Martha and I just returned from a nearly two-week excursion of train travel and visiting two West Coast cities. I had thought of posting something to my blog every day we were traveling, but that proved to be impractical. For most of the trip, we had no Wi-fi, and for much of it, not even cell service. When we were in places with full Internet access, we were busy soaking in the sights and sounds around us and pretty much crashed at the end of the day. I did, however, keep a log of our trip (including some reflections along the way), and now I’m going to post it in its entirety in six parts over six days. This will be a little confusing since the dates of publication will not line up with the dates the entries were written, but I hope you’ll derive some vicarious enjoyment from them. - JML
August 11, 8:30 a.m. in northern Indiana
Traveling by car along superhighways is boring. These huge arteries, largely insensitive to the landscape, strategically avoid getting too close to anything interesting. Signs let you know about “attractions” that are somewhere out of sight, but mostly they direct you toward motels, gas stations, and chain restaurants that look the same no matter what part of the country you are crossing.
Airplane travel is fast, but the novelty of seeing the landscape from up high is only available to half or less of the passengers and is seriously compromised by cramped seating, sinus pressure, and occasional turbulence. The view from six miles up can certainly be beautiful, but it is mostly monotonous and, of course, lacking the richness of detail.
America looks more real through the window of a train car. No gaudy billboards, no plastic retail strips or cheesy tourist traps. The tracks pass by sprawling farms, largely abandoned hamlets, and tall church spires in the distance marking rural crossroads. The large picture windows afford close-up views of vibrant downtowns in small cities and villages that remain unseen from the freeways. Passengers sidle up close to working and abandoned factories, gritty working-class neighborhoods with 70s-era sedans parked along curbs, backyards littered with toys or manicured with gardens sloping away from houses that appear to have been expanded multiple times, with far more attention to function than form. Older neighborhoods with stately but not overstated homes and newer subdivisions with well-kept front lawns also come into view.
Of course, you could see all this from a car if you stayed on two-lane roads, but on a train, somebody else is doing the work. You don’t have to stop at red lights, pull over for gas, wonder where you’re going to eat, wait at railroad crossings(!), or keep your eyes on the road. How about a bus? You’re not driving, so you’re free to watch the scenery, but buses follow roads. Trains – and only trains – follow tracks, which means they sometimes parallel roadways, but often make their own paths where no other form of transportation goes, affording perspectives of urban and rural landscapes and natural beauty unattainable any other way.