfall but plenty of runoff in the streams that we crossed and the rest of the afternoon was a show of clouds with a final brilliant performance of the setting sun. With dinner still a long way away, I went to the lounge car and watched "Wild America" on the lower level. It struck me as odd that although it was pitch black outside, someone had to make announcements about the scenic vistas in the night, when nothing could be seen and disrupted the film's audio. Afterwards, I returned upstairs to enjoy the descent down Raton Pass into Trinidad, Colorado then started to watch "My Best Friend's Wedding" but was called into dinner at 8:32 PM and had a Prime Rib with more fat than should have been. I retired east of La Junta and slept most of the night away.

10/11/1997 The only time I was woken was in Dodge City, Kansas, when a tour group riding in my coach detrained. I was up and ready for my day as we passed through Holliday and rode in the lounge car through Santa Fe's Argentine Yard while having breakfast before crossing into Missouri, where we arrived an hour late at Kansas City. This was the first train I had ridden that was under the Direct Train Braking System developed for handling mail and express cars and RoadRailers but I noticed no difference in ride quality, and the only reason I learned our train was using it was listening to the conductor and the Lead Service Attendant discussing it during dinner last night.

With a seven-hour layover, I bought a local paper to consult film times at Crown Center, a short five block walk away. I bought my usual postcard, writing Day 997 on it before working on portions of this story as a parade of freight trains passed outside, then stored my bags in a locker and went to the main post office followed by a walk to Crown Center. I bought the Rolling Stones' "Bridges to Babylon" since I had forgotten mine at home and the 25th Anniversary version of Jethro Tull's Thick as a Brick before browsing Crown Books. Across from Kansas City Union Station atop a hill is the nation's only World War I Memorial so went for a nice long walk, only to find it to be fenced off due to its unstable nature. I returned to the station for a couple hours of watching passing trains and realized just how much I enjoy this part of my hobby and the clouds in the fast-moving sky provided additional entertainment, as did the workers who were in the process of transforming Union Station into a Science Center. I returned inside to reclaim my bags and to wait for my next train.

This 283-mile journey was first introduced in 1980 as the Kansas City Mule and St. Louis Mule. When Amtrak took over nationwide passenger service in 1971, the route became the western leg of the National Limited, which originated in New York and was the first passenger train on the route to originate at a point east of the Mississippi River. It was the successor of the famed Spirit of St. Louis, which was extended to Kansas City after Amtrak's formation and renamed later in 1971. When the National Limited was canceled in 1979, the only train serving the St. Louis–Kansas City corridor was the Chicago–Kansas City Ann Rutledge. Missouri officials pressed for the introduction of the Mules in order to maintain and improve service between St. Louis and Kansas City and over the ensuing years of state subsidy, additional station stops were established at Washington, Hermann, Lee's Summit and Independence.

The Mule consisted of five Horizon cars and an Amcafé on the rear. There were very few passengers boarding and we departed on time and proceeded through all the railroad junctions on our way out of town. As the Mule climbed the hill towards Independence, I went to the Horizon dinette car to get my dinner, where the attendant played a 'guess what I have left' game. I was lucky as he still had a hot dog, chocolate chip cookies and Mountain Dew and he informed me that there had been four hundred passengers this morning going to Hermann for one of the five weekend Octoberfest events being held there and advised me to buy anything that I needed before we arrive as the crowd can be pretty bad and I wondered how it wouuld compare with the Del Mar racing crowd back on the San Diegan?. We stopped at the nicely-restored Independence depot before venturing out across the rolling landscape of the State of Missouri. Later, we passed through California, Missouri and I thought it was an odd name until I remembered that there was a Mexico, Missouri as well. For interest's sake, in 1846, the Postal Service required a new name to be selected for Boonsborough since there was already a Boonsborough in Missouri so the city was renamed to California on January 25, 1847, for the territory on the West Coast that was just then drawing attention due to progress of the overland railroad. In the very last light of day, we ran along the Missouri River into Jefferson City, the state capital.

The conductor put up some green tags around the seats in my area of the coach for a group getting on in Washington and asked me to keep those seats clear for him when the mob boarded. As we arrived at Hermann, I saw three paramedic units with their lights flashing in the night before we came to the depot with a mob similar to Solana Beach during Del Mar on Train 585, where my good friends and conductors Lawrence Dixon and Peter McNamara would face the crowds five nights a week. The Mule was delayed ten minutes while the passengers, who ranged from completely sober to falling down drunk, boarded. I shooed people out of the green-tagged seats in the same manner as I help keep people out of custom class back home and there was a rather large man being loud and obnoxious.

Once the train was underway, there were the usual people falling into seats on the way to the lounge car, those trying to start sing-a-longs and one person in the next car swearing at the top of his lungs. Other than that, I sat back and listened to "Blondie Live from London", then at Washington, the green tag passengers boarded and at Kirkwood, the suburban stop for St. Louis, we lost about seven or eight of the Hermann Octoberfest crowd with the train almost returning to its quiet state. We passed the shed and signal bridge of the old St. Louis Union Station before arriving at the still-temporary Amtrak station a mere eight minutes late. My final conclusion was that while the Hermann Octoberfest crowd was wild and interesting, they were not in the same league as Del Mar Racing crowds with no arrests, no strip teases and no one thrown off the train.

Inside the station, I checked on the status of the Sunset Limited I would be connecting with tomorrow night in New Orleans and learned that it was six hours late and had not reached El Paso yet so I was glad to have booked a fourteen-hour layover in Jacksonville, Florida. I purchased a St. Louis Amtrak mug before waiting for the driver to take me to Carbondale and with just two passengers tonight, the company decided to use a twelve passenger van for the trip and we left town passing Kiel Center as a St. Louis Blues game was letting out, then drove by Busch Stadium where the Cardinals play baseball before getting on the freeway and crossing the Mississippi River with a great view of the Gateway Arch and the river boats as the van entered Illinois. My back seat ride was quite bumpy and I was all too happy to escape the confines of that van when we arrived at the Carbondale Amtrak station. While waiting for the City of New Orleans to arrive, I chatted with the other van passenger, Jennie, and learned that she was going to Hammond, Louisiana to see her father in the hospital and to help drive him back home to Jackson, Mississippi. All too soon, the conductor took our tickets and when the train arrived, escorted each of us out to the proper car door to board. Now that's what I call service!

Waiting at the coach door was an attractive and smiling Marci Toca, who gave me directions to come on board and later joined me at my seat to introduce herself and asked if there was anything that I needed. She thought that I had ridden with her before and she looked very familiar. However, behind her pleasant and smiling attitude, she was carrying some extremely sad news. On her northbound trip at Chicago, as she was detraining her passengers, someone had rifled through her belongings and stole her wallet, including money and credit cards so spent the short layover in Chicago on the phone to the credit card companies, which I commiserated with her on as I had personal experience since I had lost my wallet on the Coaster in San Diego two years ago, but luckily received everything back thanks to an honest person. I prayed that she also might be as lucky. I laid down across my two seats and prepared myself to sleep but still had a milestone to observe.

The train departed Carbondale about twenty minutes late and started its sprint through the night and I stayed up, for within twenty miles, would pass 300,000.0 rail miles and looking out at the darkened Illinois countryside, doubted that I would have ever reached it had I still been drinking and moreover, do not think I would even be alive if I had not made that very important decision to quit drinking on January 17th, 1995. Thank God that I did and I live life one day at a time and riding the rails one mile at a time. The train sped through the little sleepy town of Anna, Illiinois and I attained it. No major celebrations - just me, a speeding train, the night and a smile was all that was needed. For myself with mission accomplished, I stretched out across my two seats and fell fast asleep.

10/12/1997 Memphis came early, still under the veil of darkness, so other than a quick peek out of my window, I went back to sleep for another hour and awoke in very northern Mississippi. I went to the lounge car for breakfast and returned to my seat to enjoy the mile after mile of cotton fields ready for the harvest and wondered how many balls of cotton it took to make the shirt I was wearing. At Greenwood, there was a crew change and in the small world department, who came walking down the aisle than conductor Alex Popodopolaus, formerly of San Diegan fame and ss soon as I heard his first announcement, felt right at home. We exchanged pleasantries, much to the amazement of the other passengers, who could not believe that we really knew each other.

The City of Nwe Orleans made great time down the Yazoo District of the Illinois Central and stopped at Yazoo City, a favourite name of mine. I spent the morning studying the trees as they were very prevalent then from Jackson to past Hammond, I sat back and enjoyed our passage through the Louisiana countryside. We stopped for a moment at a red signal at Acela siding as I was watching the bayous then met the northbound City of New Orleans by the airport before we reversed into New Orleans Union Station only ten minutes off the scheduled arrival time. I said goodbye to Marci as I walked towards the station, already knowing that the Sunset Limited was six hours late then as I entered, a car mechanic, Janet, whom I know, asked if I was connecting with the Sunset, to which I replied yes. She suggested that I get a hotel room as she did not expect it to arrive until 5:30 AM tomorrow morning. I told her I did not mind as I wouuld be able to see most of the route east to Jacksonville in daylight, to which she responded with a laugh and remarked that only I could find something good in everything and that is what makes you so special on the earth! I said my goodbyes to Janet then walked into the station.

Union Pacific had merged with Southern Pacific last year and a short time later, experienced major service disruptions on the Sunset Route, especially in and around Houston. When I had booked the trip, I knew about the Sunset's time-keeping problems eastbound so booked a connection on the Silver Palm with a fourteen-hour and forty minute layover via telephone with Amtrak, although the agent repeatedly said it would not be necessary and insisted that I connect with the Silver Meteor. I won in the end and proved that sometimes the customer is usually right.

Inside I went to the ticket counter with a couple of connecting passengers and learned that Amtrak would put us on an on-time Thruway bus or we could wait at our own expense. When we further questioned, the female black ticket agent who did not have a name tag, advised us to go to passenger services and when we asked where that was, she was very offhand and told us to go and find it. We indeed did find passenger services and voiced our opinions, which fell on deaf ears but I was able to use their phone to try and reserve a room. However, their prices were too high, so decided to walk the ten minutes to the Maison St. Charles Hotel where I had stayed before since there was no taxi available.

As a repeat customer and a AAA member, the nightly rate was very reasonable and I checked in, wrote and mailed a few post cards then a group of Sunset Limited sleeping car passengers saw me and offered to get me back to the station at 4:45 AM tomorrow morning. I had dinner at Shoney's next door, rode the St. Charles Streetcar line in the rain and returned to the room for an unexpected shower to complete my night in New Orleans then had a good rest.

10/13/1997 My day started with a complimentary taxi ride back to the station with my sleeping car friends and the Sunset Limited arrived in New Orleans at 5:00 AM, just eleven hours and thirty-five minutes late.

Would this train arrive in Jacksonville, Florida, where I was connecting to the Silver Palm, on Day 999 or Day 1,000 of my sobriety? The conductor believed the connection should be very easy and we left town still under the blanket of night, with Amtrak providing a free breakfast of eggs and hash browns. Since I cannot eat eggs, I was given a dinner roll, some bacon and a cup of tea then stopped at the lounge car for some cookies to fill me up. It was an overcast morning as the train proceeded east, escaping the realm of New Orleans without any more delays and crossed the waterway to Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. The Gulf of Mexico was windy and by Gulfport, we were engulfed by a heavy downpour but I was enjoying this journey as it should all be in daylight with no further delays almost all the way to Jacksonville. We stopped next in Biloxi then made our way to Pascagoula where offshore oil platforms are built. As we made our way through the forests to Mobile, Alabama, I reflected on the greatest gift of train travel, which is the ability to sit back and take the world in as it passes outside the window. This morning, it was all too soon that the Sunset left the forest and paralleled the harbour to reach our next stop at Mobile and we had made up twenty minutes.

For the next half an hour, we travelled into the watery environment created by the Alabama River and its sister streams, including Big Bayou Canot, where the Sunset detrailed into the water on September 22, 1993 after having been hit by a barge. It was the deadliest derailment in Amtrak's history and was caused by a negligent towboat operator and foggy conditions. This photograph is the going-away view.

We returned to dry land and passed through Hurricane, Alabama, which, during the Civil War, was called Tensaw Station, the final station on the Mobile and Great Northern Railroad, a crucial link in connecting Montgomery to Meridian. Because of a rail gap between Montgomery and Selma, wartime soldiers and supplies were routed on trains from Montgomery to Tensaw Station via Pollard, then transferred to steamship headed for Mobile, to be reloaded on trains to Meridian. A post office called Hurricane Bayou was established in 1877, the name was changed to Hurricane in 1895 and the post office closed in 1962. The community was named for the fact a hurricane had struck the area.

The Sunset proceeded northeast through many miles of southern forest to our next stop in Ardmore then we passed a few more cotton fields ready for harvest and arrived at Flomaton before we turned to the south to run down into the western panhandle of Florida. On a previous journey, I awoke here, so everything from east was being seen for a first time in daylight. Our coach was running like an ice box so on behalf of my fellow passengers, ventured forward to the crew sleeper to find a conductor to take care of the problem and he turned off the malfunctioning air conditioner which needs to be worked on by a shop crew. We entered the state of Florida and half an hour later, passed through a CSX yard before turning to the east and soon entering the station at Penscacola, only to find out that our new crew was given a time an hour later to report than our arrival. I took the advantage of the warm sunny weather to enjoy the outside temperature then had a nice conversation with a lady from San Antonio and a beautiful lady from Australia before reboarding the train and reversing two-tenths-of-a-mile to depart east. Due to the extra half hour station stop, we departed ten hours and fifty minutes late.

Leaving town, we ran for a couple of miles east along Pensacola Bay before crossing it on a more than two mile-long concrete viaduct then continued through the thin pine forest of Florida to our next stop at Crestview, which was just a shelter and platform, before we travelled past Skoal Ranch, where the owners had fenced the land and cleared some of it; ranching is a major industry in this state. In fact, the word "cowboy" was coined in Florida. We went back into the forest and the crew announced that connecting passengers would use the Silver Palm for points in Southern Florida, this train would terminate in Sanford and passengers going beyond there south to the Disney Corridor or to points on the West Coast, would be bussed from there. I still wondered if anyone did take the on-time bus that was offered to us in New Orleans?

Earlier today, before Pensacola, I performed part of the Mrs. Richards skit from "Fawlty Towers" for some New Zealand ladies and one walked by, saying that she would never forget me and thanked me for the laughs, adding that for her, I would always be known as 'Mr. Fawlty Towers!" Someday I must thank John Cleese for my new title. What is really unique is my ability to notice when someone is down and do something about it. My sense of humour has come in handy many times on just this trip and made that unfriendly encounter in New Orleans even funny. The countryside became rolling hills covered with forests as we proceeded towards Chipley, our next stop but made it as far as Westville, where our brakeman detrained to line us into a siding to wait for CSX 7813 West, my first freight train delay of the journey.

This freight train was the very hot intermodal train 101 and we had to wait to receive block authority since we were in Direct Block Authority, or Track Warrant Control, territory and our crew must receive the blocks for future movements east. For example, it is similar to San Diegan 769 going to Santa Barbara and receiving all the blocks from Moorpark to Santa Barbara so it can travel straight there, other than stops at stations, and then relinquishes each block to the dispatcher as it passes through, so other trains behind, such as the Coast Starlight, can use them. Throughout the day, I had been unable to determine the reason the Sunset Limited became so late but the lounge attendant said that they did not leave Los Angeles until after midnight which put them out of their slot in the flow of eastbound traffic.

We made it to Chipley and left eleven hours and twenty-four minutes late, a new record for me to this point. The timetable showed that it only 255 miles to Jacksonville and I wondered what would happen next? I went to the lounge car for the scenery on the left of the train and met an Australian gentleman and his wife, a woman from Biloxi and another from New Orleans. We joked and laughed with discussion on how corrupt Biloxi is, closing off the town to Air Force personnel and and places to visit in the western United States. The announcement came of the complimentary dinner time so we ventured into the dining car for a choice of barbecued ribs or a quarter of a chicken, which I had and for a free meal, it was not bad.

I returned to my coach seat as we arrived in Tallahassee, the state capital of the Sunshine State, in the last half hour of daylight and by the time Train 2 reached Madison, we were back into night time mode; it had been a very memorable day of daylight train riding on an all-night route. I went back to the lounge car and watched most of "Selena" which was quite enjoyable. We stopped in Madison then reversed three-tenths-of-a-mile to a grade crossing to refuel our locomotives and while the film was playing, we reached Lake City. Upon its completion, I returned to my coach to listen to the Rolling Stones then we reversed into the Jacksonville Amtrak station eleven hours and one minute late and said goodbye to everyone in my car, did one last Manuel joke before detraining into a very nice Florida night. It had been a special and unique eastbound trip on the Sunset Limited.

Waiting for an only thirty minute late Silver Palm was not a chore as I watched the Washington Redskins vs. Dallas Cowboys football game, caught up on today's activities and mailed a postcard with Day 999 on it then counted down the minutes to midnight, which would start Day 1,000 three hours earlier than in California where it was only 9:00 PM Day 999. When midnight arrived, I called my mother, my brother Bruce, Carol in Oregon, Hedy Carnett, Jeff Hartmann and Karen Lizzi, the Amtrak agent in Solana Beach, who produced my tickets for this trip. Following that, I wrote a letter to Amtrak's Customer Service Center about the New Orleans "Go find it!" incident as the Silver Palm was now an hour- and-a-half late. What a way to start Day 1,000, but at least I was not at home, bored and drinking like in the old days

Following the arrival of the northbound Silver Palm, about twenty minutes later, the conductor took my ticket inside the Jacksonville depot and after a short wait, the southbound Silver Palm arrived. As the conductor took the tickets, it was "Silver Meteor seats 1 and 2 for you two, Silver Meteor seats 3 and 4 for you two, Silver Meteor seats 5 and 6 for you" since those passengers had missed their connection with the Silver Meteor. However, when he looked at my ticket, he said "Silver Palm you can have both seats 7 and 8" on what became a very crowded train. I fell asleep and slept soundly all the way until the train approached Tampa where it was wyed prior to its arrival so it could continue straight to Miami upon departure. Amtrak in Tampa is just a station as the crew and maintenance base was closed to save money when trains stopped terminating here and as a result, there was just a single live track as all others were gathering rust. We departed a little over an hour late and I was riding eastbound out of Tampa for the first time, although I had ridden over a short new piece of trackage on the way into Tampa, the northwest leg of the wye linking the Ocala Line with the Tampa Line.

I switched to a window seat on the left because I always had the right side of Slumbercoach rooms and had never seen the view. Between Lakeland and Auburndale, there were two nice lakes then we rode the southwest leg of the wye at Auburndale to join up with the route of all the other Silver Class trains to Miami, and minutes later pulled into my old friendly Winter Haven station. From here to Miami was new sober trackage for me to reclaim for my sobriety.

Leaving the citrus groves behind, ranching took over being man's main use of the land, except where water had invaded and in Florida, water was quite prevalent. This part of the state was as flat as a pancake with very little gain in elevation, except for the fill that the tracks are on. I walked the length of the train, noting ther were two P42-8 locomotives, a material handling car, two Viewliner sleeping cars, a diner, an Amlounge 2, four 60-seat Amcoaches and a baggage car on the rear. We arrived at Sebring, where the station was undergoing a large restoration and miles of orange groves were passed, so here is where all the orange trees from Orange County, California came to retire! We went into the siding at Bassenger to let the northbound Silver Meteor pass, doing 79 mph then arriving in Okeechobee, we passed the Okeechobee Livestock Market with trucks lined up to bring them plenty of business. About fifteen minutes from Palm Beach, an elderly gentleman sat by me and told me his whole life story without me asking to hear it. During the War, he was the foreman for trucking at the Bethlehem Steel Ship Works and said that they built 440 ships during the four-year war, launching one every three days. He lived in York, Pennsylvania for four years and the rest of his life in West Palm Beach.

As we neared Miami, the stops grew closer together and we stopped in West Palm Beach, Delray Beach, Deerfield Beach, Fort Lauderdale and Hollywood. Outside Deerfield Beach, we waited for a northbound eleven-car Silver Star to pass on its way to New York and way off to the northwest, I caught a glimpse of Joe Robbie Stadium, home of the National Football League's Miami Dolphins. The Silver Palm then passed the CSX Yard and Amtrak's Hialeah Maintenance Facility before arriving at Miami's Amtrak station, one hour and fifty-five minutes late and this had completed my goal of riding the entire Amtrak system sober, every route and mile, ending on my one thousandth day. I felt extremely proud of myself as I detrained.

It is important to note that Amtrak does not stop downtown, but rather Hialeah, a suburb approximately nine miles away. I walked into the station to find the first class lounge was under construction so went to the ticket counter and they stored my bags. Since this was Day 1,000 of my sobriety, I had promised to send postcards to many people and being a man of my word, I set off on a quest. There were none at the station, so I walked over to the Tri-Rail station to see about riding their service, but the tardiness on the Silver Palm negated that option. I then asked a few people if anyone in Hialeah sold postcards and received a strong answer of "No!" so I returned to the Tri-Rail station and asked the Metrorail Transit Police Officer if he knew where I could buy some. He sugggested I take Metrorail to Government Center and would find all I needed there and showed me how to use the system. Within eight minutes, I was riding my first Metrorail train, an all-elevated system which alleviates the necessity of grade crossings and negates the issue of trespassers. It rode smooth, fast and provided excellent vistas of the greater Miami area as well as a striking view of downtown. Orange County could use a system just like this for some of our transit needs. I detrained at Government Center and with the help of a nice gentleman, was pointed the correct way to the shop where I bought a sixteen postcard pack and retraced my path back to Hialeah, where I went to the post office to write and mail the cards. Quest complete!

I returned to the Amtrak station and managed to get call McFadden Intermediate and chat with the science teacher, Mrs. Angle, and her children were amazed that I was talking to her from Florida, although my conversation was interrupted by an over-impatient conductor who thought that I was going to miss the train.

I gave the conductor my ticket and walked down the long length of the platform to my Viewliner sleeper 62046 "Tranquil View", my first experience with this type of car and a gift to myself for this important day. The most striking feature I noticed was the two rows of windows which let the natural light pour in. If travelling with a partner, when the upper bed was lowered from the roof, they would a full window, is a vast improvement from the darkness of the upper bunk in a Superliner sleeper. Since I was travelling alone, I would enjoy the natural light that came in through my two windows. The hallway door had a three quarter window to the right of it and unlike all the other sleeping cars that had curtains, the Viewliner used shades which I preferred as it gave the room a more open feel to it.

The seats were like those in a Superliner economy room and can be made into the lower bunk. There was a folding table but the cupholders were located in the padded armrests and there were two air levels that could be adjusted by sliding the handle. The side windows had the usual curtains, luggage space wais located above the hallway and was easily reached by standing on the commode, which was seat-height with a sink that folded down, complete with an ice water faucet. Above the sink was a panel which showed a red light to let you known that the sink is down. Up over the mirror light switch was the toilet out-of-service light, toilet flush button and the 120 volt outlet. Above all this was the mirror, a cup dispenser and a coat hook on the right rear side wall.

Located above both seats were reading lights, music and video controls along with the room light switches and on the far end wall to the right of the seat, a video monitor with air vents above and below. The television and audio controls were located on a panel below the monitor then up over the television was the room thermostat with the room speaker controls next to them. Above where the upper bunk comes down were the controls for that area of the room. On the hallway wall was another coat hook and a strap to hold garments in place. There you have it, the Viewliner sleeper as I first experienced it. Amtrak, could we please have Superliner cars with this room style?

The northbound Silver Palm departed on time just as the southbound Silver Meteor arrived from New York. We proceeded north, making all the same stops but in reverse order and met a southbound Tri-Rail commuter train just after Delray Beach. The videos then started the first being an episode of "Coach" followed by an "Andy the Panda" cartoon before the film "Liar, Liar". Walking to the dining car, I noticed that the end doors were really two doors that split apart when you press the control button and were unlike any other door on the entire Amtrak system. My dinner was a steak sandwich with a very nice lady who had survived an airline crash then near the end of dinner, we discussed my alcoholism and the goal that I attained today. I enjoyed a piece of key lime pie before returning to my room to watch "McHale's Navy". At Winterhaven, I turned off the film and made the lower bunk then prayed, thanking God for my 1,000 days of sobriety, all the opportunities I have been given and the freedom to live without the bonds of alcohol, as well as for my friends and family. With that last deed done, I was off to dreamland.

10/15/1997 I had wondered how sleep would be in a Viewliner Sleeper and when I woke up I had the answer - almost twelve hours of solid sleep with great dreams included. I had slept from North of Winterhaven to south of Dillon, South Carolina. I would have to say that I did what a traveller in a sleeping car was supposed to do. I went to the diner, Amtrak 8509, nee Northern Pacific 453, for a breakfast of waffles and bacon built in 1947 then returned to my room to freshen up and to take in the scenery of South Carolina for the first time in daylight. Now if I took the Silver Meteor south of here, I would see the whole route in daylight. As we departed Dillon, we began to enter a weather front that started to deposit light rain on the train as we sped north through miles of forests.

We entered North Carolina passing through forests, cotton fields and small towns, including a stop at Fayetteville on the way to Rocky Mount with its large CSX Yard. The Silver Palm had made excellent time so far, as we had to dwell for five minutes in Rocky Mount to wait for our scheduled departure time. As we continued the dash north, I was off to the dining car for a lunch of a hamburger and dined with the same lady I did last night, discussing how well we both slept and she told me more about the airplane crash that she lived through when in Japan after I had told her about a man's suicide in the path of a Capitol Corridor train south of Oakland that I was riding.

We entered Virginia and I started to notice that the deciduous trees were beginning their transition into autumn colours and it was a good sign of what should be ahead tomorrow if my expectations were correct. We departed Petersburg on time and I was impressed by the operation of our train over the CSX after I had heard how poorly CSX handles passenger trains. Their handling of the Silver Palm on this occasion could be summed up in a single word, excellent! I received my morning paper and read that the Florida Marlins had clinched the National League East by beating the Atlanta Braves, so if the Cleveland Indians could come through now, that would be a unique World Series. I enjoy reading USA Today when I travel, especially the weather page, so I knew what to expect later today in New York and tomorrow in Toronto. We crossed the James River then outpaced a CSX freight through the Richmond yards before arriving at the Richmond's Staples Mill Road Amtrak station early.

Here we would lose one of our locomotives so I had time for a picture of our train and to buy a "hugs and kisses from Richmond" postcard. We departed on time and quickly returned to the forest of mostly pines with the deciduous showing leaf colours of various brightness.

The Silver Palm passed the first of the many Virginia Rail Express stations, which meant we were fast approaching the Washington, DC metro area. This was the first time I had entered this area from an east-side facing room and it did not dawn on me until now that all my other trips had been on the west side of the train. I really enjoyed the view as we crossed the many inlets of the Potomac River then entered the Alexandria Amtrak station with a Tropicana train pacing us into town, while across in the distance, a Washington Metro train was on its way to town. We departed on schedule, ending our journey over the CSX Railroad and I had my first glimpse of the United States Capitol building to the northeast just before we crossed the Potomac River and a few minutes later, entered the Capitol Tunnel and went right under that building before arriving at Washington Union Station.

I stepped off while the crew changed our motive power from diesel to electric for the journey along the Northeast Corridor to my final destination of New York. Our new engine was E60 606, but our train had some sort of a delay, so we departed thirty-seven minutes late. Just before we left, the combined Southwest Chief/Capitol Limited (an initiative which had been started this year) arrived on the next track, four hours late, and I thought that a lot could happen in such a long distance between Los Angeles to Washington, DC via Chicago.

I had been waiting for this test all day to see how well a Viewliner Sleeper rode at speed up the Northeast Corridor and it passed with flying colours and was a super car in which to ride. For dinner, I had another steak sandwich with a key lime pie dessert; there is nothing like dining at high speed. I returned to my room and listened to the new Rolling Stones tape while I enjoyed the journey and was a well-deserved treat, then pulled the hall shade down and turned off the light at Wilmington, Delaware, watching the passing scenery go by. My mind wandered from plans for future trips to how was my football team doing against Sierra Intermediate right now and how they did versus Lathrop Intermediate yesterday and I would phone Albert, my assistant coach, when I arrived in New York.

We arrived in Philadelphia eight minutes early and since we were now a "D" train in the timetable, departed ahead of schedule. I relaxed, enjoyed the rhythm of the rails and the night time scenery then just past Newark, New York City came into view and was then blocked by the hill on which Hoboken stands, and gave these hills a great back lighting. We plunged into the Hudson River Tunnel and my sleeping car attendant came to say that the gift that I was to have received as a passenger was a bottle of wine, but he knew that I would not want it. We arrived at Penn Station New York forty minutes early, thus ending my first Viewliner sleeper experienced.

I made my way to the Southgate Towers and checked in, receiving a room on the 19th floor but had no hot water. I called Albert about the team, learning that the Lathrop game was cancelled due to high winds and smoke from the Lemon Heights Fire fanned by the Santa Ana winds, also sometimes referred to as The Devil's Wind. They played Sierra and lost as none of my orders were carried out, although my defense did play its usual excellent game but we lost by having an interception run back. I would have liked to be back home for the make-up game, but Amtrak's rules did not allow for any changes, so the team would have to play without my services. I called it a night, wishing that I could have been there to make a difference, but life must go on without me there!

10/16/1997 I awoke to the sound of a clock radio blasting and took another cold shower then watched the Weather Channel as I packed before checking out and walked to McDonald's for breakfast. I went into Penn Station and watched the departure board for the Maple Laef for Toronto. Yes, "Maple Laef" was how they spelled "Maple Leaf", a mistake that no one else noted.

We departed New York City on time and proceeded up the Westside Connection on a dark and overcast morning, stopping at Spuyten Duyvil due to a reverse commute Metro-North train. There was a colourful view across the Hudson River if only the lighting would improve. I went to the lounge car where I helped clean up a mess that a leaking coffee maker had made then showed the attendant, Bruce, how to elevate his stock to keep it dry in the future. I had helped Linda Paul, the Lead Service Attendant, on the San Diegan, several times with this problem and wondered if it could be the same car.

The journey along the Hudson was beautiful with the trees across the river in various stages of colour with the reddish ones standing out the most. It was hard to take good photographs as the growth of the vegetation along the river bank was so high, but it is still an incredible view. The upper Hudson Valley above Poughkeepsie was clear with a steady north wind blowing, making it a gorgeous autumn day and as it was bright and sunny out, the sun brought out the colours even more so. Near Hudson, the clouds returned but the scene was still beautiful and upon our arrival at Albany-Rensselaer, I bought and mailed some postcards, including one to Linda to tell her of this morning's coffee-maker incident then bought a Delaware and Hudson magazine before reboarding the train for Toronto.

We departed on schedule and crossed the Hudson River then at Schenectady, met the eastbound Lake Shore Limited with the privately-owned dome-observation car "Silver Solarium" bringing up its rear markers. We stopped at Amsterdam, Utica and Rome, followed by a thirty-minute sprint to Syracuse, also a smoking stop. I ventured outside in my shorts and T-shirt while everyone else was bundled up but the cool air really felt good and I thought about all the beauty I just witnessed and just how quickly a lifetime dream can pass.

After an on-time departure I did a word search puzzle and sat back to enjoy the upper New York countryside. We had been running under a clear sky since Albany but were now proceeding into a sky of broken cumulous clouds, which made for a very nice sky. Rochester was another smoking stop which allowed some fresh air and a walk through the station, then Customs documents were distributed. The countryside had taken on a more agricultural appearance as we approached Buffalo. There had been a lack of Conrail freight trains today as we only have passed one. We arrived in Buffalo nine minutes early which gave me plenty of time to fill out the Customs forms then I detrained for some fresh air and five minutes after departure, we passed the remains of Buffalo Union Station in its present state of decay, although it was still an impressive building.

Leaving the downtown Buffalo station, we passed the east end of Lake Erie followed by a mile of running along the Erie Canal and the Niagara River with Fort Erie, Canada visible beyond. About twenty minutes later, we stopped in the middle of a large field with no announcements or anything of the sort. I believed it was to change tracks but three gentlemen looked really worried. I noticed that the trees here were in the early stages of colour-changing, but less than a mile west, they were not and I surmised it must be a micro-climate. We stopped in Niagara Falls, New York for some more fresh air and with a sudden drop in outside temperature, I returned inside to don the correct clothing to enjoy the much cooler outdoor air. We departed on time, passed a Norfolk Southern freight train on the International Bridge and entered Canada then train stopped in front of VIA Rail's Niagara Falls station, where Canadian Customs officials were ready to board.

First the drug-sniffing dogs were bought aboead and checked the entire train before the agents started their work. Customs went well for me as I had all my documents out and ready and the agent looked at my driver license's signature and my work card, than asked "Have you ever been denied entrance into Canada before? With my answer being "No!", she looked at my luggage tags on my bags and said "Have a nice stay." The poor person in front of me was not so lucky as he had his bags inspected and it looked for a while as if they were not going to let him into Canada. When the agent asked if he had a return ticket, with an answer of yes being given, they then left him alone. We were there for an hour and thirteen minutes before the officials were done and our new Canadian passengers were allowed to board. The VIA conductor took all the tickets, but that poor man in front of me had his ticket kept by Customs, although he was on the train's manifest, so it was not a problem.

I went to the snack car, now stocked by VIA, with a VIA attendant, and ordered four items for the price that I paid for three on Amtrak. I was back in my seat at St. Catherines, Ontario to enjoy my evening meal and the hot dog with a soft sesame seed bun far outdid its Amtrak counterpart. Lays barbecue potato chips and a Mirage chocolate bar rounded it out. The Maple Leaf passed through an agricultural area next with orchards and vineyards; Canada does produce wines in several areas of the country. At one point, I could see Toronto across Lake Ontario before our route swung around the west end of the lake and the clouds had taken control of the sky as we stopped at the shelter at Grimsby before proceeding out across the Ontario farmlands once more.

We sped through Hamilton and I did not understand why this train stops in a small town such as Grimsby but not a city like Hamilton. We passed its forlorn station before we joined Canadian National's main line at Bayview Junction then travelled to our next stop of Aldershot, a joint VIA/GO Transit station, passing GO train and my mind flashed to Metrolink back home, which had some GO Transit coaches on lease. At this point, we were maintaining VIA corridor track speed and had not gone this fast since before Albany this morning. While the sun had set a while ago, there was still a red hue in the sky which was very beautiful.

We arrived at Oakville then upon our departure, it was only twenty miles to Toronto and a night at the Royal York Hotel, where I have always wanted to stay. The Maple Leaf certainly lived up to its name today and as we passed the Skydome CN Tower, I felt so lucky to be alive and sober arriving in Toronto on one of the best days of my life.

I detrained and went in search of a tunnel leading from the station to the Royal York Hotel and found the GO Transit counter to obtain a system timetable, but all they had were single line timetables so I took a set then cut through the subway station and found a tunnel lined with stores that led me to the Royal York. It seems that downtown Toronto is laced with a system of underground tunnels to keep the residents out of the fiercely cold temperatures and harsh weather. I stopped along the way to buy a couple of postcards before I went to the front desk and checked in, receiving a room on the third floor and when I opened the door, found a suite so much larger than the one I stayed in at the Le Meridian in New Orleans, and was the best room that I have ever stayed in. I freshened up and called home, then watched a quarter of Thursday Night Football of San Diego Chargers versus Kansas City Chiefs before watching the Canadian Weather Channel and had to convert the temperatures from Celsius to Fahrenheit and wind speed to miles per hour so I could relate to them. I then turned in for the night and had an excellent sleep.

10/17/1997 The wakeup call came and soon after the television was on to the Weather Channel, where a temperature of 2 degrees Celsisus or 34 degrees Farenheit, was announced for Toronto's current reading but it did not matter to be as I would only be out in it for a few moments trackside while waiting to board my train. I took comfort in a hot shower, a vast difference from New York City, then checked out and returned by the tunnels to Toronto Union Station, where I had a MacDonald's breakfast of hot cakes and sausage then bought one more Canadian postcard and mailed it out in front of the station with the air really feeling crisp before I returned inside.

It is normal practice for a VIA locomotive to lead this consist and today was no different, with VIA F40PH-2 6426, built by General Motors Division in 1987 leading the Superliner consist bound for Chicago, as I found when I walked up to track 10. We were a VIA train to Port Huron and an Amtrak train beyond that to Chicago. I was looking forward to the trackage from London, Ontario to Port Huron, Michigan through the St. Clair Tunnel as that was something I missed last summer due to a Canadian National freight train derailment and being bussed eastbound between the two points. We departed on time and while I have been on this track before, this was my first daylight trip over the Canadian portion of the route.

We made the first stop of the morning at Brampton, also a GO Transit station, so I knew I was still in the Toronto sphere of influence. At the city's limit, we proceeded into the Ontario countryside, passing through miles of fields and arrived in Georgetown, the last of the GO Transit stations on this line. The countryside took on an undulating aspect with the trees in their beautiful colours. Now bring on the sunshine! Coming into Guelph, we passed Canadian National 4-8-4 6217 on display before we stopped there then minutes later, went into the siding at Mosborough for VIA 84, The Huron, running almost on time. The brakeman had to throw the switch by hand so after we met 84, we reversed onto the main then picked him up. The joys of Canadian railroading.

We arrived at Kitchener just a mere eight minutes off schedule and to the right was a old brick factory of the H. Krug Furniture Company Limited. I always like to see old buildings still in use. We crossed more miles of fields before our next stop at Stratford, followed by a very brief fifteen-second stop at St. Marys. The tracks run adjacent to back yards through most of these small towns then west of town, there was a rather large cement plant on the right before the landscape returned to being more flat with us making good time and arrived in London early, where I filled out my US Custom form while we were stopped.

From London to Port Huron was new trackage and would include my first trip through the St. Clair River Tunnel. Upon exiting, I will have crossed into Canada on dry land on the Mount Baker International and the Adirondack, across a bridge on the Maple Leaf and now through a tunnel on this International. We left London on time but came to a quick halt waiting for an eastbound Canadian National freight to clear. We travelled for another eight miles out of town, only to go into the siding for another Canadian National freight, then at Komoka, we had a slow order and sitting atop a telephone box was a white teddy bear. We paused at a shelter at Strathroy before beginning our forty mile sprint to Sarnia across the open farmlands and passed the Village of Wyoming, on the former Great Western Railway line, a strange name for a community in Ontario. We arrived in Sarnia and sat for fifteen minutes while a westbound Canadian National freight cleared the tunnel.

With our conductor's permission, I walked to the rear of the train to enjoy the ride through the St. Clair Tunnel and this is the west portal. The St. Clair Tunnel is the name for two separate rail tunnels which were built under the St. Clair River between Sarnia, Ontario and Port Huron, Michigan. The original, opened in 1891 and used until it was replaced by a new larger tunnel in 1994, was the first full-size subaqueous tunnel built in North America.

The second tunnel was built to handle intermodal rail cars with double-stacked shipping containers, which could not fit through the original tunnel or the Michigan Central Railway Tunnel in Detroit. By the early 1990's, Canadian National had commissioned engineering studies for a replacement tunnel to be built adjacent to the existing St. Clair River tunnel. In 1992, new CN president Paul Tellier foresaw that the railway would increase its traffic in the Toronto–Chicago corridor. The Canada-U.S. Free Trade Agreement was implemented in 1989 and discussions for a North American Free Trade Agreement between Canada, the United States and Mexico discussions were underway at that time (NAFTA was implemented in 1994). It was anticipated that import/export traffic on Canadian National's corridor would increase dramatically as a result. In 1993, Canadian National began construction of the newer and larger tunnel.

Unlike the first tunnel, which was hand-dug from both ends, the new tunnel was constructed using a tunnel boring machine named Excalibore. It started on the Canadian side and dug its way to the United States. The tunnel opened in late 1994, whereupon trains stopped using the adjacent original tunnel, whose bore was sealed. The new tunnel was dedicated on May 5, 1995 and measures 6,129 feet from portal-to-portal with a bore diameter of 27 feet 6 inches. It has a single standard gauge track that can accommodate all freight cars currently in service in North America; for this reason, the rail ferries were also retired in 1994 when the new tunnel opened.

We passed the Amtrak station before reversing into it on the original tunnel's grade line and started the US Customs process. The agents spent less than a minute with me before they moved back to the last four people who had not been checked. They then told us to exit the train but changed their minds once we were on the stairs before finally letting us exit. We now made a single file line placing our luggage in front of us and were directed to remain still and then to turn when told to do so. Next the drug-sniffing dog sniffed everyone's bags and sniffed us all from behind and when he got to me, he jumped up my back and licked my ear. I was then told to remain until they were finished. We were told to turn one more time and the dog sniffed us again but this time did not jump, then we were free to reboard. I stayed and was told the reason the dog did what he did was because if he think a person is really honest, he responds in that way. Well, I think that I was a really honest person, at least for the last 1,003 days.

I then learned that two of our passengers had been detained and while the rest of us were on the train ready to depart, it was announced that due to track work ahead, we would not depart until 2:30 PM. So I detrained, bought an Amtrak Michigan Service T-shirt and went for a half mile walk.

I returned to see a westbound Canadian National freight exiting the tunnel then chatted to a few people and all were told to reboard and at 2:45 PM, we departed Port Huron, proceeding southwest into a cloudy sky. Within twenty minutes, we were crawling through the Grand Trunk Western track project and the sky was becoming darker as we stopped at Lapeer, Michigan. The trees in this part of the state were in the very early stages of changing colour and the countryside had returned to farming so I decied to nap and while I slept, we met two freight trains and lost thirty minutes as a result. I was awoken by another freight train just before Flint, from which we departed two hours and sixteen minutes late. I listened to music and did word search puzzles before we stopped at Durand, home of the Michigan Railroad Museum, then were warned that 140 people would be boarding at our next stop in East Lansing and indeed, many Michigan State University students fled town on a Friday night.

The sky had an appearance of a jigsaw puzzle with the clouds arranged like pieces. Outside Battle Creek in a field, I spotted five deer with white spots, something I did not expect to see, then entering town and new since my last visit through here was Grand Trunk Western's installation of a main line fuelling facility and once into town, a new recreation center had been built, complete with indoor and outdoor pools. Upon leaving Battle Creek, we proceeded to Kalamazoo, which I think is a great name for a city. South of there, we turned off the Grand Trunk Western main line onto Amtrak-owned tracks for a sprint to Niles as night began then passed through Michigan City before turning onto the Conrail main line to Chicago. The shoreline of Lake Michigan really looks impressive, lit up by the smoking steel mills and the casinos. Just before Hammond-Whiting, Indiana, the Chicago skyline was visible across the lake and with the amount of the padding in the schedule and not having to wye the train, we arrived at Chicago Union Station two hours and seven minutes late.

Detraining from the International, I walked through the station, down a north platform, up the stairs, crossed the streets and entered the the Chicago and North Western station. I bought my Metra ticket and called my brother Bruce before boarding Metra Train 659 for Harvard with my destination being Arlington Heights. I enjoyed a peaceful ride in the cab then detrainied and since we had passed the Best Western Inn about a mile back, I carried my two bag through the cool crisp night air to the hotel where I checked in then called it a night.

10/18/1997 After over ten hours of sleep with my batteries fully recharged, I enjoyed an episode of "Brisco County Jr." which happened to have the Duluth and Northeastern steam engine 14 from the Fillmore and Western in it, followed by "On The Road with the NFL to Denver". I checked out and walked back to the Metra station on a beautiful clear and crisp autumn morning. As I sunned myself on a bench waiting for the train to Chicago, "Sitting on a Park Bench" from the Jethro Tull song "Aqualung" kept going through my head. Metra Train 618 arrived five minutes late and I boarded the cab car for the Windy City then stored my bags at the front door and listened to Queen while I enjoyed an engineer's view into Chicago.

It was a short walk to Union Station for a couple of Gold Coast Char Dogs and a shake, which had become a tradition for me then bought and mailed some postcards and waited for my next train. I had worked out how trains were boarded here, so when I stepped on the California Zephyr, I had time to return my luggage cart for a quarter. Every cent saved counts up towards buying something else!

I sat in my usual window seat on the right and we departed time as I felt I knew this route like the back of my hand. As we travelled through the western suburbs, I could spot stores that had gone out of business with new businesses in their place. Out in the country, only the seasons change and the crops adjust themselves to it. For example, the green corn planted in June was now either brown and decaying stalks or had been ploughed under. The wheat had been mostly harvested with winter wheat planted in its place. At Galva, we came to a halt due to signal problems as the 5:30 PM dinner reservations were called. This night, I choose to eat later at 7:30 PM. The public address system came alive again with a change in our problem to freight train interference and that we should be here only twenty minutes. Thirty-three minutes later, we resumed our race towards the setting sun and leaving Galesburg, we were routed down the Quincy Line to Waterman, then turned onto some unexpected new trackage since we curved up and over the Quincy Lines yard leads with a hump set pushing cars underneath as we passsed over, then travelled west until we reached BNSF's main line. We passed the Cameron Connection used by the Southwest Chief and sped off into the night and I had gained a more complete knowledge of the yard in Galesburg.

I listened to about half an hour of Van Halen before going to the lounge car to watch the beginning of "Selena" which I did not see on the Sunset Limited then was called into the dining car and had a New York strip steak and an ice cream sundae for dessert. I ate with an older lady returning to Omaha and two men going to Salt Lake City on business. Glaciation was the surprising topic at dinner and it amazed me how much I remembered about it after all those years. Thank you, Mr. Hannon, for being such an excellent geography teacher at Santa Ana College. Leaving Ottumwa, Iowa forty-seven minutes late, I was back in my seat doing word search puzzles and listening to "The Meeting", an album by Martin Barre of Jethro Tull and reflected on how lucky I was doing all this sober, meeting great people, having so many varied experiences and the corresponding memories. Once the album was complete, I called it a night as the we sped across western Iowa.

10/19/1997 I woke up under cloudy skies in eastern Colorado then went to the lounge car for my breakfast of milk, cookies and tea. I met Mary who is retired and loves to travel. I drew her a map of the Bananafish Copper Canyon trip route, something she definitely wanted to experience, and she told me of the Green Tortoise bus trip to Alaska. Mary was at the end of a VIA/Amtrak trip to Quebec and went to Boston and Staunton, Virginia, now on her way home to Portland, Oregon. We arrived at Denver on time and I detrained to buy and mail another postcard before returning to the train to stake out a seat in the lounge car and read the Denver Post.

We departed on time and continued west to the Rockies. Near the Big Ten curve, I spotted a lot of mule deer then at Coal Creek Canyon, the Zephyr entered the clouds and I wondered how much of this morning would be in limited visibility. Once into the tunnel district of the former Rio Grande, more deer were spotted along the curving route and the clouds gave our ascent a completely different prospective before we burst out into the bright sunlight at Rollinsville. The view became striking and in minutes, we plunged into Moffat Tunnel, the fourth longest in the western hemisphere. Emerging from its darkness into the sunshine, we were greeted with a view of the Winter Park ski area with very little snow, then stopped at Winter Park/Fraser before passing through Tabernash, the ice box of America at times, and continued to Granby and passed through Byers Canyon.

At Azure, the Zephyr came to a halt due to signal problems, the same location at which we had to stop during my last journey here.

The scene as we travelled through Little Gore Canyon. Since the clouds this morning, there had not been a cloud in the sky since, just a peaceful autumn day in the Rockies. We passed through Bond before stopping at Dell about twenty minutes later, at which time the head end power went out but returned two minutes later. After about thirty-five minutes with no announcements and my fellow passengers wondering why we are sitting here, I found the Train Chief and upon his asking the conductor, it was learned that there had been a mudslide blocking the tracks and that a crew with equipment had been called to clear it, with no telling how long we would be here. About an hour later, help arrived in the form of a high rail truck with a crew and thirty minutes after that, we crept forward, stopping along the way to remove objects that had fallen under the train and they managed to get the train past the slide, which was a car length long and five feet deep. The whole incident took more than two hours and proved to be very interesting.

The Zephyr passed through the beautiful Red Rock Canyon on its way west on a flashing yellow signal then at Range, we had a yellow-over-red signal with Denver and Rio Grande Western 5349 East sitting in the siding. Range lived up to its name as ranching is the main form of business in the valley. Amtrak Train 6, which we would normally meet at Dell when both trains are on time, waited behind him then minutes later, we passed some beautiful aspen trees along the bank of the Colorado River before meeting a BNSF freight at Dotsero. The public address system came alive with music as the train made its passage through Glenwood Canyon, enhancing the scene and the river was running at its normal level through the shadows of the canyon. We departed there two hours and twenty minutes late.

Twenty-five minutes west of Glenwood Springs, the 5:00 dinner reservations were called and I was seated with a husband who runs a correctional institution in Oregon, along with his wife, a nurse. She had a son who would not admit that he has a problem with alcohol and when she found out in our conversations that I was indeed an alcoholic, asked me all sorts of questions about myself and I provided here with answers as I never mind talking about what I truly am or anything on that subject. If I can help someone understand about alcoholism, I am performing a service and that is what a part of AA is, service to others. I had a nice steak dinner through all of the discussion before the servicing stop at Grand Junction, where I was able to have a nice after-dinner walk. We left town and I watched "My Best Friend's Wedding" as we passed through Ruby Canyon on a moonlit night, stopped briefly at Green River, Utah and departed there two hours and eight minutes late, where I called it a night.

10/20/1997 Waking briefly on the Salt Lake City platform with no activity occuring, I returned to my seat and fell back to sleep waking up east of Elko, Nevada. I freshened up and went to the dining car for breakfast with three elderly women who were travelling from Ottumwa, Iowa to Salem, Oregon and go on this trip every year. They used to take the Pioneer, which saved an extra day on the train. Hearing them talk, I realized just how much I truly miss my old friends, the Pioneer and the Desert Wind, on both of which I had great memories. During breakfast, the Zephyr stopped in both Elko and Carlin but we were still running two hours and thirteen minutes late.

I returned to the lounge car for a daylight trip through Palisade Canyon and the westward run along the Humboldt River across central Nevada's sage-filled valleys. The Valmy Coal Fire Generating Station was at full work on the north side of the valley, with the Jethro Tull song "Valley" playing in my mind. The truckers on Interstate 80 were having no problem pacing us, meaning they were all speeding since I do not remember the highway speed in Nevada being seventy-nine miles per hour! I napped throughboth Winnemuca and Lovelock then noted the Humboldt River Sink had water in it. We made good time to Fernley and west of there, I had a a surprise as the trees along the Truckee River were in full autumn colours and stood out beautifully against the desert backdrop. The Mustang Ranch was pointed out before we made our servicing stop at Sparks and I picked up a USA Today to learn the Cleveland Indians defeated the Florida Marlins in Game 2 of the World Series. We departed Sparks one hour and fifty-five minutes late.

We then made the short run to Reno and departed west to California. Outside of Reno, the aspens were wild in their golden colours and provided quite a show through Verdi and Floriston to just before Boca, where the show ended. We returned to the more traditional colours as the train climbed the east side of Donner Pass and enjoyed the views then stopped in Truckee before proceeding up Cold Stream Canyon to the Summit Tunnel and descending the west slope of Donner Pass. Our Train Chief announced that due to a mistake in communication, our narrator from the California State Railroad Museum had been told that our train was ten hours late, so he had taken a bus back to Sacramento. It was our sister train, the eastbound California Zephyr Train 6, that we had passed yesterday at Range, Colorado, which was ten hours late. The slide came down after our train passed, blocking their route until it could be cleared, so they sat as one unlucky train for ten hours. I think that it would be safe to say that our train, the westbound California Zephyr Train 5, was the Lucky Train!

West of Yuba Gap, the trees on the west slope were starting their incredible autumn colours and the American River Canyon was absolutely beautiful in the mid-afternoon light. We rounded Cape Horn and entered Colfax for a double stop. With all the trees I had on this trip, it was nice to see some in their normal state of being. We entered Tunnel 18 and stopped, sitting for two minutes before resuming our journey with no distant views of Sacramento as the air was much too hazy. We stopped in Roseville then passed the Roseville Diesel Shop and Southern Pacific's Roseville yard. Since the Union Pacific merger, they started a major improvement project to completely rebuild the yard from the ground up, a project that would take a couple of years, but when they are done the Union Pacific will have a brand new yard.

The Zephyr stopped in Sacramento before crossed its namesake river on its way to Davis over the Yolo bypass. The Davis depot looked extremely good before we continued our dash across the freshly-ploughed fields on our way to Suisan-Fairfield, our next brief stop prior to crossing the marshlands, the mothball fleet over the Carquinez Straits and into Martinez, where I detrained from the California Zephyr two hours and twelve minutes late.

I was off the Zephyr and made a beeline to the pay phone, first to call Hedy Carnett to see how our class had been doing at McFadden Intermediate, and secondly to Albert, to learn how our team did in the makeup game against Lathrop, which we won. I then called Karen in Solana Beach, thanking her for all the hard work she does with my tickets. Train 718 then arrived and I boarded the California coach-baggage and chose an end single seat since they were five inches wider. I slept from Turlock-Denair the rest of the way down the valley to Bakersfield and awoke just as the train arrived on time. I switched to the Thruway bus for the ride to Santa Ana and slept all the way to Los Angeles. From there to Santa Ana, Caltrans was doing night-time freeway construction on every freeway our driver tried to take, so our arrival at Santa Ana was thirty minutes late. I was in bed by 4:15 AM with the clock set for 6:00 AM t return to work after finishing another fantastic Amtrak adventure.

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