[?]

Reclaiming Eastern Canada for my Sobriety 8/7-25/1999 Part 2

I chose four seats together in a former New York Central coach as this was what I termed a day of rest since I had been over the line and photographed it yesterday. I started sleeping most of the way back to Parent since with the very early morning wake-up call and knowing that I would not get to Toronto until 11:30 PM, thought it a good idea to get the additional rest. I slept so well that I was in dreamland when we passed a Canadian National freight, then once awake, the views were similar to that of a painting every time we went past a lake with whatever was on its shore reflected in the water and with so many lakes on this route, it was a continuous art show. To enhance the scenery, it was a clear day with just a few bands of high clouds.

I stepped off at Parent for a quick picture before watching Quebec's scenery fill my window. We were running late from that earlier meet with the freight so we sped by Rapide des Coeurs and did track speed across the causeway then lined ourselves into the siding at Duplessis and waited for Canadian National 9467 West to pass. I bought a Chemin Forestier (forest road) map from our tourist guide, Patricia, which really assisted in writing about this trip and made all these locations more real in terms of having a point of reference. I found out that Patricia learned her English in Jonquière then at La Tuque, Patricia left and was replaced by Gay for the reminder of the trip to Montreal. We slowly crossed the high bridge over the Riviere du Millieu so everyone could enjoy the view before descending down to Hervey Jonction. The train from Jonquière sat on the mainline in front of us, so our F40PH-2 6415 cut off and pulled beyond the switch then the Saguenay reversed onto our train before the locomotive coupled to it to remain the lead engine.

The reminder of the journey to Montreal was pleasant and relaxing but since this was my third trip over this segment, I now knew where everything is so played six games of Solitaire and won two then passed some of the time talking with a husband who had boarded at Clova with his wife and he told me about fishing there, why the train is a better choice than driving and after he described the road conditions in the area, I would not want to drive there either. They detrained at Ahuntsic so I decided to move my bags to the front of the next car and Gay helped me with that before we discussed Canada's present political situation of provinces, specifically Quebec, wanting separation. She thought that Canada should stay together and I completed agreed as it is one great country that needs to stay a great country. We arrived in Montreal twenty-eight minutes late after one of the most relaxing train rides I ever had and a special thanks to service manager Stephanie Lauzon who made my two days on the Abitibi most enjoyable.

I went inside the station and enjoyed the VIA 1 lounge for a few minutes before going downstairs to my waiting train and was greeted by attendants Allan Farrell and Daniel Bourque. I boarded VIA coach 4005, ex. Arctic Cold Storage 4005 1984, exx. Amtrak 6067 1974-1984, exxx. Amtrak 5213 1971-1974, nee Louisville and Nashville 3250 1947-1971 built by Budd Compay in 1949. VIA converted it into a club-galley with fifty-six LRC first class seats. With all the history to these cars, I felt as though I was making an historical trip. Since my seat was at one of the emergency windows, I was briefed on how to use it and then had to demonstrate how to use it in case there was a real emergency.

As we departed Montreal for Toronto, Allan came by and took my dinner order before returning with his cart with potato chips and drinks, from which of course I chose a 7-UP. At Dorval, a Dorion-bound commuter train came by with Amtrak F40PHR 318 pushing its train, the same locomotive Peter Smith had told me about. We sped into Ontario with the sky turning into a beautiful sunset and Daniel came next, passing out hot towels and when each passenger was done, he collected them and this was my first experience with hot towels, a sign of true class. It was funny how much I remembered about the countryside from my last trip across Canada when I reclaimed this route for my sobriety as far as Brockville.

We made our first Ontario stop at Cornwall as the appetizer was served with everyone else having wine and myself enjoying bottled water. Since I was a very finicky eater, I settled for the dinner rolls then a few minutes later, that was all picked up as the colours of the sky continued to improve. My main course of tenderloin on a bed of noodles, which was very good along, with another dinner roll. I finished my meal with a cup of tea and a chocolate dessert. With the end of a beautiful sunset, we arrived at Prescott after a freight train cleared. Allen took my tray and offerd me a liqueur to which I replied "I do not drink but may I have another tea please?" with one being brought immediately. As we arrived at Brockville, my reclaiming of the route came to an end and I thought of all the places I had been since I was last here, all the people met and everything seen and felt very lucky at this point, with VIA 1 service just adding to it.

The rest of the journey was a sprint through the mostly pitch-black night with the only lights being the occasional ones in a passing town, a true night train experience. We arrived early at Kingston and had to wait for our departure time then next stopped at Cobourg, Oshawa and Guildwood before arriving back into Toronto five minutes early, ending my VIA 1 experience. I took a taxi back to the Executive Motor Inn with a room for two nights in the other building, where the walls shook every time a streetcar rolled by on King Street. I slept very soundly after such a relaxing day of train riding.

I awoke to another rainy day with my luggage staying in my motel room and walked outside, opened my umbrella walked to the streetcar stop with my day bag. A gentleman explained to me that for two dollars and a transfer, I could get back to Toronto Union Station which easily beat the cab fare so I jumped onto the heavily-patronized streetcar telling the motorman where I was going, who in turn pointed me in the correct direction when we arrived and I took the subway one stop back to the station, easy to do. I enjoyed my usual McDonald's breakfast before joining the line for Train 71 to Windsor, my last new route of this trip.

I boarded the all-LRC consist about half an hour before departure time and chose a large south side window seat, watching the procession of GO Transit trains arriving before we departed on time, proceeding out into a very rainy Ontario morning. Looking up, the top of the CN Tower was obscured by the rain and clouds and the parallel freeway was bumper-to-bumper as GO Transit trains flew by towards Toronto Union Station. We made stops at the commuter stations of Oakville and Aldershot, passing through the Toronto suburbs until we reached Bayview Junction and the first of my two new mileage segments for today. From Toronto to Bayview, I had ridden on Amtrak's Maple Leaf and would now be riding Canadian National's Dundas Subdivision to London, which would all be new, except for the portion from London Junction to London, which I had ridden on the International. As such, the next 76.7 miles would be brand new.

Hamilton could be seen through the rain while looking back as we departed Bayview. We left the cityscape behind and made our way out into the southern Ontario countryside of low rolling hills. The rain stopped as we approached Brantford, which not only has a unique station, but was the hometown of the all-time hockey great Wayne Gretzky. It was his playing that made me a hockey fan when he was with the Edmonton Oilers and I was in Heaven when he was traded to the Los Angeles Kings, where I saw him play a few times. He sent a picture to our classroom at McFadden Intermediate, which was put up in our classroom window about people who care for education. When he was traded to the St. Louis Blues in 1995 then the New York Rangers in 1996 to 1999, I still watched him on television when I could and saw him play at the LA Forum both of his years with the Rangers. If it were not for you, Wayne, I would have never taught street hockey at MacArthur Fundamental in Santa Ana and turned all those children onto hockey. Thank you for all the great memories. I always wanted to see his hometown and thanks to VIA, I had!

The train continued its race across the countryside to our next station at Woodstock with its own unique style of station. The low hills were covered with trees and after passing through a very large gravel operation which takes place on both sides of the tracks, we arrived at Ingersoll, where a newer station was being used while the old one was in a state of disrepair. We passed through London Junction, briefly ending my new mileage and returned to familiar tracks in London fourteen minutes late. While I sat there, I looked at my VIA timetable and noticed that it took only two-and-a-half hours to travel over the route that versus three-and-a-half hours over the route the International takes. No wonder VIA uses this route for its corridor trains.

Leaving London, we proceeded southwest just like the International did to Komoka before veering off onto the Chatham Subdivision on what should be my last new mileage of the trip. The landscape was absolutely flat and the sun came out for the rest of the way to Windsor under a beautiful southern Ontario clear sky. Glencoe was nothing more than a shelter with its original station up on blocks being ready to be moved to a new location. We entered VIA-owned tracks from Milepost 63.9 to 99.2 and at Chatham, our next stop, there was a Norfolk Southern freight waiting for us to clear, with the station a nice large brick edifice. Near Tecumseh, Lake St. Clair became visible through a single line of houses and the lakeshore scenes were very peaceful until we reached the industrial landscape near Windsor. We arrived on time next to the Hiram Walker and Sons and Canadian Club distilleries as the train glided to a stop at the station.

Detraining at Windsor, the air reeked of the smell of Walker's Liquor, so much that it was making me sick to my stomach. I never liked the taste of it when I was drinking and now I cannot stand it either.

I bought a postcard and since I wanted a picture of Detroit and my home country across the Detroit River, walked for a good mile passing the entire Walker distillery before I found a waterfront park and climbed down to sit on a rock at the water's edge to enjoy a wonderful view. Thoughts came to my mind of home, but it would be five more days before I was back in the United States again. That could make a good song title; so close but yet so far. I sat enjoying the clean air, sunshine and wrote my postcard then walked back to the Canadian Club gift shop and asked them to mail it. Returning to the station, that odour was really making me sick again, so much so that I asked to be pre-boarded and my request was granted. As I walked onto the train, I thought "Tempt me with all you want Windsor, tempt me with your evil vice, I will not succumb to any or all of your pressure. I am in control, sober and free!" I left Windsor as sober as I arrived. Another victory!

I sat on the left side of the train so I would have a great view of Lake St. Clair then following that, I enjoyed a huge cumulonimbus cloud with its accompanying rain and lightning show. My seatmate was a female teenager who was reading one of the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew mystery books that I read as a child. We were already a full train when we arrived at London so I did not know where all the new passengers were going to be seated, especially as there was a Key Tour Group who had boarded at Windsor taking up a car-and-a-half worth of seats. As we proceeded northeast back into a very dark sky, I wondered just where it would start raining again and by Brantford, it was raining cats and dogs which continued all the way back to Toronto, arriving there during the peak of the afternoon commuter rush. We passed five outbound GO Transit trains between Bayview and Toronto and with the completion of the trip, I had now ridden every mile of VIA's corridor service and every mile of VIA Rail east of Winnipeg. I was very impressed with the way they run their service with their LRC cars and their operations. VIA, I give you my highest praise!

Upon detraining, I went straight to the Ontario Northland Railway's office, which was still open, to get some information for next summer's trip then picked up some Church's Fried Chicken to go before returning to the subway. I learned how to do it on this end, paid the machine, received a transfer from it and took the subway one stop to King Street. It was pouring rain when I emerged on the street and now my umbrella decided to have a major problem and would not open, something that only happens when you need to use it. I waited to board the second of the two streetcars in a two-car consist and was off to just past my motel, where I made a mad dash to the dryness of my room for the night.

Toronto 8/21/1999

The next morning, a Saturday, I repeated my rail trip back to Union Station on the plan that had worked so well yesterday, this time with my luggage on the lightly-used early morning transit service. As I detrained at Union Station, I was thinking "I love it when a plan comes together!" After another McDonald's breakfast, I was third in line and given a seat check for my final Canadian train ride where on this world-renowned train, I would reclaim its route for my sobriety.

Being boarded fifty minutes early did have a few advantages, namely being able to take my luggage to the assigned seat and walking the whole length of the twenty-one car train from the locomotive all the way back to the Park Car. Every car was of Canadian Pacific Railway heritage, so other than the VIA locomotives, it was a historically-accurate version of the fabled Canadian. Now if we could only take its original route!

We departed on time and proceeded out onto Canadian National's Weston Subdivision for only a few minutes before turning onto the Newmarket Subdivision. The last time I had ridden, during my drinking days, on the eastbound trip, we travelled all the way down the Newmarket Subdivision and westbound, departed Toronto on the Bala Subdivision. However, as Canadian National streamlined their system, it abandoned the middle fifty miles of the Newmarket Subdivision so that the Canadian can no longer go to Washago that way. Back to the current routing, we ran up the Newmarket Subdivision for thirteen miles before reversing around a connection onto the York Subdivision. Sitting in the dome of the Skyline car enabled me to see the whole train and we rode the York Subdivisioni for over five miles to Doncaster, where we curved onto the Bala Subdivision to reach Capreol.

The Canadian continued north, escaping the urban landscape of metropolitan Toronto and into the rolling forested countryside where farms have been cut out of the forests. We passed Lake Simcoe to the west while the children in the dome played with their yo-yos. Near Washago, we reached the edge of the great Canadian Shield which we would be crossing for more than twenty-four hours and its rail distance five hours greater than what Amtrak's Sunset Limited covers when crossing Texas. There were the rock outcroppings covered with trees, exposed rock cuts that the train will pass through and lakes in almost every other low spot to be found. Most of the rock formations of the shield range from 500 million to four billion years old.

Everything from Doncaster was a new daylight experience for me as my last westbound trip left Toronto over twelve hours later than this morning's train. At Washago, there was an old coaling tower just before the station and while boarding the new passengers there, it became apparent that VIA had oversold the coach section of the train but I managed to keep my dome seat as VIA used it for additional coach space, but I wondered for how long? We met a Canadian National freight at Washago and then two more at Woodward and Medora, where from there, we ran uninterrupted until our next station stop at Parry Sound. We sped along before we slowed for a meet at Drocourt then made excellent time to the Canadian Pacific Railway crossing, where we were stopped by a red signal where a long Canadian Pacific intermodal train crossed our path.

The dome conversations ranged from sports, mainly baseball and hockey, to computers, politics, Weird Al, horror movies and Jackie Chan. We arrived at Sudbury Junction where a music student that I met detrained to start her final year of college at Sudbury. The landscape had changed to a more rock-faced bluff bare of trees from the acid rain produced by the area nickel plants. After passing another lake, we arrived at Capreol, a servicing stop and here some people made a mad dash to a store half a mile away for cigarettes. In my old days, I would have been making my dash for alcohol but, God willing, those days are over forever. I did have a good laugh at just the thought doing that.

Leaving Capreol, I met Dino, a Canadian National conductor from Hornepayne, and Nick, a railfan going to Edmonton. Dino and I shared our troubles with the bottle with each other in an instant AA meeting and discussed so many interesting topics that one passenger commented "This is better than any talk show on TV!" We talked through the sunset and three hours later, we finished our conversation and I returned to my full coach to no bathrooms, lights out with people talking or playing music through headphones full blast. My seatmate, who was going to Winnipeg, was already out, so being prepared, something that Boy Scouts taught me, I whipped out the ear plugs in an attempt to get some sleep and maybe had five hour's worth during the night.

8/21/1999 Morning came all too quickly with us still in the rocks and trees of the Canadian Shield as we proceeded due west from the morning's sunrise. The morning started with a find the bathroom game and breakfast in the Skyline car of pancakes, sausage and grapefruit juice, all for a very reasonable price. I followed that with a full day of dome riding, starting with the fog rising from the lakes then at Lamaune, we passed the first Canadian National freight of the morning then proceeded to Armstrong where everyone waved to Dad and Betty, the father and a friend of a family who had just boarded the dome car as there was still a lack of coach seats. We then went into the siding at Onaping for Canadian National 166, the very hot Vancouver-to-Toronto intermodal train. I had been seeing trees attempting to change into their autumn colours and learned that they were birch trees, the only ones on the outside of the forest, so I wondered if it was because they were not insulated from the night's cold air as their brethren were, and also learned that the red flowers were Mountain Red Ash berries.

We stopped at Allanwater Bridge where there was a small St. Barnabas Anglican Church; a building need not be big in which to worship God. This dome car that I was riding in did just fine as I thanked him for this trip, all the people I have met, his great planet and my sober life. West of Allanwater Bridge, we passed another fire zone from three years ago then passing through Ghost River, I saw no signs of ghosts, Jacks in the Green, Vampires or Beasties, all of which are references to Jethro Tull songs. The Canadian made its way to the next servicing stop of Sioux Lookout, where I detrained for some well-deserved fresh air.

Upon departure, we passed a couple of impressive lakes as the land took on a more rugged character and the rock cuts that the train passed through became deeper and we passed through our first tunnel at Milepost 41.3. At Morgan, we held the main for another eastbound intermodal train then waited twelve more minutes for a green signal to appear so we could continue west. We ran along another lake and travelled through a pair of tunnels in a Canadian National mini-version of the Canadian Pacific Railway route along Lake Superior. Back in 1991, due to our schedule, I passed through this area eastbound at night and on the westbound journey, I was re-routed via Thunder Bay from Longlac Junction to outside of Winnipeg, so today was my first time seeing this scenery in daylight. I was very impressed with Canadian National route across the Canadian Shield, but could have done without the signal problems that added to our tardiness. Continuing west, the Canadian travelled into a sky full of clouds so I wondered where the rain would begin.

At Etna Lake, the Canadian was stopped dead in its tracks by a rail problem so our entire crew was examining it and the question arose of why the Canadian National freights could go over it but we could not. In all my miles travelled to this point, this was another first. The VIA crew announced that we could be here for at least an hour or more. Good conversations were conducted with my fellow passengers, including a mother and two children who boarded at Sioux Lookout and were refugees in the dome because of the lack of coach seats, who had been told that they would have seats at Winnipeg. An hour and eight minutes later, we crossed the slow order at twenty miles an hour for a mile before passing through the last two tunnels of the day, then we made some additional flag stops and when the Canadian reached Decimal, the rain began and lasted to Nourse.

We left the Canadian Shield and Ontario with everyone happy to be in Manitoba and I was having a pot roast dinner in the Skyline's coffee shop while all this was happening. We ran straight as an arrow towards Winnipeg and another line of storms which was approaching, then stopped at Transcona to depart a few passengers before crossing the Red River and arrived at Winnipeg two hours late. I detrained to buy and mail a postcard as well use a non-moving bathroom then went out into the thunderstorm, complete with brilliant lightning and loud claps of thunder, to mail the card before I called home to my mother, who had kindly picked up the new Jethro Tull Dot Com CD for me and I was anxious to listen to it.

The call over the public address system to reboard and after a thirty minute wait, all the returning and new coach passengers boarded; it took longer than normal because of the pouring rain and when the sleeping car passengers boarded, they did it through one of the vestibules which was under the station cover and the passengers may have had to walk through many cars to reach their rooms. This way, the first class passengers were kept dry. We, the coach passengers, then boarded and that is when the problems began. The crew from Toronto detrained in Winnipeg and a new onboard crew would take the Canadian to Vancouver. The Toronto crew told anybody getting off in Winnipeg just to look around and take their boarding pass (hat check) with them to show when they reboarded. Knowing that my hat check saved my seat, I left mine right where it was above my seat but people who had taken theirs came back onboard to find that their seats had been given away and in some cases, their luggage had been moved with no idea where it had been taken.

The mother and two children had been assigned seats by the Toronto crew, who did not tell the new crew that they had been given seats. The Vancouver crew then assigned their seats to someone else and when they came back onboard to find someone was sitting in their new seats, the fireworks went off. She came back up to the dome one very angry mother and rightfully so; the new attendant tried to calm her down but she told her that she and the children would stay in the dome until they reached Saskatoon, where they were moving to.

We departed two hours and twenty-three minutes late and proceeded west into another wonderful thunderstorm with a reddish sunset in the far western sky and lightning cracks right above the dome put me in the center of the storm. The mother came back and with the help of the storm, I managed to calm her down and in a few minutes, we were laughing about the whole stupid situation. A group of Japanese tourists were minding their own business and speaking in their native tongue when a twelve-year-old girl named Jade from Edson, Alberta, who had been bothering people all day, now turned her attention to them. She demanded they to stop speaking French then started her tirade at the mother and I told her that was not a good idea so she went downstairs to bother people and I told the mother I had an idea and everyone in the dome to just follow my lead.

Sure enough, she came right back up to me and said "Tell them to stop speaking French!" I responded with "Auk, auk auk!" and every time she talked to me, I used hand gestures to "Auk, auk, auk!" "Auk, auk!" She looked at the mother who entered into the spirit of things with "Auk, auk, auk!" and the two of us carried on a conversation in the language of "Auk!" She turned to the first two Japanese students who responded with "Auk, auk!" and we returned with "Auk, Auk!" Now to everyone in the dome that she tried to talk to they responded with "Auk!" and kept saying that she could not understand any word that was being said and was greeted with a chorus of "Auk!" She finally stormed off and everyone thanked me and said that was some of the most fun that they had ever had. It could only happen on a train.

I spent most of the evening chatting with the mother and watching the green-over-red signals reflect off the stainless steel roof of the train, which would turn red once the locomotive had passed the signals. We talked about where we both lived and the differences between the two locations. We said our goodnights before she went back to the rear of the dome to get some sleep before they arrived late in the night at Saskatoon. I was then joined by two female students going to Vancouver and they had all sort of questions such as "How does the engineer run the train?" "What do the signals mean?" and "Who controls them?", and I was able to answer all of their questions. We went into a siding to meet a freight train and I explained the steps it took to make that happen and what it takes to get us back onto the mainline and up to speed. They thanked me and told me that they both hoped to see me tomorrow, which was an honour. I asked Nick to wake me if he saw the Northern Lights then went back to my coach and fell fast asleep.

8/22/1999 I awoke in western Saskatchewan just before a beautiful prairie sunrise and had a pancake and sausage breakfast, during which we crossed into Alberta.

Six miles west of Wainwright, we crossed over a high bridge then continued our journey to Viking, where we held the main for our second track inspection truck of the day. When late and out of the operating window, the railway continues on. We crossed the Saskatchewan River and off to the south, the skyline of Edmonton could be seen and I spotted the Coliseum where Wayne Gretzky used to play for the Edmonton Oilers. We reversed into the new VIA station and I stepped off the Canadian in Edmonton for the first time.

The new station was just south of Calder Yard and a few miles from downtown and interestingly, I had a short new little piece of mileage on the Canadian that I had not expected. This station eliminated the long reverse move required to reach the downtown station. The train was refuelled, watered and cleaned during our layover; the watering was done by employees on roller blades and it was interesting to watch them perform their jobs. The weather was shorts weather with a nice breeze blowing and I used my time to explore the station, after which we departed an hour and thirty-two minutes late. West of Edmonton at a grade crossing, Allision's father, brother and grandfather held up a sign that read "Goodbye Allison" for her and her mother, also named Allison. Everyone in the dome car waved and I hoped they had better luck than the family from Sioux Lookout.

The Canadian had already entered the rolling hills and forest, except where cleared by man for his farming pursuits. Near Wabamun, we paralleled along the north shore of Wabuman Lake then at Gainford, I saw the Yellowhead Highway for the first time since Edmonton. West of Leaman, across a field, I saw the Canadian Rockies for the first time since I was a child, then at Hinton, we went into the siding for a freight train, where there was another good view of the Rockies. I was paid a visit from the children from Jasper and they had a lot of fun on that farm at Brandon North and could not believe all the places I had been since they last saw me on the Chaleur; it was difficult for me to believe as well. At Edson, as Jade was getting off, I said goodbye to her and threw in a couple "Auk, auks!"

We had an extended stop at Hinton with a full view of the Rockies to the west and from there, the scenery was breath-taking as the Canadian entered Jasper National Park. I was seated in the rear seat of the dome, knowing that as we would be running straight into the sun, the best pictures would be from the rear dome windows.

That was the reason that I had been riding here since breakfast. A couple from Victorville, California, switched sides with me allowing me a better photo angle. You can not go wrong with a fantastic train and incredible landscapes; it does not get any better than this! We arrived in Jasper and were told the stop would be for thirty-five minutes.

Canadian National Railway 4-8-2 6015, ex. Canadian Railroad Historical Association Delson, Quebec 1960, nee Canadian National 6015 built by Canadian Locomotive Company in 1923. It is the only steam engine of its class preserved. I then bought the usual postcard and a roll of film just in case, mailed the card and bought a sandwich to go.

Our train and the rear of the American Orient Express as it passed; I have dreamed of riding that train someday. Since we were going to be here for more than thirty-five minutes, I ran across the street for an ice cream before reboarding the dome and watched VIA wash the windows; the company certainly takes pride in their operation. We departed Jasper an hour and eighteen minutes late.

Climbing Red Pass, we passed the eastbound Rocky Mountaineer, another train I would like to ride, but to Calgary, followed closely by the Skeena, which runs from Prince Rupert and Prince George, a route that I could not work in on this trip, but most certainly will on my next visit to Canada in December. We passed Moose Lake with its unique greenish colour when one looks at it sideways from the train then at Red Pass, we took the original line as the Skeena route takes off from the Canadian National mainline. I returned to my seat and read the history of British Columbia in "Last Train to Toronto" before chatting with the couples from Victorville and New Zealand. The peaks with their glaciers still shone in the very late day's sunlight and after sunset, VIA slowed the train to walking speed so all aboard could see Pyramid Falls, which was very beautiful in the low light of twilight. My eighty-two-year-old seatmate found a seat somewhere else in the car, which worked well for me and I went to sleep for the final night on the Canadian.

8/23/1999 I awoke to the moon over the Thompson River and once again, when we reached the Fraser River Canyon, I was up for good and started my last day in Canada with my usual breakfast in the west end of the canyon then walked back to the coach, thinking that it had been so much more interesting in the coaches with the real people of Canada than being hidden away in the sleepers. The short hauls with their stories to tell, people coming or going to school, the families coming and going, people who boarded in the middle of nowhere and the low-budget tourist, such as me, out to see a great Canada. It was a clear morning and I was hoping there would be no rain.

At Matsqui Junction, we left the Canadian National and crossed the Fraser River onto Canadian Pacific's Cascade Subdivision and for a few miles, I rode the original route of the Canadian Pacific in a set of all-Canadian Pacific cars. It does not get any better than that. Being sober and having my Canadian Trackside Guide had been a real boon to taking this journey throughout Canada. The great views on this Canadian Pacicic route were the Fraser River to the south and the Coast Mountains to the north and we were travelling the same route as the West Coast Express commuter trains as far as MacAulay and passed through several of their stations. At Pitt River, the Canadian crossed a drawbridge with log bundles tied together, a common occurence in the northwest, then ran along the south side of Canadian Pacific's Port Coquitlam yard and passed another Rocky Mountaineer train, the long version before it split at Kamloops for Jasper and Calgary. It reminded of the model of a Canadian Pacific E9A which had been sitting in front of me for the last three days and it was too bad that VIA never had any of them on their roster.

We switched off the Canadian Pacific main at MacAulay then went down Canadian Pacific's Westminster Subdivision to Sapperton, where we took BNSF's New Westminster Subdivision to Vancouver Junction, wyed the train and reversed into Pacific Central Station five minutes early. The Canadian crew west of Winnipeg did a much finer job with the train and service, with the exception of the family going to Saskatoon. The toilets had all been working and the whole train was a happy train. What a trip it had been with the variety of scenery and all the great people I met! The best part, however, was that I was sober and living through it all.

After checking my bags in for the day with VIA, I walked to Science World to buy tickets to two different IMAX films, "Wolves" and "Greatest Places", and I learned something new watching both of them. I then took Skytrain to Granville Street Station and had lunch at White Spot then rode Skytrain to Waterfront and the Seabus round trip to Lonsdale in North Vancouver before riding the Skytrain out to King George and back to the Main Street-Science World stop. I visited the Rocky Mountaineer office before retrieving my bags, filling out a Customs form and proceeded through pre-Customs to my first coach ride on the new Amtrak Cascades to Seattle.

Everyone was boarded everyone so I bought a hot dog and had a rest of forty minutes before our on-time departure, after which I bought an Amtrak Cascade Service T-shirt. This was the third time I had been on this route and after a short introductory video about the Talgo, the car's video monitors showed our Seattle arrival time, current temperature, our next station and a map that displayed our exact location, features that the older Talgos did not have. These new sets also have a baggage car. Different seat styles, attractive interior colours, improved bathrooms and the State of Washington has a winner on its hands.

It was back over the same route as the Canadian as far as Sapperton, before we paused at New Westminster and crossed the Fraser River after a tug pulling a barge passed and we waited for the draw span to close. Listening to "Night Ranger" made for a quick trip to White Rock and the United States border where we passed the Peace Arch and I was back in the USA, the land I love! At Blaine, the Custom agents boarded for their ride down to Bellingham and I had the quickest inspection of anyone in my coach.

We arrived at Bellingham and the film for the trip, "Lost and Found", was then shown on the video monitor. I enjoyed it, with the occasional look out of the window at the sunset and Puget Sound then listened to Emerson, Lake and Palmer for the rest of the journey to Seattle. We had been slowly making up time on the Global Positioning Satellite Relay System but our improved running became all for naught when we were stopped at the Ballard Locks on the north side of Seattle as water traffic always has the right-of-way. We finally arrived in Seattle twenty-five minutes late and I enjoyed the new Talgo very much and it was a fine train well-suited for the route it serves.

My arrival was followed by a quick taxi cab ride to the Vagabond Inn and a shower, where I wished that it could have been a Quebec waterfall shower. I hit that nice flat bed and was out like a light for a solid eight hours.

8/24/1999 Waking up to a clear and extremely breezy morning, I had a couple of complimentary doughnuts then played the taxi cab waiting game for thirty minutes before one arrived and took me back to the Amtrak station via Alaskan Way and the new Safeco Field, where the Seattle Mariners now play. I arrived at King Street Station in the midst of renovation, something it had needed for years, and with the new Sounder commuter train service soon to start, they were going full steam ahead. I started the line for the Coast Starlight and now waited for what I thought would be my final long distance train of this part of the trip.

The train was late in arriving and it turned out that a coupler on one of the sleeping cars would not lock and the crew decided to put it on the rear, inconvenient for those passengers using the Pacific Parlour Car, but at least they had the rooms they had paid for. For me, this journey was one to sit back, eat and sleep my way to Los Angeles. We departed just five minutes late and I ate a lounge car lunch around Auburn with no sign of Mount Rainier. Leaving Tacoma, Puget Sound was beautiful and upon leaving its waters, I napped all the way down to Vancouver then crossed the Columbia River, entered Oregon and arrived at Portland Union Station on an eighty-four degree day.

As we proceeded down the Willamette Valley, I continued reading "Last Train to Toronto" and while acquiring my dinner reservation, the northbound Starlight passed and by Eugene, I was sitting in the dining car having beef tenderloin and a Turtle ice cream cake for dessert. I chose to skip the film as I had seen it before and finished my book, which had even more meaning after visiting some of the places mentioned. For the first time since Seattle, the end door of our coach closed and with the silence, I stretched across both seats and slept the night away.

8/25/1999 In the morning, I awoke to find the train was running close to its schedule outside Roseville and I went to the lounge car for a cup of tea from Cory, the Lead Service Attendant, whom I knew from the San Diegans, before sitting down for breakfast in the dining car. Just as I sat down, the train stopped and while I at,e three eastbound freight trains went by then I returned to my seat and listened to some music as another eastbound freight train passed and I watched a tractor in a junkyard go on about its chores. Finally, after two-and-a-half hours, it was announced that a freight train was having problems and we would sit here as Union Pacific owns the track. The usual chorus of "If a freight train can get by, why can not us?" was heard throughout the train. As we sat, I looked at the timetable and found that I could take the third San Joaquin, Train 714, down the valley and with the Thruway bus to the San Diegan connection, I could be home by 8:00 PM instead of who knows when and avoid being bussed around the Los Angeles Basin in the middle of the night. I found the conductor, who thought that it was a very good idea, so when the Starlight finally resumed its journey, I packed and detrained at Sacramento, wondering what time the Starlight would reach Los Angeles

Once in the depot, I learned that my brother Bruce was out of the office so I called the North American Pass desk and it took twenty-five minutes on hold just to get the agent to arrange my bus/train/bus connection to Los Angeles. She asked me where I had been in Canada and was amazed by all the places to which I had travelled and remarked that she never hears how passengers' trips have turned out. I thanked her and then went to the ticket counter to get my new tickets then met Bruce and after an all-too-short visit, boarded the Thruway Bus to Stockton for the trip through a smoky, hazy and cloudy south Sacramento Valley. It turned out there had been a wildfire caused by lightning strikes in the Sierra Nevada foothills that was causing all the smoke. Shades of Canada.

While waiting on the platform in Stockton, I learned that my train would be at least thirty minutes late since they were delayed on both the Union Pacific to Port Chicago and the BNSF to here. When the train finally arrived, I boarded and bought a hot dog and a large piece of chocolate cake then we stopped at Denair waiting for a northbound sister train and a westbound freight before we reversed onto the main, then pulled forward to do our short station work. From Denair to Fresno, we were delayed by four more westbound freight trains and I believed my chances of connecting with San Diegan 784 were futile, but we sped along as a very late-running train as far as Angolia, where we met San Joaquin 717. It was extremely humid outside and we passed through sprinkles and by Interstate 5, there looked to be a good dust storm swirling. With no more delays, we arrived at Bakersfield an hour and nineteen minutes late, all caused by freight train interference. I detrained and made a beeline to the San Diegan bus, with everyone else following and chose the front seat and listened to Rush on my headphones.

The bus driver did an excellent job of driving up and over the Grapevine and we arrived in Los Angeles twenty minutes after San Diegan Train 784 had left. Train 4, the Southwest Chief, had not even arrived for people to board, so when it did, I made my way with the crowd to the platform and after telling my dilemma to the conductor, he let me ride to Fullerton. A lady on the train had a cell phone and let me call home and I paid her three dollars for the use of it. My father met me at Fullerton, thus ending the major part of my first North American Rail Pass on probably the worst train riding day of my life. If I did not like the train so much, I might have been echoing those voices in Chicago who said "I will never ride Amtrak again!" Yet in three days, I would be off for Oklahoma on the train and I was already planning my next trip to Canada.

RETURN TO THE MAIN PAGE