Riding into Winter and Whiling Away the Hours

We said farewell to Vancouver amidst an early burst of spring. A pink blossoming plum tree hung over the sunny south end of the depot and bunches of cheery daffodils nodded in the breeze.

 We waited for Train #28, Empire Builder, to cross over the Columbia River while chatting with Cassandra, Jeremy and kids. And then, with only two scheduled minutes on the platform, it was quick hugs and I love yous and we were dashing off to car #3028, room #7.

                                  

Little Fiona looked forlorn on the platform when we peered out our neighbor's window as we rolled from the station. Apparently she had thought she was going with Grammy and Auntie.

From Portland, OR to Spokane, WA, the train was relatively short, just an engine or two, a baggage car, observation car, a sleeper car and a couple of coach cars. Sometime after midnight we would be connecting with the Seattle based Train #8. There we would add on an engine, a dining car and another of each coach and sleeper. Thus, as the train wound through the sunset-shot Columbia River Gorge, we were served a cold meal of garlic-lime chicken in our seats.

Dinner over, we went to explore the length of the train. When we ran out of options, we settled in the upper level of the glassed-in observation car. The descending night wrapped us in reflections as we played a couple leisurely games of Dutch Blitz. Since there was no scenery to marvel at, most of the passengers had retired to their seats, but in the front-most booth there was a man playing a rousing game of solitaire; loudly, repeatedly, and I assume expertly, shuffling his cards. I, on the other hand, being no card shark, shuffled mine by spreading them out on the table and picking them back up. A newcomer to the game of Dutch Blitz, I am hoping to become proficient by the time we reach “Amish Country” in case I'm asked to join in a hand or two.

Night was long and sleep little. After discovering that we'd be visiting some rather chilly locales, we added winter gear to our wardrobe, thus adding to our luggage. I had forgotten how small a “roomette” is. Once our bunks were down and the luggage piled here and there, there wasn't a lot of room to stretch out. The coffee I had with my dessert was straight-up regular from an old fashioned perk pot so I was tired, but far from sleepy. Finally, around midnight, I succumbed to sleep with the gentle rocking of the train. Minutes later I woke to a still train and parted the curtains to the lights of Spokane.


Dawn began to blush the sky as we crossed into Mountain time zone near Whitefish, Montana. I lifted the curtains to see ghostly banks of snow among skeletal black trees. I peered as through a Narnian wardrobe into a land that would forever be winter, but never Christmas.