Grand Rapids to Denver

I’m planning to take the train from Grand Rapids to Denver this summer.  That’s way outside my comfort zone. I’ve taken the train before but never alone.

When I was a kid my sister, Sharron, and I took one from Royal Oak to Detroit with Mom on several Friday afternoons.  Grandma Barner picked us up at the train station and we went to her house for dinner. Mom didn’t know how to drive yet.  Grandma did.  Dad and Grandpa Barner met us there when they finished work. Fridays were “no meat” so we ate fried fish and cornbread for dinner.

The combination of those Friday afternoon trips on the train, and Roger Miller’s recording of “King of the Road” in 1964, had me consider a summer of train jumping.  The life of a train jumping hobo sounded like a cool way to spend the summer of 1965 before I headed off to college. Upon further review, I decided the actual practice of jumping trains was much too dangerous, so I chickened out.

When our three kids were about eight, nine and eleven, Ruth and I took them on the train from Detroit to Toronto.  It was Christmas break and a grand adventure.  I’d read that the Toronto train station was only three blocks from the hotel we booked, so walking that distance didn’t seem like a big deal.  It was.

The trip was way before the internet and things like MapQuest.  You had to do the research yourself.  Most of mine was word of mouth.  One of my teachers had taken the train to Toronto with her husband and two children the prior summer.  I was encouraged when she said, “We had a wonderful time.   We walked to our hotel.  It was great!”

The Tebo walk was more of a challenge.  We had three kids, multiple suitcases, and it was five degrees Fahrenheit.  Three city blocks seemed like three miles.  The wind howled and so did the kids.  It was dark and the three blocks we traveled were deserted.  We made it but took a taxicab when we went to dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory.  We were able to walk to The Eaton Center where Ruth and the kids took advantage of the Boxing Day sales. That meant heavier suitcases on our return trip.

Ruth and I took Brady on the train to Chicago for his twelfth birthday to see the Chicago Cubs play.  We’d driven to several other ballparks to celebrate birthdays, but this was our one and only train trip.  Our seats were two rows from the car where the lounge attendant was preparing snacks.  We ate cookies and drank hot chocolate.  Brady followed the attendant back to his car to help him prepare and deliver snacks.  Although not requested, Brady was rewarded with free food and drink as payment for his service.

We walked from Union Station to our hotel.  That worked out fine.  We also walked to a little pub and ate Poutine for the first time. Poutine is the blending of french-fried potatoes, beef gravy, and fresh cheese curds. The chef at this pub added dried cherries.  Ruth fell in love at first bite and was a fan of poutine from that moment on.  She ordered it whenever she had the opportunity, but if I’m totally honest, the first dish was the best.  The cherries took it over the top.

That trip was the first time we took an Uber.  We rode to Comiskey Park, and when our driver learned Ruth was enamored by the local architecture, he took an alternative route so she could visually explore.  It was a great ride, narrated by our Uber tour guide.

I’ve explored train options for my trip from Grand Rapids to Denver.  There’s one.  I’ll be joining some of our Florida neighbors for a few days.  We’d discussed a potential trip last summer, but it never developed.  Last summer, Ruth and I would have taken a northern route, driven through Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, and visited Mount Rushmore on our way.

As long as I’m alone, I’ve opted to take the train.  The most cost-effective way is to simply purchase a seat.  You can travel in either coach or business class.  Business class offers a couple of perks, so I’ll ride that way on the four-hour trip from Grand Rapids to Chicago.  I’ll change trains there and report to the Union Station lounge for my five hour lay-over.   I’m purchasing a roomette for the eighteen-hour trip from Chicago to Denver.  I’ll be on the California Zepher.  If I took it to the end, I’d end up in San Fransisco.

I’ve flown into Denver before, but never explored anything beyond the airport.  I’ll see the flat side of the country on my trip.  If I continued onward, I’d ride through the Rocky Mountains.  Perhaps another time.