SAC to CHI Train #6 (Part 2) 4 May
Settled aboard, and a table issue sorted with the assistance of SCA D, I decided Id have another go of the mussels.
The dining car was right next door, so it was a very short run compared to my last days on the Texas Eagle.
I found myself seated with two other solos: Justin from the Bay Area, and Andrei, originally from Russia, but on his way to a new job in Reno after working for a few years at You Tube in the Bay Area.
We entered Colfax during our meal, then reversed out of Colfax, before returning again. Colfax - the town so good you enter it twice.
I didnt have my ears in, so I couldnt benefit from the comms which would explain things, but I let them get on with it anyway.
Justin was on his way to meet up with family members in New York.
Both he and Andrei were new to Amtrak dining procedures, so - old hand that I am - I guided them through the process. And I recommended the mussels and the raspberry tart.
Andrei went for the mussles, Justin for the tart, so I thought my job was complete.
We clinked our drinks in Russian (nastrovy) from memory, and Gaelic (slainte), in honour of our tables multicultural background.
Justin and I shared an interest in politics, and properly funding public services like trains, so we did well. We pulled Andreis leg about his electoral interference, and he went along with things, taking out his mobile and pretending to call Mr Putin.
Andrei had a PhD in mathematics. He was on his way to start an academic job in a Uni in Reno. So he was a bright fellow, and it would have been good to broaden my maths skills were he to have been on board for longer.
After a short restorative period back in roomette 6, I headed to the SSC for the view of the climb up the Donner Pass.
I asked a woman sitting in one of the notorious bank of six seats in 1-2-2-1 layout whether one of those in the nearby double was free, and she said yes, but her travelling partner would be back shortly.
So for the first section of the ascent I gazed out at the wonderful scenery before me. Im not that keen on viewing life through a small screen, so I didnt look at much it other than through my wide-angle eyes.
After a while, the womans companion arrived, and as the adjacent double-seater was vacant, I moved across.
There was a passenger in the single so I asked if those seats were taken and he replied they were free.
From that short exchange it was clear he was an Aussie, so I asked about what brought him here.
I generally dont seek out the company of other Aussies on my travels, and my accent is mixed-up enough not to be easily pinged as one myself, so its not that hard to go incognito if I feel like it. After all, Im surrounded by 25 million of them at home, so I feel little need to seek them out abroad
I was well rewarded by blowing my cover. His name was Andrew. He now lives in Truckee, and he was returning home after a few days away at a conference in New Orleans. He is in the new media IT industry and can do his work remotely from Truckee, where he and his partner are bringing up their two young kids - one Aussie-born, the other in the USA.
He said its an ideal place to bring up his kids and it was obvious why.
He was originally from sheep country in western Victoria, not far from where I currently live. So its easy to see why his natural preference is for the country, rather than the city.
Although much of western Victorias flock is merino, for its fine wool, his familys farm was for the coarser and harder-wearing wool used in carpets, and for fat lambs: meat production.
He was returning from the airport on the train rather than driving as he usually did, and was very taken by it, even although he was tired. He was an excellent guide to what we were seeing, and so I pulled out my speed and altitude app, and the transitdocs site to help him orient himself. The transitdocs site also let him know how timekeeping was going, so he was able to call his partner and update her as to his likely arrival time.
We rode through tunnels, around tight curves, and well above the Highway 80 alignment for much of the ride.
He asked about the sleepers, so I described them and their various categories, and explained their layouts. He thought it would be a good family experience to go on an overnight train, and I think I bigged it up enough for him to convince him that itd be an excellent thing to do.
As we dropped into Truckee, we made our farewells, and he gave me his business card to keep in touch.
I then got into converstation with the occupants of the other side of the six. It was a couple, Ken and Carol. They were from Harrisburg, not far from where Id started my journey in Philadelphia.
They were making a long-desired trip now Ken had retired from his job. They started it by train from Harrisburg eventually to the Empire Builder west, then the south-bound Coastal Starlight, and now east on the California Zephyr.
He and Carol were entranced by what they were seeing, and proud they lived in a country with such landscape. So they should be, and long should it remain so.
We were soon in Reno, and then - in the blink of an eye - we were in the desert.
What had been mountains covered in tall conifers, with deep valleys, and patches of remaining snow, was now sand, dotted with short bunches of grass and bubbles of scrub. Not much looked higher than waist level, mostly it was knee height or lower. The farther east I went, the shorter it got.
A few kilometres back, it was country which - back in the day - would have taken days on foot to make progress of a few kilometres. You would have little idea which would be the best path because of the denseness of the forest, and steepness of the terrain. Now you could have travelled at trotting pace astride a horse with the whole landscape laid out before you, and navigation easy as a result.
And if I had to be a railway labourer in the 1860s, I think Id rather be assigned here than farther west.
Highway 80 was out my left-side window, and Fed Ex now did its best to make me feel at home, with several three-trailer trucks heading in the other direction, bringing to mind the road-trains which ply the desert runs across to Perth and up to Darwin in Oz.
Fellow road-users here have the benefit of a four-lane, dual-carriageway highway for ease of passing or overtaking. Overtaking one (or even having one pass by in the opposite direction) is a fraught matter on the single-carriageway undivided two-lane Stuart Highway or over the Nullabor in Oz.
I had a spot of R&R in my cabin, enjoying the passing scenery, and wondering when Id next get a nibble from my connectivity supplier. I gave it away after a while and conventrated on making some sense of my photos.
Around 1930h, I thought Id catch the last hour of the evening meal service. The car was full, and I was directed to the Lounge to await a call. I sat at a table at which another bloke was already sitting at and introduced myself. He said he was Mike.
Mile too was awaiting a table. We got to talking, and once he discovered I was a foreigner, asked me what an outsider made of the current USA political environment.
As a guest in anyones country, I never initiate such a discussion, or give a gratuitous assessment about how that country is run, or should be run. But I am always interested in having an open and invited discussion on just about anything. So Mike and I got to talking.
I havent yet had someone offer themselves as an out-and-out supporter of the current administration. Mike was from California and had an engineering background. The engineers Ive met are calm analysts, driven by facts over emotion, and I prefer to operate that way as well. So our conversation was quite wide-ranging, and of mutual interest, so we agreed that when called, wed go in as a pair to be sure wed be seated together to continue solving the worlds problems.
Mike was on his way to Salt Lake City. He wanted a break, and he wanted to hear a choir singing, but couldnt remember which choir it was. I asked if he was referring to The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and he said he thought that was the one he was hoping to hear.
When we were called, things had quietened down. There were plenty of tables and we were seated together without asking. After a while, we were joined by Nora.
I have a friend in Melbourne who was Chilean-born, so a native Spanish speaker, but who is also deaf. The manner of Noras speaking reminded me of my Melbourne friend. Nora didnt make any specific reference to it, nor asked us to make any special considerations, but she had the facial animation and hand gestures of my friend, which I know is a feature of those who are hearing-impaired and who sign.
She moved her head to get as much a front-on view of our faces when we were speaking which I know can be unsettling if you dont know why. I figured she was supplementing her hearing by trying to lipread.
I know lip reading someone speaking with a different accent can be difficult. I met a profoundly deaf woman at an event I was at in Melbourne and just by lipreading she was able to work out I was not speaking with a traditional Aussie accent.
Nora was also going to Salt Lake City. She joined in the conversation when she worked out we were discussing international and political history. It was wideranging and direct, as we Aussies like it. There was no skirting around the issues, as Mike mentioned hed like to hear my view of how I think the USA is thought of in internationally. Mike was also interested to provide his take as a USA citizen about what he thinks the USAs attitude to the ROTW is and why.
It was a rancour-free and open discussion, one which we both enjoyed. As neither of us felt personally affronted by unvarnished accounts, we kept at it until the Dining Car crew eventually threw us out. Mike was a coach traveller, so I ordered a raspberry tart and two forks, and we repaired to the Lounge Car to knock it off.
Before we knew it, it was 2130h and time to call it a day. It was also early afternoon in Oz, and I wanted to find out if I had connectivity and check in with Niki.
Not until we neared Elco was this possible, so in the meantime I asked SCA D to assist me make the bed, and ventured into the shower.
This shower was in the best condition of all the Amtrak showers Id been in. There were only a few towels in the space, just enough for the next couple of users rather than a store-room of them, the seat was clear, the powerpoint was visible (until then, I didnt know there was a powerpoint in the shower), and the place was very tidy.
When I emerged, I saw D in the lower level and I mentioned that he kept the cleanest most useable shower of all Id seen. He thanked me for commenting, and appreciated that Id noticed he kept it well.
It was time to call it a day.
