The California Zephyr

I took the train to Denver on Saturday, August 5th.  I had planned to start in Grand Rapids, but upon further review, boarded in Holland.  Long term parking near the Grand Rapids depot is in short supply.  Holland has ample free parking, but I didn’t use it as my son, David, dropped me off.

My college friend, Gary, rode the train as well.  He started in GR and I joined him at his first stop.  The first leg of our trip was uneventful.  We did meet a couple who was traveling from Holland to Chicago to see a two o’clock performance of MJ The Musical.  They planned to make the return trip at 6:00 pm.  It sounded like a solid plan to me. Take the train to Chicago, catch a play, and hold hands and talk about the musical on the return trip.  It was a nice way to spend the day with someone you love.

Once we landed in Chicago, we had five rain filled hours to kill.  We started by asking for directions to the Metropolitan Lounge.  We were second in line to a lady in her mid-forties.  She was asking how to make her train connection to Indianapolis.  I don’t know where she boarded the first leg of her trip, but she was heading to Indiana.  I’m not sure if she purchased a one-way ticket or a round trip.  In any case, the man offering directions told her, “If you’re on your way to Indianapolis, you’re taking the bus.  You catch that across the street.”

She protested, “No, I bought a train ticket to Indianapolis.”

“You may have thought you were traveling on a train to Indianapolis, but there are no trains going that way.  The final leg of your trip is by bus.”

He didn’t say it, but I thought it, “You should have read the fine print”.  I considered taking the train from Denver to San Diego, but the fine print for that trip indicated the last leg would be done via bus from Bakersfield.  It would have been a six-hour bus ride, so I opted to fly.  She had a four-hour bus ride to Indianapolis, so I hope for her sake, she bought a one-way ticket.

Before boarding the Denver bound California Zephyr, we stored our bags in the lounge and looked for a cup of coffee and a donut.  We found a Dunkin Donuts.  After ordering a small coffee and a muffin, the long eye-lashed lady who used to play linebacker for the Bears, turned the login screen my way so I could answer a question after scanning my credit card.  It was multiple choice.  Did I want to add a 25%, 35%, or 45% tip, or choose a “custom” amount?  I chose custom.

Gary paid in cash.  Our long eye-lashed linebacker chose for him.  She shorted him $1.00.  It wasn’t the amount; it was the way she fleeced him.  He knew she could kick his butt if he asked about the $1.00.  Welcome to Chicago.

The call to board the train was very specific.  The conductor announced, “Everybody follow me.  I’ll tell you how to board.”  I had a paper copy of my ticket while Gary’s was on his tablet.  I showed the conductor mine and said, “He’s with me.”  The conductor wrote the numbers 54 and 55 on a small slip of paper and pointed to some people boarding the train.  “Follow them up the stairs to your right.”  So, we did.

We found our seats in what appeared to be “coach”.  Gary and I had booked our own roomettes. Coach was not a roomette, so after we settled into our seats the conductor asked to see our tickets.  That’s when I said, “We have Roomettes, when do we move to them.”

“Roomettes?”

“Yes, sir.  I showed you the ticket.”

And then he said, “Your sleeping car is six cars forward.”

“So, how do we get there.”

“You have two choices.  Take your bags, go back down the stairs, and get off at our first stop in Naperville, walk forward on the platform towards the front of the train and reboard.   Or you can make your way through the train cars to yours.  You’ll go through two coaches, the observation car, dining car, and two sleepers.  You’re in the forward sleeper.”  He counted the cars on his fingers as he offered his explanation.  I decided we’d get off, walk down, and reboard.

About a minute later a train attendant approached.  I asked if there was anyone who could move our bags forward for us.  I told her of our plan to get off, walk down, and reboard.  And she said, “No, you’ll have to take your bags with you, and there’s no way you’ll have time to get off, walk down, and reboard.  We’re picking up one passenger and then we’re off.  The engineer’s not waiting for you.”  I decided to change our plan.  We’d walk through the cars.

If you’ve ever seen a movie where the good guy is chasing a bad guy through a moving train, that’s a lot of hooey.  It can’t happen.  The cars on a moving train go up and down, and side to side.  There’s no way you can run without falling.  We barely made it walking.  And, yes, we had to carry our bags.  I led the way through the cars.  You had to punch, or kick, a “push” button on both the car you were exiting and the car you were boarding.  One car was “up” and the other “down” each time we made the transfer.  We were rockin and rollin.

I never worried about falling off the train, but losing a foot between the two cars was a possibility, especially if you misjudged the step from one car to the other.

I really can’t say how long it took us.  I was too busy punching and kicking “push” buttons.  I lost track of time.  We did try to take a break in the dining car, but the attendants told us to “move along” after a thirty second sit down.

We got up, made our way through the remaining cars, and a very nice attendant helped us settle in.  She had our back through the remainder of the trip.

This video of the California Zephyr will give you an idea of the path we took.

(705) Tour of Amtrak’s California Zephyr – YouTube

TBC