#27 The Journey's Conclusion and Some Candid Thoughts

 May 18, 2023

Having slept quite well on this last night on the train, I awakened to the familiar landscape of eastern Washington.  The broad waters of the Columbia River slid placidly along beneath the glow of morning light.  Our dining car was now en route to Seattle, having parted ways with our train in the wee hours of the morning.  Thus my breakfast was a quick muffin and coffee from the café car.  

Though I've lived most of my life on the "wet coast", these scenes of the dry side of Washington (and Oregon) still speak of home to me.  Having traveled by car to North Dakota and back every summer of my childhood, the river with its many dams, the sagebrush and tawny hills all speak comfort to me.  Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in our trusty station wagon, about now I would be pondering how my garden had grown in our absence.  And how tall the pesky pigweeds had grown.  I ached to get my bare feet on the cool soil and my fingers in the dirt.

Newcomers on the scene are the graceful, if somewhat controversial, wind turbines.  Today, the nearly ever-present gorge wind is absent, and their arms stilled.  The river is a perfect mirror beneath the drab sky.  

There have been some sour notes on this last leg of the trip that, while causing me no harm, made it less than pleasant.  My attendant clearly would prefer another line of work.  Apathetic at best, she made no effort to solve issues that came up (beginning with the flood in my room).  Halfway home we ran out of bottled water.  The water from the sinks is potable but they don't suggest drinking it. Then there was a stretch where the toilets in our car quit functioning.  Our attendant (name intentionally withheld) said, "I don't know.  Maybe they are just full."  She then suggested we use the restroom in another car.  There were several other situations that aren't worth recording for posterity, but that marred the experience.  But are experiences more valuable when everything goes perfectly as planned or expected?  Probably not.  However, I have often sung the praises of train travel, so perhaps a bit of transparency is in order.  Things quite often are not as expected.  The truth is, most of the train cars are quite old and things don't always function properly.  

Mid morning I had gathered my sundered belongings and sat down to watch as icons of the Willamette Valley came into view.  The deeper, blue-green of the evergreen-clad hills and the thousands of logs waiting to be shipped out to ports around the world.

And then at last the snowy peak of Mt Hood over the gray waters of the river.  Though it would still be some time before the train would pause in Vancouver long enough for me to get down, I brought my little carry-on down by the door.  Then, backpack on, I sat on the edge of my seat for the final minutes.  I was nearly home.