Mary Ann said that she slept only two hours overnight. She didn't have to finish her announcement. I knew the rest of it: I should go to breakfast alone, because she wouldn't be eating anything all day.
The dining car--and the whole train, in fact--was nearly full. This was exacerbated by the presence of two cars full of passengers for the Texas Eagle, a train that breaks off the Sunset Limited at San Antonio, from which it goes to Chicago. By the time I was seated for breakfast, it was we had finished the stop at Maricopa, the mini-station for Phoenix, it was around eight-thirty. So we've caught up a little of the lateness.
My breakfast partners were two women who appeared to be together at first glance, but who didn't know one another. One of them was in the computer programming business, and was on her way to a technical meeting. I didn't even begin to unload my woes with WordPress. The other woman was on her way to a different kind of meeting. She was a technical writer, if I understood her right.
Aboard the first sixty or seventy of the eighty or so long-distance trains on which I've breakfasted, they all offered what was always called "Railroad French toast." Which is French toast, period. My last five Amtrak travels have not offered this, in the railroad style or not. Who made that decision?
Pancakes, bacon and grits for me this morning. Mary Ann joined me when that came out, but she didn't stay once she procured a cup of tea.
[caption id="attachment_41784" align="alignnone" width="480"]
A nice steam locomotive on display in Tucson.[/caption]
We got lucky again in Tucson. The city fathers (one of whom was in dark suit and top hat) gathered in the train station to celebrate some event involving Tucson and its railroading history. Among many other attractions in this well-managed depot is a 2-6-0 "Mogul" steam locomotive. It's in good shape, if probably not operative. It bears the name of the Southern Pacific--the railroad on which the Sunset Limited traveled for most of its history. The locomotive was open to climbing into the cab, where a couple of guys in engineer-style bib overalls were explaining everything and letting kids pull the cord to ring the locomotive's bell.
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Chaparral for hundreds of miles, near the Continental Divide.[/caption]
The sun came out to blaze through the afternoon on the Southwestern deserts. Mary Ann and I both find that vista beautiful, in its stark way. The small depots in Benson, AZ, Lordsburg and Deming, NM had no em- or de-barkers, so the train just passed them by. In the old days, you could have waved the train to stop for you, but now that all ticketing makes its way onto a computerized system, that practice has ended.
Right around here is the lowest crossing of the Continental Divide on any of the transcontinental railroads. A good place to take a nap. But that's scheduled for later, so it's off to lunch. The same entree salad I ate heading west, with a different Paul Newman dressing. If I had been at home, I would have skipped the meal entirely.
At El Paso Mary Ann debarked, of course. I went looking for her. She was disappointed to learn that the long stay here on our way west would not be repeated, as the train continues to make up the delay it began with.
An hour and a half out of El Paso, we crossed the second line cutting our route into west and east portions. (The first was the Continental Divide.) Now we are on Central Time, our home zone. Whoopie!
I went down to take a shower, then up to take a nap. After than, my four-o'clock gin and tonic. Mary Ann says, not for the first time, that she envies me for getting so much pleasure from such trivial activities.
The Sunset Limited passes through the ideal place from which to observe the famously mysterious Marfa Lights. Our timing was perfect: it had just become dark.
Scientists have settled the conundrum of the lights, which float like big, wavy balloons off in the southern distance. They are mirages produced by automobile headlights fifty or more miles away. Their light is refracted by the large temperature gradients over the downsloping land.
For a long time, the Marfa Lights inspired a great deal of romance. An observation platform east of Marfa was a great spot to take your girlfriend to watch for the lights. When nothing happened, something happened.
I've been in those parts a dozen or so times, but never saw the Marfa Lights. And I didn't see them again tonight.
[caption id="attachment_41787" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Train #1, The Sunset Limited.[/caption]
The smokers and the conductors and engineers got off at Alpine, the latter two to give way to new teams. To Mary Ann's disappointment, the word went out that we were not to leave the platform. The train is still making up time.
Dinner. Mary Ann insists on sitting down facing in the same direction the train is moving. Only half the seats are arranged that way, and in order to let her have one of those the steward put us by ourselves in the part of the dining room they don't usually use. But I have tipped everybody in here enough to get what we want.
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Roasted chicken in the dining car of the Sunset Limited.[/caption]
I enjoyed the herbal roast half chicken, an enormous plate of food. Very tasty. They might want to do something about the vegetable medley, which is like eating wax. I can put up with that for a meal or two, but this is number three, with one yet to go.
We crossed two time zones today, so we went to bed early to be ready for the return to normal. I slept like the dead, as I always do on a train. Mary Ann was less restful, but she too would get a good night's sleep tonight.
[title type="h6"] Yesterday || Tomorrow[/title]
Written by Tom Fitzmorris April 01, 2014 12:01 in
