Planes, Trains, and Wagons East

So, I made it. And, already, I’ve done so much since I arrived. But first, the ride itself. Three days of trains… turns out I’m not as crazy as you might expect. The ride was, in a word, incredible. The first leg of the journey between Washington, DC and Chicago was just as I remembered it. The green mountains of West Virginia and Pennsylvania disappeared as I slept and gave way to the vast cornfields of Ohio and Indiana after I awoke. I say slept, but really there wasn’t much sleep. I was fortunate enough to have a window seat next to a really nice rising freshman at Knox College named Alec. We chatted about history, books, and more, but as any person does, he took up a whole seat next to me for the entire trip. The nerve of this guy. Anyway, I spent most of the night in the observation car observing blackness while I stretched out among the empty seats there. Fortunately, because I didn’t sleep, I saw the sun rise. Two hours later and we were in Chicago.


Four dollars an hour for a storage locker at the train station makes angry Seth. I reluctantly coughed up the dough for an hours reprieve from the six hour layover in the station and took a stroll along the Chicago River. What a gorgeous city, and what nice people, at least that’s what I experienced. I’ve heard otherwise about the people. The six hours went by in a flash (sarcasm included) and then I was on my way to Seattle.


Mad props to Mary, our car attendant, for giving me a seat buddy for only eight of the 46 hours, none happening at night. So I had two seats to myself both nights, and strangely enough, those seats really helped my back.


I quickly made friends with Mike, a veteran of the US military’s presence in South Korea (’65) and an avid Notre Dame Football fan. I know, it was a match made in heaven. We gabbed about our commonalities and hopped on and off the train together to stretch our legs. Oh, and the sunset over the Mississippi was, dare I say, incredible. (Forgive the reflection, though I think it looks awesome).


Now, if the fields of Indiana are as flat as a pancake, the plains of North Dakota and Montana are like paper. An endless roll of paper. Fields of grain went off to the horizon for miles, and I got lost in them from my seat. Then came the Rockies, as if from nowhere. At first they loom in the distance as mere shadows, growing higher every minute. Then, as quickly as they appeared, I was in their midst, straining my neck to see their peaks. Darkening slopes of Pine lulled me to sleep, and we travelled through most of the mountains as I slept.


Asleep in the Rockies and waking in the foothills of the Cascades could not be more disorienting.  The Cascades, though lower than the Rockies, were much more jagged.


They soon fell away and sprung the Puget Sound from their depths. I had arrived. Well, not quite. I only arrived when I jumped into the loving arms of my Cousin Olivia and Aunt Jory.

You might be asking yourself how I entertained myself for those 66 hours. First, I talked with my friendly neighbors. For all the airplane folks out there, you will never travel with as friendly people as you will find on Amtrak. Second, I read. Not only did I read, I learned, I explored, I realized, and I understood the real humanity through the writings of Daniel Quinn in his book Ishmael. I’m not going to go into that except to say: read this book if you want to live. Third, I watched television, namely the second season of Flight of the Conchords, on my lovely new laptop (THANKS MOM!!!). My luck being my luck, the 17 hour train had electrical outlets while the 46 hour ride did not. Oh well, I survived. Fourth, I listened to music. Thanks to Sam and Brendan for all the new music that kept me listening for hours. And last, but most important, I watched the land of this country unfold before me. An unending parchment unrolled outside my window telling the story of this country cover to cover, or coast to coast as it may be. Before this trip, Houston, TX was the only city I had visited west of Chicago, and flying over land, the scroll was illegible. Though I only rode through a tiny strip of land, I feel I understand this country more than I ever have.

More understanding to come as I explore the Pacific Northwest.

A little send-off from my new stomping ground...