#10, Back on the Eagle, bound for Chicago

 February 14-15, 2024

I have a strong aversion to the idea of missing a train, so after a relaxing swim and donning clean pajamas, I set my alarm for 5:45 the next morning.  You never know how long it will take to get a ride to the station or what might go wrong.  Whether from anxiety or anticipation, I scarcely had slept a wink when I rolled over and saw that my clock said 5:30.  I gave up, got dressed and headed through the silent halls to the hotel lobby.  Past the shadowy pool and past all the plaques and photos of Old St. Mary's.  

Check-out these days consists merely of tossing your plastic key card in a box (if you remember).  The smiling and wide-awake door man graciously offered to carry my little roller bag and get me a taxi.  "Are there still taxis?", I asked.  He assured me that there was but said that maybe I wanted to take Uber.  I used my app to call an Uber, but later thought it might have been fun to take a taxi.  And maybe the driver would have worn a cute hat instead of an ear gage.  But either way, I arrived at the San Antonio Amtrak nearly an hour ahead of time.  The Texas Eagle loomed large on the tracks in the shadows near the station.  She was silent, and obviously no where near ready to be boarded.  So I pushed my way into the station.  Inside it was bright, with numerous people sprawled across the plastic chairs.  As I would be sitting on the train for many hours, I didn't mind standing, but eventually someone moved their belonging so I could have a chair to call home base.

At last, at a few minutes before our departure we were allowed to board.  At 7:00 we began to move, but backwards.  Something to do with being on the wrong track, we had to back several miles around the city.  I'm not sure why they didn't do it before we were allowed to board, but finally we were on our way as the sun was streaking the sky with pink.

Now heading in the right direction we were moving across the broad expanse of Texas, in a northeasterly fashion.  Breakfast was brought to me in a bag as there is no dining car on this train.  The menu options for those in the sleepers on this train are few.  I opted for the omelet.  Packaged in all plastic, and heated in plastic (which makes me cringe) it was a cheesy omelet with peppers and a side of chicken sausage.  Not bad, all things considered.  Later in the morning we crossed Lady Bird Lake, which is part of the Colorado River.

Shortly after, we screeched to a stop in Austin, TX.

Sometime after breakfast I made one of the two seats in my roomette into a bed, and curled up with the supplied pillows for a nice nap.  No sooner did I doze off when there was a knock on my door by the lady running the café car.  She was taking orders for our lunches that our attendant would bring by later.  As she closed the door, she said with a wink, "You'd be more comfortable putting the whole bed down and adding the mattress."  Even though it's "my room" for the duration of the trip, I've always been shy about making the bed myself, as some room attendants get pretty huffy about it. 

And so the hours and miles slipped by.  I often have no idea where we are unless they announce a station.  Texas is big, so we traveled through it for most of the day, even though we were starting out in the middle.  Cities, small towns, fields, lakes and unknown rivers.  And always cool rustic things to see.  

I got down to stretch my legs in both Fort Worth and Dallas, as we had fairly lengthy stops in each city.  

Our train from San Antonio is short.  Only four cars follow the somewhat battered engine #63.  One sleeper, a café car, and two coach cars.  The baggage is on the lower level of one of the coaches.

In Dallas I went into their huge station but there was nothing in there except a ticket counter and this shoe shine stand.  It was just a very large, open room.  A few benches but no people.

So I walked on through and out the opposite doors, which would really be the front doors.  After a short walk down the street, I crossed over and took a picture of the front of the station. 

 

Then I dashed back through the station and onto the train, frequently looking at my watch.  Always on my mind was a recent conversation with a young couple who had gotten back to the train a couple of minutes late and it left without them.  They had to fly to their destination.  

I made it on time, and the rest of the day passed uneventfully.  The salmon dinner was very overcooked and under par but possibly still had some nutrients.  Shortly before we rattled our way into Arkansas, the sun slipped below the horizon and I took myself to bed. 

At 6:30 in the morning I was in the middle of a good dream when I was awakened by a voice yammering on about something.  Annoyed, I turned off my sound machine and determined that it was our conductor.  He was cheerfully letting us know that we had arrived in St. Louis, Missouri an hour earlier than our expected arrival.  Thus, we had time to get down and look about if we were so inclined.  I was not.  But of course I couldn't get back to sleep either, so I went and got a cup of coffee from the percolator down the hall.  As I was eating my packaged continental breakfast, we got underway and headed out of the city.  

Views of the Gateway Arch, 630 feet tall, could be seen from many points as we made our way out of the city. 

Crossing the Mississippi River!

The remainder of the day we would travel through Illinois.  Under partly cloudy skies we passed farms, fields and small towns.

One of my favorite aspects of train travel is that I'm not driving, so I study the homes I pass and wonder who lives in them, and what it would be like to be in their place.  Some homes, so remote, and some with the tracks practically upon them.  

In the following pictures there's a metal fence, but that's actually quite rare.  Often the house is a short stone's throw from the train, with all the detritus of living strewn about the back yard.  Occasionally chairs are placed so that the family can chew the fat while the train thunders away twenty feet from the soles of their propped-up feet. 

We pulled into the cavernous train garage in Chicago's Union Station shortly before 2:00 pm.  I love train travel but it's always nice to get down and stretch, and walk without having to hang onto something.