Traveling the US by train (wish we had a travel subforum)

[96583UP]

unless i had a friend there to supervise

[spike]

i took the amtrak acela recently and it was kinda worn down

would not want to shit in an amtrak bathroom for 3 days

drops of poopiter

[lennytheweedwhacker]

In his hair

[96583UP]

prob decent anonymous sex opportunities tho

[Higgs]

Back in 1998 we went to the US for our honeymoon. We landed in LA and then travelled all over the US via a rail pass that allowed us to travel as many train rides as we wanted, so long as we kept moving in the same direction (in our case clockwise).

We never had a sleeper but overall enjoyed the experience none the less. In particular I loved nights spent in the empty viewing carriage reading books and time spent in the smoking carriage, where we met some fantastic people every trip.

Reviewing my journal from the trip:

We took the 'Pacific Starlight Express' from LA to SF. 13 hr trip, really comfy reclining seats with plenty of legroom and were able to actually sleep in our seats. Surprisingly comfy. I finished reading a book about SRV on this journey.

Train from SF to Seattle ran for about 22 hours or so. All I've got is that my wife managed to sleep for 12 hours of that, the scenery was lovely, and I finished reading "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil".

Next was a 48 hour trip Seattle to Chicago on "The Empire Builder". This was our first train with a 'smoking lounge'. Spent a solid 4 hour block of time in there actively having to avoid having arguments about euthanasia and abortion with a crazy lady, but also laughing a lot and generally having a fun old time with other faggers. The Glacier National Park was spectacular from the viewing carriage. I finished reading "Mindhunter". Decided we would consider moving to Whitefish Montana some day. The staff on this trip were "a crack up". 3 days and 2 nights on board was a looong time though and a shower was desperately needed.

Then it was Chicago to Washington but I was hammered drunk when we got on board and basically slept that whole trip. I think we actively tried to travel at night where possible as it saved $s on accommodations.

Washington to Springfield Mass went through Philly and NY, which was cool, but we didn't visit either city. I made no notes on how this particular trip except that I finished reading "Drive" about Larry Bird.

Same goes for the return trip to Washington (no idea why we went back to Washington, but that's what we did).

Next trip was Washington to New Orleans and in news that bodes poorly for extended train travel plans my journal entry included "Ho hum. This train thing is getting to be a bit bloody boring.". I did however finish reading "The Last Banner - The Story of the 1986 Celtics".

Final big train journey of the trip was New Orleans to LA - this time 3 full nights on board with no sleeper! The pros of the trip were the people we met in the smoking carriage ("Ace, the Marlborough Man (seriously), Steve the poet Mr nice guy, Doug the funny English lad and Scott the Florida surfie dude“), time to read (finished" A Good Walk Spoiled - Days and Nights on the PGA Tour") and the staff on board, who were uniformly lovely (dining carriage Maitre D comped our dinner as we were such nice people. Lol). Cons - hard to sleep properly, we stink and, here I quote myself, "Texas is fucking boring".

The main takeaway though from all the train travel we did was that every train station in the US is called "Union Station", which can get confusing, so watch out for that. But otherwise, generally fun and certainly a relaxing way to go. I think a sleeper would absolutely be a game changer though, a shower even more so.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[wease]

Come to think of it I’m surprised that Jorge, a self-described extrovert, is into this idea. Definitely more of an introverted way to travel.

He’s multiverted

[bart]

I'll try it one day if my dog ever dies, which I'm beginning to doubt.

good

[Jorge]

Come to think of it I’m surprised that Jorge, a self-described extrovert, is into this idea. Definitely more of an introverted way to travel.

Interesting. Seems like everyone who's done this sort of travel points to the social aspect of it as a big highlight, linking up with strangers in the dining car and making friends. That sounds fun to me.

[Jorge]

But also, lately I've been overwhelmed and extremely busy with just about every aspect of my life, and a trip where I can disconnect from everyone I know and just look at a bunch of beautiful, unfamiliar landscapes for several days sounds extremely appealing right now

[96583UP]

sounds like hell on earth for me

second only to a cruise ship

may god have mercy on your souls

[Jorge]

You are a delicate flower

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

There are 37 people.

[spike]

There are 37 people.

Which one is the murderer???

[lennytheweedwhacker]

There are 37 people.

Which one is the murderer???

tree's wife

[doug rr]

a couple years ago my wife and I took the Amtrak coastal one from LA to Seattle..it was supposed to be about 28 hours or so and it was around 40 due to some snow and a mechanical..we did have the sleeper cabin which made it easier to endure..I love riding on trains but that was a bit too long

[lennytheweedwhacker]

I want to ride trains in Europe somebody hook me up

[96583UP]

u wanna ride the long train u got it