Tuesday, March 2
The next thing I was aware of was the muffled whine of the brakes. There was light outside, which I could see around the edges of the curtain. I peeked out and saw we were in Sacramento. It was 7:02am. I had slept very well.
From my bed, I took a couple of photos. After awhile an Amtrak California train pulled onto the opposite track and obscured the view. Or rather, offered a new view.
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In Sacramento a man walks past my window |
A few minutes later, my view changes |
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Crossing a very flooded floodplain |
Now I was a little concerned about the timing of breakfast. I planned to meet some people on the platform at two upcoming stops. One, another fellow named Jim, who I know through the old AOL Passenger Rail message board. Jim is on the board of the National Association of Railroad Passengers, and we talked on the phone earlier in the year when he suggested I might make a suitable candidate for a board vacancy. I didn't feel I could make the commitment now, but I left the door open for the future. Anyway, I had arranged to meet Jim at Martinez for a fact to face meeting. I didn't want to be at the breakfast table and have to leave food to get cold. |
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Passing an oil refinery just north of Martinez |
I asked our attendant in the Parlour Car if he thought there was time
for breakfast before Martinez, and he thought so. So we sat down and ordered.
Pancakes for me this time. These were among the better ones Amtrak has served.
We were seated with a sweet elderly gentleman named Darrel who hadn't been
on a train since about WWII. He was going to San Diego, and he seemed to
be enjoying the experience overall, save for some moderate difficulty maintaining
his balance when walking about the moving train. |
Social calls
I had barely finished my pancakes just as we stopped at Martinez. I left Heidi at the table and hastened to the sleeping cars. I thought I might get off at the first one, but I noticed the attendant was upstairs, not manning the door, so clearly this car was not open. When I got to our car, I discovered our door was also shut, and Terry was nowhere near. So I opened the window.
A man had his back turned towards me, looking at the other sleeping car. I called and asked “Are you Jim?” He was. We made some small talk, and then Terry came down the stairs scolding me for opening the window. “You'll have to go to an open car” he said. When I explained I was speaking with this gentleman outside, he recognized Jim immediately and said, “OK, you can only open the window for him.” Jim rides this train so frequently that all the crews know him by name.
Soon the whistle blew twice, and that was my signal to close the window. It was 8:45. I said goodbye to Jim and we began moving towards Emeryville, where I would finally get to see Doras.
The Carquinez straignt offers a look at industries, old and new, along
the waterfront.
This looks perhaps like some old fishermen's shacks.
Next we pass the C&H Sugar plant, here framed by a tank car.
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The Carquinez bridges as seen from the train. A modern concrete suspension bridge, seen on the left, recently replaced the narrowest of the three bridges in the center. |
Last Christmas, we drove to Medford, Oregon, and got caught in a traffic jam on these bridges. Bay area traffic was so bad it added over two hours to our trip. I wish we could have taken the train then! |
Later we pass a modern shipping terminal
Our progress towards Emeryville was painfully slow. We passed Richmond at 9:20, only to come to a dead stop soon after, a situation we remained in for some time. We heard on the scanner, and over the intercom, that freight traffic was delaying us. And train #6, the eastbound California Zephyr was still at the station. Fortunately, we had a nice view of San Francisco from our window to keep us occupied.
The San Francisco skyline view, unusually unimpeded by fog
Meanwhile, I thought I would find Terry to see if he was planning to open the doors at Emeryville. But he had disappeared without a trace, and didn't reappear until we got to Oakland. I inquired in the next car with Rose, who was in charge over there, and she said she would open her door. At least we had a confirmed way out.
Finally we heard an inquiry on the radio as to whether our crew wanted to wait for #6 to clear the main platform, or if they wanted to use the shorter commuter platform. “Let's get this over with and take the commuter platform.” came the reply. With that, we finally began moving again at 9:52.
However,
this choice required that they “double spot” the train. In layman's
terms this means to stop it twice, once for the sleepers, and once for the
coaches, as the commuter platform was too short to serve both simultaneously.
We immediately made our way to car 1130 (named Arkansas). We were at the
end of a long line of people waiting to get off. When we did, I saw Doras
was there waiting in her Amtrak cap, looking for us. I called to her, and
she yelled “JIM!”
She handed me an envelope and we had a few brief words. We told her about
our breakfast with Walter and Milly on the way north. I then asked Rose to
take a picture of the three of us together, and that was the extent of of
our time with Doras. It was less than three minutes before we had to re-board
and let the coach passengers have their turn.
Homeward
Our next stop was Oakland, a designated smoking stop. Too bad Doras didn't live here, because we could have had a nice long chat.
Meanwhile I found Doras had given us several 2 for 1 Amtrak coupons, which were good until mid June. We saved one for ourselves, and later gave others away to friends and relatives.
At Oakland they added a car at the rear, and after re-boarding I went back to the last coach to see. It was an old vista dome, being “deadheaded” to San Jose where it would be removed. While there I heard a detector report:
10:45am “UP Detector, Milepost 12.4, track 1. No defects, total axles 52, train speed 60MPH. Detector Out.”
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Oakland |
Transporting a dome car to San Jose |
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San Jose |
After San Jose we thought we'd get a little bite to eat. Splitting a sandwich from the cafe sounded like just the thing. Unlike a meal from the dining car, we had to pay extra for it, but it was no big deal. Carrying it back to the room, however, was a challenge. The track between San Jose and Salinas is quite rough in places. As I walked from the lounge into the diner, with food in one hand, I was thrown against the wall, which made my left shoulder a little sore for a few minutes. If I had been three feet farther into the car, I would probably have fallen onto a table. |
I stopped in the Parlour Car for a couple of complimentary sodas before presenting our snack to Heidi in our room. We nibbled our way past Gilroy and rolled into the verdant Pajaro valley to re-enter Monterey County.
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South of Gilroy, verdant vistas mark our approach to Monterey County. |
The UP freight yard at Watsonville |
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Our home station, Salinas California
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Terry outside car 1131
We got off in Salinas at 1:14pm, just under 90 minutes late. Todd arrived within minutes with his mini-bus. After dropping two ladies off at the Monterey airport, where they would retrieve a rental car, Todd took us directly home, saving us another bus ride from the Transit Plaza. For that he earned a little extra something. |
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One last look at #11 through the breezeway.
We stepped in our front door where our cat, Squeaky Toy, looked at us and scoldingly meowed “Its about time you got home.” |
In Conclusion
Out test of ride quality comparing upper and lower level rooms had a surprising result. The difference in ride quality was negligible. I expected significantly more sway upstairs, and a bit more wheel noise downstairs, but that turned out not to be the case.
Still, each level has its advantages and disadvantages, which we were already aware of. The main advantage of being upstairs is the view, which is quite superior. Downstairs, however, is more private since there is minimal foot traffic outside your door, and there are fewer people noises at night. Its also kind of nice to have easy access to the vestibule. It allows you to see out the other side without having to walk too far. It also makes it easy to step off for a little fresh air at station stops. The lower level has one distinct disadvantage, however. At stations stops, people can see into your room at station platforms. One must remember to close the curtains before going to sleep!
In conclusion, we have came away with no distinct preference. It is hard to say which level is better. I guess from now on we'll take the luck of the draw.
