posted
“Am I brave, foolish, or just plain mad” was the thread I posted last September having booked a coast-to-coast trip on the Sunset Ltd. I posed the question not because there is a predisposition to madness in the williams gene (although some might disagree) but due to the number of horror stories I had heard about getting stuck in the Arizona Desert for hours on end with no water, sanitation or air-conditioning and arriving in LA a whole day late etc. Even a tough old coot like me might have their patience tested by such an experience but given that the sleeper supplement was only half what I was being asked for on my two possible alternative trips (Chicago-LA on the Eagle/Sunset or Chicago-San Luis Obispo on the Empire Builder/Coast Starlight via Portland), also that I really wanted to see something of the southern states and that the williams spirit of adventure still has some gas left in the tank it really was too good an offer to turn down.
So, eight months later, it was off to the airport and Florida here we come. The holiday couldn’t have started better as when I got to the departure gate the nice man explained to me that the flight was full, so I had been upgraded from Economy to Business Class to help fit everybody in. Yes, I think I could live with that, thank you very much! Business class really takes the pain out of transatlantic travel. We took off under grey skies and to my surprise, headed due west. On every previous flight I’ve taken to America, we’ve flown out over south-west Scotland (for obvious reasons, the town of Lockerbie no longer appears on the in-flight maps) but this time we were heading out a different way, and I suddenly realised that it would take me over my childhood home. The clouds had cleared and my mind took me back forty years to when I was a small boy and would look up at the jets flying high overhead. We lived right next to a railway line, and that’s where I got my interest in trains. Passenger services had been withdrawn several years before, the line had been reduced to single-track, and the closure of a local coal-mine and a brick factory reduced traffic even further but there was still a trickle of fright and coal trains throughout my youth. There were never any trains on weekends and it was commonplace to see people (even my law abiding parents) walking their dogs along the tracks or using them as a short cut to get to the local soccer pitch and sports club. Although illegal there was almost an unwritten local understanding that nobody trespassed on weekdays but trainless weekends and public holidays were fair game. We never once saw a police officer or railway official as in those days they probably really did have better things to do with their time. To get around a particularly steep area, a very prominent horseshoe curve had taken the track over two small river valleys, and although the line was finally closed and lifted in the early 1980’s the horseshoe of the old trackbed could clearly still be seen from six miles above the ground. It was a very poignant moment as I have not visited this area for many, many years. My mother passed away twenty years ago last month and my family, childhood friends and former neighbours have either all moved away from the area or are themselves no longer with us, so I have had no cause to go there for nearly two decades. I really must go back one day…..
Sunday morning dawned over Orlando and to my surprise I woke to hear the sound of heavy rain lashing against the motel window. The local news channel reported that there had been severe thunderstorms and flooding over the Florida panhandle and I wondered if there might be problems ahead. I thought of calling Amtrak but decided that there was no point in worrying about it. I was on vacation, I wasn’t in a hurry and if the line was flooded there was nothing I could do about it anyway. It was a humid, steamy morning but by 9.00am the rain had stopped so after breakfast I strolled to the nearby garage shop to stock up on provisions for the trip. I always travel light and never check baggage, picking up any bits and pieces I need on the way. My most unusual purchase was a one gallon container of drinking water ($1.09) which I thought might become priceless at some point in the next three days!
The station at Orlando was crowded with several hundred people, most of whom were awaiting the southbound Silver Meteor which was showing as “on time” and therefore due in the next few minutes. I picked up my ticket from a very disinterested counter clerk who never looked up once, preferring to chat to his colleague, and strolled out onto the busy platform. The sound of a train horn caused everybody to pick up their bags and move forward but whilst it was indeed an Amtrak train that was approaching, I could see that it was a “Superliner” consist so couldn’t have been the Meteor. It wasn’t doing more than about 10mph but it went straight through the station without stopping, much to the consternation of one Silver Meteor passenger, a man in his late 50s who picked up his bag and started running after it! Fortunately, an Amtrak employee caught up with him before he could get too far down the track and he rather sheepishly shuffled back into a corner of the platform whilst a number of onlookers had varying degrees of success in trying to suppress their laughter.
12.20 became 12.30, 12.40 and 12.50, and the train had still not arrived, nor had there been any update to the “on time” which was still showing on the information board. I couldn’t help thinking that the person who issued my ticket was the same person responsible for making announcements. To be fair, one Amtrak employee on the platform was on his radio, loudly berating somebody over the lack of information and a minute or so later an announcement was made apologising for the “slight” delay, and the train would be here “in two or three minutes”. At 1.05 it would be here “very soon” and at 1.15 its arrival was “imminent”. At 1.20 it finally rolled in and I would estimate that about 120 people got off, and about the same number got on. It departed at 1.32, just over one hour late, leaving the stage clear for the main event, which would be here “in 7 or 8 minutes”.
At 1.48 (already three minutes after departure time) the consist that I had seen going the other way some 90 minutes earlier rolled in and was announced as Train #1, the Sunset Limited. Just one engine, transition sleeper, sleeper, diner, sightseer lounge, 2 coach (the second of which was a coach/baggage) and for whatever reason another sightseer lounge (no separate baggage wagon but one was later hooked onto the rear, presumably from the Texas Eagle at San Antonio). Unusually, the sleeper attendants checked the tickets on the platform (in the past the Conductor has come around to collect them in the rooms after departure) and I made my way to Room E on the upper level. I was on the right-hand side of the train which meant that there was the slight disappointment of having the sofa face away from the direction of travel, so the armchair would have to be used for much of the journey. However, unlike my 2003 trip on the Southwest Chief at least the windows were clean. This was the first time I had travelled in a deluxe sleeper and I settled in to what would be my home for the next 71 hours (assuming we arrived on time), with large atlas, binoculars and camera at the ready. It was an inauspicious start as we didn’t roll out of Orlando until 2.03, so we were already 18 minutes late before we had gone anywhere. The sleeper attendant, Sharon, came in to introduce herself. A slightly nervous, always looking flustered woman in her 40s, she was a “spare” on the roster so worked whatever route was needed to cover for staff absences and vacations etc. She made no secret of the fact that the SL was her least favourite route due to the frequent delays, the sheer length of the journey and the countless permutations of sleeper passengers getting on and off, but she did her job professionally and with courtesy, she was always “on view”, made sure that the coffee and juices were always replenished, the beds put up and down when required and you cannot ask for anything more.
Apparently, there used to be a second sleeper car from Orlando, but it had been taken off towards the end of last year (Sharon had heard it would be restored for the peak summer months), but this meant that there was only one empty standard berth once we left Jacksonville and this was due to be occupied from Pensacola. All the public sleepers in the transition car were occupied and several passengers complained that they had booked deluxe many months in advance, only to get a call from Amtrak later on telling them they had been downgraded to standard. In coach, it was a different story – I would estimate that even after Jacksonville there was no more than about 35% occupancy, everybody travelling solo had a double seat to themselves and there were a number of empty doubles.
The couple in the next sleeper to me were only travelling as far as New Orleans. I knew this as the very loud southern gentleman spent much of the first hour shouting to the people who were going to collect them from the station. Why he didn’t use a telephone I don’t know, but the volume made me glad he wasn’t going all the way to Los Angeles…..
We headed north, and I understood why some Trainweb members had recommended Winter Park as an alternative joining point. The sun had come out and it looked a very pleasant place to spend a few hours. I was surprised at how rural and isolated much of the route was between Orlando and Jacksonville. We had the most wonderful sight of a large, white bird (either a stork or a crane) which had caught a fish and was carrying it in its claws as for a few seconds it flew parallel to the train but about an hour into our journey I saw the first of several really astonishing wildlife sights. We had stopped for no apparent reason for a few minutes and as we pulled away again, I looked down to see, not 12 feet from the tracks, what I thought at first glance were two large farm fowl of some sort, possibly turkeys, but upon taking a closer look I saw that they were VULTURES. I’m not joking; they were straight out of cartoon time, jet black with a few red markings, the famous hooked neck and an evil expression, feasting on a sizeable fish carcass. Sadly I didn’t have time a get a photo as even I couldn’t believe what I had seen. I thought I might see something like that in the Arizona desert but not here.
We had our first announcement from the dining car manager: there would be no sittings for dinner, it would be “first come first served”, and both the dining car and snack bar would be open from around 5.00pm. We were already slipping behind schedule, the 18 minutes at the start had become 27 by DeLand and 36 by Palatka, and I wondered if it was an omen that as we backed into Jacksonville at just before 6.00pm the skies darkened and the rain began to fall, but hunger was now uppermost in my mind so I headed for the restaurant. I normally eat around 7.00 in the evening so I had ignored the first call to dinner but with my body-clock still on UK time and thinking that there might be an influx of people after Jacksonville I thought I’d get down there just before we reached the station and avoid the line. I needn’t have worried. There were only seven people in the diner, so I made up the second table of four with three people from coach. Dining companion number 1 was a young man of 23 who was going to visit a friend in Pensacola. As a Brit, I always find it astonishing to hear a 23 year old say that (apart from the New York subway) it was the first time he had ever been on a train. It was only because it was a late decision to travel meant that he couldn’t get a cheap flight at a convenient time that somebody had suggested Amtrak and he had decided to give it a try. Dining companion number 2 was a lady in her 60s who was only going as far as Tallahassee and number 3 an elderly, somewhat scruffy gent who sadly was difficult to understanding due to speaking difficulties, but we ascertained that he was going all the way to LAX in coach to meet his daughter who was arranging medical treatment for his throat. There was an eerie silence as everything had gone quiet, and the dining-car manager came along and apologised for the delay in our food arriving, but they had lost all power to the kitchen, and it was about 20 minutes before it was restored. Happily, the throat problem didn’t affect number 3’s appetite or his ability to eat as when the food did eventually arrive he demolished the salmon, as did number 2, whilst number 1 and myself tucked into an immaculate loin of pork, so tender it fell off the bone, washed down by a very agreeable half bottle of Californian Cabernet Sauvignon. A number of sleeper passengers had joined at Jacksonville and over the next hour the diner got busier, but it was noticeable that only two or three come from the other direction. It also became apparent that the dining-car manager only had one assistant, but the two of them coped without any problem whatsoever, apart from the temporary power loss.
Dinner over and I returned to my sleeper, on the way having to assist two elderly ladies who, despite it being a smooth ride, were having trouble getting around in a moving train (I dread to think how they would have managed on the SWC across Missouri and Kansas – on that trip people were being thrown everywhere and one jolt literally lifted me off my bed). They were in A or B and went all the way to LAX but this was the only time I saw them as Sharon took the rest of their meals to their room for them for the rest of the trip. I’m not a movie fan and was content to watch, in the words of the hymn, “the golden evening brighten in the west” as the rain had cleared and we were again travelling under blue skies, but the effects of the previous day’s heavy rain could be seen in the fields and by the side of the tracks. Just as my body-clock was reminding me that it was nearly 1.00am in England and I was contemplating z-z-z-z-z-ville the gentleman next door once again decided to have a conversation with somebody several hundred miles away so I thought that a stroll to the lounge for a nightcap might not be such a bad idea after all.
There were about 30 people spread out across the two levels of the lounge car, half of them watching the film, some chatting among themselves, and a group of four downstairs who, although no problem whatsoever, had clearly been having a very heavy session at the bar. The snack bar attendant was Jose, an Amtrak veteran with 18 years service, who usually did either the SL or the SWC, but until it was axed, his main run used to be the late, lamented Desert Wind. As LA-Las Vegas comes up as a discussion topic probably more times than anything else on Trainweb, I asked him for his views on why it was axed, why Amtrak didn’t just keep the service as far as Las Vegas, and what was the chance of a Vegas restoration? He made some very interesting comments. Ridership had dropped off sharply in the early 90s and reducing the Desert Wind to three days a week had only made matters worse. Loadings on some trips had fallen to totally unsustainable levels – he recalled one journey where the number on board hadn’t exceeded ELEVEN at any point between LAX and Salt Lake City (Mr. Mineta would love that one). His most interesting comment, though, was on the possible role of the Las Vegas casinos in funding or subsidizing a train. “No problem at all – a number of them offered to do it in 1997 when the line was under threat and they’d do it today – but only if the train stopped at or near their own particular casino.” It’s so obvious when you think about it, isn’t it? The Vegas strip is what, six or eight miles long? You couldn’t stop in a dozen different places and the casinos aren’t going to put considerable dollars into something that drops you a) miles away and b) right outside their competitors. I pondered this as we chatted, but we were eventually approaching Tallahassee some 52 minutes late (and much to the relief of the smokers who had been unable to indulge their craving since Jacksonville) and it really was “next stop z-z-z-z-z-ville”, and time to turn in.
Next week, Part 2: "Bring me an alligator - and make it snappy!"
Posts: 395 | From: england | Registered: Sep 2002
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posted
It's always enlightening to learn how visitors perceive my country. Thank you. It's a good read so far. Let us know how the rest of the trip goes.
-------------------- "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one corner of the Earth all one's life." Posts: 506 | From: Wisconsin | Registered: Mar 2002
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I'm glad to see, Mr. Williams, that so far at least the Sunset Limited hasn't left you stranded in a swamp or burning desert. This December I've decided to risk a trip from New Orleans to Ontario Calif. Like you I wondered if I've gone mad to even attempt it. Good luck for the rest of your trip.
Posts: 524 | From: Toronto Ont. Canada | Registered: Mar 2001
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As usual, a very enjoyable piece of prose from Mr. Williams. Thank you.
Posts: 2649 | From: California's Monterey Peninsula | Registered: Dec 2000
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Fantastic read so far. I am reading everything pertinant to the Sunset that I can find right now. I have some Guest Reward points begging to be cashed in and I'll admit that giving the Sunset a try for the first time since 2002 is high on my list.
Maybe next time you can explore Winter Park a bit. I was there in December for a family event and managed to do a little train watching downtown.
David Pressley
Posts: 4203 | From: Western North Carolina | Registered: Feb 2004
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posted
I also have 15,000 points to burn and will be booking a Houston to Alpine, TX round trip around the Labor Day weekend.
In March, I complained about the lack of a connection with the Coast Starlight and the Sunset Limited, causing me to have to fly to Albuquerque for the start of my annual Amtrak Vacation. Amtrak sent me a $50 voucher as an apology, so it seems only fair that I use it on the Sunset.
To use the Guest Rewards, I have to leave on August 31, before the blackout dates for the holiday, and I'll use the $50 voucher on the return trip on Labor Day. The Sunset leaves Houston at 9:50 pm, allowing my wife and I to work that day and still make the departure time. I'm scheduled to get back to Houston at 5:45 am on Tuesday, giving my wife and I enough time to get to work on Tuesday, thus only burning 2 days of vacation (Thurday & Friday). {sleepers both ways, of course}
And, Mr Williams... Is Sunday the last day of the week in England? Does that mean you will be posting more of your travelogue on Monday? {is Monday considered "next week"?} Posts: 1418 | From: Houston, Republic of Texas | Registered: Jan 2001
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quote:Originally posted by mikesmith: {is Monday considered "next week"?}
Generally, yes! I guess it might depend how religious you are...
quote:It's always enlightening to learn how visitors perceive my country.
Oh, you do ok. A little less xenophobia and more common sense from certain government departments, a little less volume when you come over here, and you'll do fine!
I actually like the Sunset - in fact, it's the train I've been on the most, albeit never the whole stretch in one go. Sitting in the Arizona desert for 5 hours staring at the same fence post may not be the most exciting thing in the world but the rest of the journey makes up for it.
Looking forward to the next leg!
Geoff M.
-------------------- Geoff M. Posts: 2426 | From: Apple Valley, CA | Registered: Sep 2000
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Great read Mr. Williams. I am looking forward to the next chapter.I will be traveling on the Sunset in late August from Jacksonville to LA in a roomette. I ve doneit a few times and it's always a thrill. I do remember how empty the tran is East of New Orleans.
posted
(Apologies that Part 2 is a day late, but yesterday was the Baptism of my 11-month-old God-daughter)
Monday morning, and I awoke to the sound of silence and realised that we weren’t moving. It was just after five and the first hint of dawn was appearing away to the east. I dozed for about half an hour when I realised that we still weren’t moving, so I got up, fetched some juice and coffee and took a shower. We started moving at about 5.45 and the first question was “where are we?” If we were on time we should be somewhere between Port St Louis and New Orleans, so it was atlas and binoculars at the ready, and FM radio tuned to the strongest local signal to see if that could offer any clue as to our whereabouts. The scenery was stunning, thick green forests punctuated by the early morning mist rising off rivers, lakes and swamps. It looked just like something out of National Geographic but I couldn’t help feeling that it seemed far too rural and not coastal enough to be somewhere near New Orleans. Where, for instance, was the Gulf of Mexico? It should be in sight by now. As we approached a more urban area I was able to pick out some roadsigns and this, along with the places mentioned in the 6.00am local news broadcast brought a gradual realisation that we were not approaching the Big Easy. Far from it. In fact, we weren’t even in Mississippi…..we were still in Alabama!
We rolled into Mobile exactly three and a half hours late and I rolled into breakfast. It was a beautiful sunny morning and the scrambled eggs, bacon and orange juice hardly touched the sides, but why, oh why, don’t Amtrak do something as basic and essential as toast with their breakfasts!!! I was joined by three sleeper passengers: Bill, a USAF Colonel on the verge of retirement, who was going to visit his son in San Francisco before taking the Starlight, Empire Builder and Eagle to his home in St Louis; Gordon, an IT technician heading to see his brother in San Diego and Ken, an eye surgeon who had done a major overseas rail trip every one of the past five years but this year had been “grounded” by his wife and restricted to the Sunset Limited. The padding in the schedule meant that we should make up some time and the discussion centred on how long we would have in New Orleans. Several people were discussing jumping into a cab and having a look at the French Quarter but it would all be a matter of timing. Meanwhile, attention was focused on the riverside casinos and the vast expanse of the Mississippi delta, as we passed through Biloxi and Gulfport, and finally approached the Big Easy. There were several announcements from the Conductor warning us that we had to get through several freight bottlenecks and updating us on our progress, but the best announcement of all came from the assistant Conductor, who came on and said “Folks, if we’re going to see any alligators, we’re coming up to the place where we’re most likely to see them in about two minutes time, and you need to be on the right-hand side of the train”. Just as he promised, we came around a bend alongside a swampy lagoon, and immediately two small alligators could be seen sunning themselves no more than twenty yards from the train. Two more appeared a hundred yards later, yet another leapt into the water as we approached and finally by far the biggest of the lot, probably some 8-10 feet in length, just lying in the sun with its jaws wide open. Although somewhat blurred (it’s not easy trying to photograph an alligator through a train window at 60mph) it has become one of the pride and joys of the williams photo album.
After two more hold-ups, the chances of getting to see New Orleans were receding fast. Finally, we came alongside the Superdome and backed into the station at exactly 11.00 am. The Conductor warned that anybody going out of the station area did so at their own risk as the train would depart promptly at 11.55 and wouldn’t wait for them if they returned late; also, if anybody had belongings in the second sightseer lounge at the rear of the train could they please remove them as it was being disconnected here. I stepped out onto the platform where I found Bill from breakfast discussing what to do with several other sleeper passengers. It was a great shame to come all that way and not see the French Quarter and the other attractions but the general consensus was that anything could go wrong and if it did there wasn’t another train for two days. One group decided to risk it and dashed off to find a cab. I contented myself with stretching my legs in the immediate station area and with a trip to the gift shop. It was a beautiful morning and it was already very warm. As I wandered back onto the platform where the smokers had gathered I couldn’t help noticing that I had twice been passed by a jogger in full running kit, complete with walkman. Apparently, he was a coach passenger who went running at every possible opportunity (I mention him here because he pops up again further along the trip). Meanwhile, the engines were being disconnected. A second engine had been added at Jacksonville, but it was not the usual type you see on the long distance Superliner trains. Although painted in the Amtrak logo and colours this was more like a freight engine design with square ends and what can best be described as a “horizontal ladder” on the side. The Conductor, a friendly man in his early 50s, told me they had had trouble hooking it up to the “normal” engine and that was why they had been without power in the kitchen for a while the previous evening. The various platform staff busied themselves with trolleys, supplies and water hoses, and Sharon hopped up and down with annoyance because her supplies of juice and water hadn’t arrived. On her previous trip through NOL they had mysteriously disappeared and she was determined it would not happen again. She went off in search of them, and one of the smokers observed that when Sharon walked quickly, she waddled like one of those wind-up clockwork toys we had as kids. Those of you over 30 will remember them – you wound up the key in their back, put them down on a table or a flat surface and off they went. At that exact moment she re-appeared about fifty yards down the platform, and we all exploded in laughter as we saw exactly what she meant! Fortunately, she was too far away to realise that we were having a chuckle at her expense and she returned with a triumphant look on her face, accompanied by a colleague carrying her supplies. As we approached departure time the Conductor realised that a stream of new passengers were coming up the platform and getting on the train. Nobody was checking tickets at the gate as they came onto the platform and the assistant conductors had disappeared, so nobody in coach was being given a seating allocation. A number of passengers had got to the far end of the platform, only to be turned around and sent back as they were travelling in coach but some of them were in sleepers - including my new neighbours in Room D - and Sharon sorted out their tickets whilst the Conductor got on his radio to find out where his assistants had gone. “Last cigarette, folks” he called to the nicotine brigade “it’s time to go” only to be laughed at. He looked puzzled for a second, but the smokers pointed to the front of the train and chorused as one: “we’re not going anywhere – there’s no engines!” The Conductor stared in disbelief for a moment, sucked in his cheeks, gave a wry grin, and realised that it wasn’t going to be his day. Fortunately for the poor man’s sanity two engines (of the “normal” design) appeared at that very moment reversing slowly towards us. They were shortly hooked on leaving us ready to go.
We pulled out exactly on time and went about a mile before grinding to a halt for over 20 minutes. The Conductor made an announcement asking that everyone stayed exactly where they were and didn’t wander around the train just for a few minutes whilst they checked the tickets and sorted out the seat allocations for those that had joined at NOL but he had barely finished speaking when the dining-car manager came on announcing that Lunch was now being served so could everyone please come to the dining-car. Less than 30 seconds later a somewhat chastened dining-car manager was announcing that the dining-car would be open in a few minutes time……after the Conductor had checked the tickets! My lunch companions were my new neighbours. They had travelled from Florida to NOL on the Sunset a few days earlier, had stopped off to attend a jazz event, and were now heading to Seattle to see their new grand-daughter for the first time. It was clear to me within seconds that Phil, the husband, had a strong London accent which he had not lost despite having lived in the States since 1966. They were taking the rail trip to celebrate his retirement and their Silver Wedding anniversary. His wife (whose name escapes me) was a stunningly pretty black lady, and I was astonished that she was a grandmother celebrating 25 years of marriage. She was 56 but could have passed for 35. Like a number of other passengers, they were connecting with the Coast Starlight at LAX but their plans had been thrown into chaos by the re-scheduling of the SL in March, and they had had the dreaded phone call from Amtrak telling them that the same day connection to the CS was no more.
If getting from A to B is your sole objective, there IS still a northbound same day connection out of the SL to all places served by the CS except one. The 12.30 northbound Surfliner connects at Santa Barbara into a Thruway bus which stops at all points to San Jose. The Capitol Corridor then links intermediate stations between SJC and Sacramento. If you are going north of Sacramento, the connection is the Thruway bus from LAX to Bakersfield, then a San Joaquin to Sacramento where it catches up with the CS (sorry, Mr Toy, the one exception is Monterey, which has no later bus link to/from Salinas). The disadvantage, of course, is that you miss the rail trip up the coast and have anything between a three and seven hour bus ride. This was not acceptable to most of the riders that I spoke to and they had said that they would spend 24 hours in LA and travel on the next day. They were not impressed that Amtrak had originally threatened them with having to pay a steep supplement (one person was quoted an extra $600) as the sleeper add-on would not be the same price the next day, but they had all stood firm, pointing out that it was Amtrak who were breaking the contract, not them. Grudgingly, Amtrak had backed down, let them re-book on the next day’s CS at the same price, but only on the understanding that Amtrak were not paying for a night in LA. I heard this from five or six people, and apart from being bad PR I find the position Amtrak took to be absolutely indefensible. Fair enough not to pay for a night in LA, perhaps, but the rest? No way. They had clearly been told to see if they could get away with it and apply pressure, but to back down if the customer stood firm. The meek do not inherit Amtrak’s earth!
The Huey Long Bridge proved to be one of the highlights of the trip and lunch was accompanied by the clicks and whirrs of cameras. A few miles later we stopped again, and this turned out to be a lengthy delay of nearly two hours caused by freight congestion. You can tell how bad it got as a “beware of the ***” sign on a nearby house became the main talking point in the sightseer lounge. After about an hour the *** appeared in the garden, setting off a chorus of “oh look, there he is”. Now this was getting a bit sad so I decided, having been up since just after five, that an afternoon snooze might be called for. I catnapped for about an hour, before having several cups of coffee as we rolled through Louisiana. A quick spin across the radio dial told that this was real “bible belt” territory. It was also a great place to be if you liked Cajun cooking and the local seafood, as advertised by countless fast food stores and restaurants (my favourite was a sign outside a fast food store which said “Fresh Fried Shrimp - $3.98 a pound, food-stamps accepted”). We arrived in Lafayette just over two hours late and as I got off the train to stretch my legs a blast of heat hit me. The general consensus was that it was around 90f and boy, was it warm. The stop was a brief one, just three minutes, aimed mainly at the nicotine brigade, who were warned that the next break would not be until we reached Beaumont, more than three hours down the line. I wandered through the train to see if coach was any busier (as Jose in the snack bar had promised it would be) but the answer was a disappointing “no” – it was hardly busier than before NOL, although the sleepers were still fully occupied.
Dinner on the second evening found me back in the company of Gordon and Bill from breakfast and Pat, an Arnold Palmer look-alike who (appropriately) was heading to California to play golf. The menu was the same as the previous day, save for one of the entrees and desserts which had been substituted by something else. Three of us had the lamb (which had replaced the pork) whilst Gordon had the chicken. Again, the food was superb, the wine helped to wash it down, and the meal stretched long into the evening, the conversation going on long after we had finished the food. Nobody wanted to rush us or move us out – indeed, the assistant, Mike, even came along and asked if we wanted more drinks. The answer was a definite “yes” as the conversation swung back and forth through topics as diverse as the future of Amtrak, the British General Election (which was only three days away) and the future of the BBC licence fee and its sports coverage. Bill (the USAF Colonel) had been based in Britain several times during his career and had been enthralled with the BBC coverage of the 2004 Olympics, especially the opening and closing ceremonies. “Three and a half hours each, without a commercial beak – it was awesome!” (Younger readers may be unaware that although we have advertising on the commercial, satellite and cable channels, there are still no commercials on the BBC. If you own a television in the UK, you have to buy an annual permit which costs about $240. This money funds the BBC. You still have to have a permit even if you only ever watch the commercial or satellite channels, and many of the BBC’s opponents have called for the system to be changed). Bill was also full of praise for the BBC commentator on the Olympic ceremony: “Just one guy did the whole thing! And he didn’t drone on, he only talked when he needed to! This guy was a giant among Sportcasters!” Throughout their history the BBC has indeed produced a line of commentating legends who have had careers of 30, 40 or even 50 years, some commentating into their eighties and still at the top of their game. Pat and Gordon were full of admiration, and wished that they could have something like that in America. (Just for the record, the commentator Bill was referring to has been commentating for a mere 42 years. His name is Barry Davies and The Queen awarded him the MBE in the New Year Honours list for services to sports broadcasting).
It was a thoroughly enjoyable evening, and what long distance train travel should be all about, and as I wasn’t wearing a watch it was only when I got back to my sleeper that I realised that dinner had lasted over four hours.
Although approaching Z-z-z-z-ville I was still hoping to stay awake long enough to see something (even at night) of Houston. We had made up some time and arrived about 90 minutes late. Sharon was in her usual flustered state on the platform, as she was due to have three leavers and two joiners at Houston. It’s obvious when you think about it, but when there are no spare sleepers she has to tidy up the rooms of those leaving and make sure everything is clean and tidy immediately as they leave and has to have everything set up before the joining passengers can move in. I could understand why she didn’t like the SL as she never got more than a few hours sleep at a time, as there were invariably people leaving and joining at Mobile or Biloxi on the first night, San Antonio on the second, and Tucson on the third (although due at Tucson at 11.59pm, being the Sunset, of course, it frequently didn’t arrive until 3 or 4 in the morning). I strolled a few yards down the platform past the waiting room, looked to my right, and looked in astonishment at the Houston skyline. I tell you, folks, it is a truly wonderful sight, with countless skyscrapers all lit up. It compares with looking down on the Chicago business district from Sears Tower. It was a warm, balmy evening, and I felt like a long stroll, but that clearly wouldn’t be possible. It was strange to think that I had been on a train for nearly 36 hours and we weren’t even half way through the journey. The jogger ran past me at this point, again in his running kit and again wearing his walkman. I couldn’t help thinking, what would happen if he didn’t hear the “all aboard” call because he had his music on? I had visions of him pounding down the track in hot pursuit of the train, like the man at Orlando….and probably overtaking us as we waited for a freight to get out of the way!
Although running late, we still waited in Houston for over half an hour and pulled out at just before 11.15. It was time to turn in. It had been a very smooth ride so far, I had no trouble sleeping, and when I next opened my eyes it was exactly 4.00am. I hauled myself up from my bed to see that we were sitting in San Antonio station. With a departure time of 5.40 that meant I had 100 minutes to take that long stroll, possibly get as far as The Alamo or do any number of things……
But it was not to be. As soon as I turned over and lay back on my bed it was clear that I had arrived at Z-z-z-z-z-ville Central, and all thoughts of exploration disappeared into the wide blue yonder.
Next week: Part 3 and astonishingly we're set for an on-time arrival in LA....will we make it?
Posts: 395 | From: england | Registered: Sep 2002
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Mr Williams, while you were in Houston, you should have spent $2 on a pint of Blue Bell ice cream. There is a vending machine in the station. I should have recommended that before now... Shame on me....
Excellent story so far!
Posts: 1418 | From: Houston, Republic of Texas | Registered: Jan 2001
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Mr. Williams you have provided an entertaining evening for me. Thank you! I am soooo much looking forward to Part 3. Hopefully within the next couple of years I will be visiting your country via the Queen Mary 2. In the meantime I am getting a very serious "itch" to take a long distance trip on Amtrak.
Posts: 498 | From: New Hope, PA, USA | Registered: Jan 2003
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Thankyou Mr Williams for your intriguing travelogue. The Sunset is a train I have yet to enjoy/endure, depending on ones point of view. As a side note the ABC in Australia also does not have commercial breaks & Australia abolished its television licence system in 1972. Mike in Australia.
Posts: 60 | From: Ballan, Victoria, Australia | Registered: Oct 2001
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Thanks for the interesting and enjoyable trip report. I hope to be taking the Sunset Limited from Winter Park next winter, and making a few stops.
Posts: 2642 | From: upstate New York | Registered: Mar 2004
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Excellent story so far. Like those unnervingly clone-like bands of Peruvian folk musicians who inhabit downtown street corners in every major American and European city, the platform jogger seems to be a recurring Amtrak character. I've encountered him (or someone exactly like him) during many train journeys.
Then again, my most Twilight Zone-ish encounter was with a self-described "long distance bike enthusiast" I met during my most epic Amtrak trip to date. During the course of four weeks, I traveled 10,000 miles on ten different trains. The "bike enthusiast" (who claimed his titanium bicycle was in the baggage car) mysteriously turned up on nine of them.
Posts: 793 | Registered: Mar 2002
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I was in that “half-awake, half-asleep” mode when I felt the jolt that pulled us out of San Antonio. It was an exact 5.40 departure and it was just getting light, but something in the back of my brain said “there’s something not right here”. It took a few seconds whilst the sleep cleared but when it did I realised that the clock was not showing 5.40 but 6.40, and we were pulling out exactly 1 hour late. I reached for my watch to make sure of the time. So why was it still dark at that time of the morning? The answer, of course, is that we were still on Central Time as we had been for the past 900 miles. As you are no doubt aware, as you go west you get darker mornings and lighter evenings (4 minutes for every degree of longitude) so it was only now just getting light. Considering how far south we were and we still had 400 miles until the next clock change they must really have some long summer evenings in West Texas. But that didn’t explain (and I never found out) why we left an hour late. The Texas Eagle hadn’t suffered a calamitous delay and we had been at the station before 4.00am so I can only presume freight delays caused it.
The first thing I noticed as I strolled into breakfast was two new faces among the dining-car staff that had joined us from the Texas Eagle. However, they stayed at the Eagle end of the diner whilst the Sunset sleeper passengers were seated at the top end. I only had two breakfast colleagues, the appropriately named Antonio from San Antonio and his wife Velda. They were travelling to Maricopa (yes, somebody actually goes there) where they were being collected by their daughter who lives near Phoenix. He was a very sprightly 79 year old retired electrical engineer who devoted much of his time to “The San Antonio Ragtime Appreciation Society”. We reached Del Rio just under an hour late and the nicotine brigade was told “three minutes only”. After a quick stretch of the legs I got back on at the far end of the train to see what the Eagle portion was like. The sleeper only had one empty roomette and the through coach was 75-80% full. But the Sunset coaches still hadn’t got above 40-50% even though we were told that far more coach passengers than normal had joined at San Antonio.
The scenery was now very different; “Southfork” look-alike ranches popped up every few miles whilst from on high we were watched by Texas Eagles of the feathered variety and two F-16s from Laughlin air force base. The “Trails and Rails” service was providing a narrative in the Lounge Car but I was feeling weary so passed on that one, preferring to doze in my armchair. It was cloudy and overcast outside, and our progress was stop/start, stop/start every few minutes. The Conductor announced that the delays were being caused by an endangered species of rattlesnake setting off sensors on the track, and we had to slow down to let them get clear. I wished I could have believed him, as a rattlesnake is one of the few things left on my list of things to see in the wild in America (I saw a bear in the Sierra Nevada on just my 4th ever day in the US).
Lunch was with Pat and Gordon. Pat (the Arnold Palmer look-alike) was not in the happiest of moods as at breakfast he had been in the company of somebody who had done nothing but complain incessantly about Amtrak, its service, its standards, on and on and on. “If I hadn’t been raised as a Southern Gentleman, I would have said ‘Lady, if you don’t like it, then why don’t you just….’” We got the picture. The dining-car manager announced that for the only time on the journey there would be sittings for dinner at 5.00, 6.30 and 8.15. We all went for the middle one. The skies had cleared by the time we put our watches back for the first time in almost thirty hours as we left Alpine to start an uninterrupted run of nearly four hours to El Paso. I wasn’t the only person to comment on the fact that I don’t remember seeing a freight train at all that afternoon, but as we rolled across the West Texas desert my eye caught sight of something which, although strangely familiar, I just couldn’t recognise. What on earth was it? At first I thought it was a plant as it was about two feet tall, blue-green, and easily blended in among the cactus and scrub. But no, it definitely had a face….and with the most stupid expression…..what the hell was it? And then it dawned on me….as the train thundered past it took off on a pair of the most gangly, ungainly legs you will ever see – no, it wasn’t Sharon, it was a real life Roadrunner!! I only saw it for a few seconds but it was one of the highlights of the trip. In my mind’s eye I had visions of the Roadrunner zooming past us, legs going like an egg-whisk, being chased by the Coyote on an Acme Rocket-sledge, followed by the jogger with his walkman and bringing up the rear the man from Orlando with his suitcase…….boy, had I been on that train too long……
We made up time during the afternoon and were only 20 minutes late into El Paso. It was a lovely sunny afternoon, not as hot as Layfayette had been 24 hours earlier but still enjoyable. The smokers were in their usual cluster as the jogger came up the platform. “Oh, he made it!” I exclaimed. I explained that he hadn’t got back on at New Orleans, but had run all the way to see if he could catch up with us…the group laughed, but there’s always one, isn’t there…..”You mean he’s run all the way from New Orleans!!!!.....that’s incredible!!!!” Her husband winced in embarrassment as everybody else chuckled. It just didn’t click with her, she really thought this man ran run nearly 1,200 miles since yesterday morning and in the end her husband had to take her to one side to explain as the more her friends laughed, the more confused she got, and the more her friends laughed … I decided to beat a hasty retreat as much as anything because there was something I hadn’t done for two days and was determined to do whilst we were sitting in the station, and that was to have a shave! I am not an electric razor fan and whilst showering is possible at 70mph, wet shaving is most definitely not recommended.
We pulled out of El Paso exactly on time, and what before we started had been an unlikely, if not impossible, prospect of arriving in LA on time was now not out of the question. We went no more than 100 yards before Jose came on the PA with an urgent call for the Conductor to come to the snack-bar. 200 years later we slammed to a stop. After nearly 30 minutes there was an announcement apologising for the delay, but there had been a slight medical emergency. A woman had felt faint and had nearly collapsed. I couldn’t see from my sleeper, but apparently a fire engine (not an ambulance) had been called, again for the obvious reason that the fire-brigade could get a casualty off the train and track far easier than an ambulance. Fortunately, it wasn’t needed. Ken, the eye-surgeon, had been in the sightseer lounge at the time. He had examined the woman, pronounced it as nothing serious and said she was fit to continue her journey.
And so to our final dinner. We had become quite a group over the past two days, my bright red “England” shirt being both a beacon and catalyst for conversation. Sharon told me that somebody had come up to her and asked “who’s that English guy – he knows everybody on the train!” I was joined by Bill, Jackie (a sleeper passenger that I had chatted to on the platform), and Charles, a coach passenger who was doing a 15 day USA/Canada rail trip which included 11 nights out of 15 on the train in coach. Rather him than me. The table opposite consisted of Antonio & Velda, Gordon and Ken, fresh from his medical duties. Pat was clearly disappointed that he turned up 30 seconds too late to join us and filled up a table with some of the smokers, although he moved to the empty seat after Charles departed early. I was surprised that we passed within a few yards of the Mexican border, but the fence was no more than four feet high, and a group of Mexican children from the settlement just the other side could be seen waving to the train and they were clearly on the US side of the border. I thought the fence would be ten to fifteen feet with barbed wire, and this was not what I was expecting at all.
It was a different menu tonight, so I went for the Chicken Casserole in white wine and being the last night I allowed myself the strawberry tart instead of the fresh fruit salad. We had drunk them out of Cabernet Sauvignon the night before but they still had some suitable half-bottles in both red and white.
Jackie had worked for NASA for over 30 years, but had been laid off in the late 90s and had struggled to find suitable employment since. We all nodded in sympathy (in my home city there is virtually no unemployment, and finding work is easy, but finding well-paid white collar work is another matter as so many firms have cut back on hiring and only promote from within). The obvious question you ask somebody from NASA is “did you meet any astronauts”. She had met plenty over the years, but unlike the early years most astronauts these days are anonymous to the public at large. She had, however, met some of the “greats”, including Scott Carpenter (her favourite), Jim “Houston, we have a problem” Lovell and the first American in space, Alan Shepherd. Bill was impressed but could add something of his own – he had met Chuck Yeager, the first man to break the sound barrier, when he came to give a talk at his Air Force base. Ken was next – although he had never met the astronaut himself he had performed cataract operations on both the parents of Apollo astronaut Walt Cunningham! This was astonishing as well as entertaining, but Antonio, who had been listening quietly, was about to trump everybody. He pulled out a small, battered photograph showing several rows on men in white coats and a man in a suit sitting in the middle of the front row. “This is me in the back row; this photo was taken when I worked at the Marshall Space Centre in Huntsville, Alabama in the 1960’s. The man in the suit is Werner von Braun.” We gasped in amazement….Werner von Braun…the head of the Apollo programme. “er…did you meet any of the astronauts?”. Only once, he said. After nearly 40 years he still got choked up remembering the only time he had ever shaken the hand of an astronaut. You would see them around the centre all the time, but thousands of people worked there, he was only a very small cog in the machine in a remote part of the complex. Everybody was busy and nobody would dream of “bothering” an astronaut for an autograph or just to make small-talk. But he would take to his grave the memory of that day in 1966 when he was working at his desk and he became aware that his supervisor was showing a couple of people around. He didn’t pay much attention, people were in and out all the time, but he heard his supervisor say “Antonio, there’s a couple of guys who want to say hello to you”. He glanced up and saw a hand being stretched out towards him. It was only when he stood up and shook the outstretched hand that he realised who the visitors were. It was Gus Grissom and Ed White. It was just a few months before they were killed in the Apollo disaster when their capsule caught fire and exploded on the launch pad. He thought Grissom was a “lovely, lovely man” and from the tears that were forming in his eyes, you could see why it was such a bitter-sweet memory.
The silence around the table was electrifying. I swear to you that none of this is made up. What are the chances of finding, in a random group of unconnected people in a dining-car on a train, somebody who had met the Head of the Apollo programme, the first American in space, the first American to break the sound barrier, the first American to walk in space (Ed White) and Gus Grissom who, apart from being the second American in space and the first American to go into space twice, would probably have been the first man on the moon had he lived. It was an astonishing evening. As happened the previous night, the drinks were refuelled and the dining-car staff made no attempt to move us on as the conversation ran long into the evening. Antonio and Velda had to retire early – they were getting off in the early hours of the morning and wanted some sleep as they had had a long day – but “early” meant 10 o clock.
Eventually, Gordon, Bill, Ken & I went down to the snack-bar for a night-cap and to say goodbye to Jose. Apart from the stop outside El Paso we had sat in Lordsburg for over half an hour (at least, Bill told me we had – I had been too wrapped up in the conversation to notice) but this meant that we arrived in Benson some 70 minutes late as we put our watches back for the second time in eight hours (why doesn’t Arizona have Daylight Saving Time?). It was just on midnight as I got back to my room and put my clock back an hour, dinner having started at 6.30.
The final morning and I half-awoke to voices outside. We were in Yuma and were running 41 minutes late. A realisation that I had an urgent need for the bathroom woke me up far more than anticipated and so as I was now awake I fetched some juice and coffee and did some maths. We were 251 miles from our destination and we had 5 hours and 10 minutes to achieve an on-time arrival. There is considerable padding in the westbound schedule but the eastbound timetable shows LA – Yuma as 4 hours 54 minutes. Therefore, there was little to spare but it could still be done, and I could have the distinction of having been on the Sunset Ltd the day it got to LA on time…..we pulled about a mile out of Yuma station and stopped for 45 minutes.
Breakfast was being served from 6.00 – 8.00 and I was in fairly early. The dining-car was quiet and I started with a table to myself before being joined by Jackie, Bill and Gordon over the next twenty minutes or so. Breakfast over and it was goodbye to the dining-car attendant Mike (I had left a tip with every meal but I gave him an extra $10 as he had done a good job of looking after me). Bill had a copy of “National Geographic” with him, as apparently we were going to be right on top of the exact route of the San Andreas Fault for about the next 40 miles. Thanks, Bill, that’s very comforting! We really were rattling along and had made up some time since the delay outside Yuma, but sadly for the smokers Palm Springs was only a three-minute stop. I never realised that Palm Springs was a giant wind-farm and considering I saw little urban development can only assume that the station isn’t well placed for the centre of town.
106 miles to go and 100 minutes to do it, and we really were going a good clip. Even if we missed the on-time arrival, there was no danger of my missing the 12.30 Surfliner, and Gordon was hoping that he might make an earlier than intended connection to San Diego as he was now odds-on favourite to make it for the 11.00am. Road signs were starting to countdown the miles to Los Angeles…98….84….76…..65…..54…we hadn’t even slowed down once since we left Palm Springs. It was time to start packing my stuff and make sure nothing had been left behind, although I left the gallon of water in the jacket closet (well, it was unopened and the use by date is October 2005, so it will probably come in useful before then!).
We had covered approximately 2,710 miles, there were just 54 to go, and we were more or less on time, so how come we arrived in Los Angeles 3 hours and 38 minutes late? I was wondering how to break it to you, as you were probably all willing me on, but I thought I’d put you out of your misery now as at this point the wheels start coming off. They were almost literally coming off, but not our wheels, those of the freight train in front of us. We stopped for the first time since Palm Springs about 10 miles from Ontario, and couldn’t really complain given the run we had had. However, a 10 minute delay became 20, then 30, then the Conductor came on to announce that the freight train ahead of us had stopped because their sensors had shown problems with the wheel bearings, and were having to be checked. 40 minutes, 50, one hour, and the next announcement is that the freight has a serious problem, and they have had to call out an inspector/engineer. 70 minutes, 80, 90, 100, 110 minutes and the good news is that the freight train is fixed, and we will soon be on our way. We went about five miles, then stopped again. The crew of the freight train had “timed out”, as they had done their allotted shift and couldn’t do any more (can somebody explain, is this a contractual/Union regulation, or is it Health & Safety that they can only do so many hours no matter what? If it’s the latter, I can understand why they have it, but if your flight is running late can you imagine the Pilot coming on the intercom and saying “sorry folks, time’s up, I can’t fly the plane any more!”) so we would have to wait for the replacement crew to come from LA as the original crew had gone off and left the freight train blocking the track ahead of us (ok, possibly this was unavoidable but we were on double track line and had been since the hold-up started).
Jose, who had announced that the snack-bar would close at Ontario, came on to say that it was still open and would remain so until we reached Ontario, whenever that would be. This second hold up was another 60 minutes but to give Amtrak their due they kept us informed throughout. I did, however, start to wonder just how long we would be stuck and if I might need that bottle of water after all. A few of us had gathered around the coffee machine, passing the time. Gordon was not going to get either of his intended connections and I was highly unlikely to make mine. We eventually got going again but the next announcement sent Sharon’s state of fluster to DEFCON 1. All passengers connecting to the Bakersfield bus, the San Joaquins or connecting with the Coast Starlight at Sacramento would be bussed from Ontario to Bakersfield, so get you stuff ready as we’re arriving in Ontario NOW! She didn’t have her manifest to hand, so she flew up the sleeper car, knocking on every door, frantically trying to remember who was going where, and helping to drag cases along the corridor for those passengers who were making a hurried and far from dignified exit from the train. They needn’t have hurried, as we sat in Ontario for another 30 minutes.
We made slow progress the rest of the way and I was worried that we were running so late I now wouldn’t make the 2.55pm and would have to wait for over four hours for the 7.00pm to SBA. Eventually the tracks came into sight, and we pulled in at 2.48pm, 3hours and 38 minutes late, and leaving me with 7 minutes to make my connection. There were a few hurried handshakes on the platform, a $20 tip for Sharon (not a lot for three nights, perhaps, but I hadn’t used her as a “gopher” once, and all she had done was put the beds up and down so I thought it not an unreasonable amount), and now where’s that Surfliner? Like the people at Ontario, I needn’t have worried, as it was showing as 24 minutes late. That meant there was time for a large Gin and Tonic in the bar, and as the board changed to 43 minutes late, time for a second one.
Next week: Part 4 - The Epilogue: mr williams in wet and windy Santa Barbara, the Pacific Surfliner and my thoughts on a remarkable three day journey
Posts: 395 | From: england | Registered: Sep 2002
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Thank you, Mr. Williams. I enjoyed your part 3 report. Needless to say I am looking forward to part 4. Very entertaining.
Posts: 498 | From: New Hope, PA, USA | Registered: Jan 2003
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Oh, wait. YOU rode it, I just followed along. It felt like I was riding right there with you, so I got confused. Posts: 2649 | From: California's Monterey Peninsula | Registered: Dec 2000
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And before anybody picks me up on it, we did of course arrive FOUR hours 38 late (not 3 - I had Gordon's 11.00am, departure on my mind!)
Posts: 395 | From: england | Registered: Sep 2002
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Thankyou Mr Williams, for your rivetting travelogue. Your report was very interesting and the interaction you enjoyed with the other passengers was particularly fascinating. Nobody is ever going to read such an interesting travel story by travelling 'cattle class' in a tube above the clouds. Bravo Mr Williams, bring on Part 4. Mike in Australia. Posts: 60 | From: Ballan, Victoria, Australia | Registered: Oct 2001
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Thanks so much for the delightful report, Mr Williams. I'll be taking the Sunset Limited as far as Tucson next winter, and I'm really looking forward to it. How lucky that you saw a roadrunner, I will be on the lookout for that and other animals!
Posts: 2642 | From: upstate New York | Registered: Mar 2004
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Dont mean to rush you but its been nearly a week since posting part 3.
Posts: 113 | From: San Antonio, Texas,USA | Registered: Aug 2003
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I've really enjoyed this so far, Mr. Williams, and am especially looking forward to your reporting of the Surfliner and your time in Santa Barbara! I wish I'd known you were headed here as I would have been very glad to offer advice and suggestions.
Frank in cool, cloudy SBA
Posts: 2160 | From: Santa Barbara, CA, USA | Registered: Oct 2003
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A wonderful read Mr. Williams! I too felt as if I was along for the ride, thankfully in a deluxe room. I hope you keep all your journals on the family bookshelf (hard copy) for your later generations to read. If you get out to El Paso again, maybe we can rustle up a rattler and find some more roadrunners for you. Finding rattlesnakes is more likely on foot, though I'd agree that they are best viewed from the comfort of the train.
Posts: 72 | From: USA | Registered: Mar 2004
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Wonderful trip report, Mr. Williams! Thanks for sharing with us. I've taken a few train rides in England/Scotland, and enjoyed them thoroughly. Beautiful country!
Posts: 171 | Registered: May 2002
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Apologies for the late arrival of the final installment - a stomach bug knocked me flat at the weekend - it should be with you by Sunday
Posts: 395 | From: england | Registered: Sep 2002
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The second large Gin and Tonic was not a good idea. I hadn’t realised that it was nearly nine hours since breakfast, I hadn’t had any lunch so I was effectively drinking on a empty stomach. As I wandered back towards the platform I ran into Gordon for the final time. He had hoped to catch the 11.00am to San Diego but would now be on the 4.10pm. I got on the train and made myself comfortable in business class only to find, as the train pulled out just under an hour late, that I was facing backwards and not on the coastal side of the train. I was perplexed for a moment but the explanation was simple – on every previous occasion I’ve taken the Surfliner the engine has been at the front of the train heading south between SLO & LA but this time it was leading as we went north. I had wandered onto the platform, seen the engine and assumed it to be the back of the train when it was the front.
A trip to the snack-bar was called for to mop up the Gin and I installed myself in my changed seat, complete with coffee and sandwich, to read the newspaper as we rolled through the LA suburbs. I realised I hadn’t seen a newspaper since we left Florida and it suddenly occurred to me that on my previous trips there had been newspapers on the CZ and SWC for sleeper passengers, but none on the Sunset. Have they been axed? At one suburban stop we had to reverse back out of the station into a siding to let a freight train pass. As we pulled away a woman standing on the platform waiting for a southbound train just looked in horror, mouth wide open, as she thought she had missed her train but at least she didn’t try chasing after us. It was stop-start-stop-start but we eventually reached Santa Barbara just before 7.00pm, some 90 minutes late. I was one of about 80 that got off, less than that got on, but I wondered how many had made other arrangements as we were so late.
I love Santa Barbara. If I ever win the lottery this is where you’re likely to find me. The original plan should have seen me arrive at 3.00 pm which would have left time for a wander around the shops of State Street and the magnificent harbour before dinner but that was now out of the window. My hotel was only a few minutes walk from the station and I just dumped my bags and headed for my favourite restaurant, the “Moby Dick” on Stearn’s Wharf, for dinner, a magnificent sole stuffed with crab and prawns. It was grey and overcast and although it stayed dry my plan to have a stroll around a few of the local watering holes was superseded by the realisation that I hadn’t had a huge amount of sleep since I had arrived in America, I had been up at about five every morning and it was time for a much needed early night.
For the second time in five days I awoke to the sound of torrential rain battering against the window. This was Santa Barbara in May, for heaven’s sake!! On every previous visit blue sky and sunshine had been the order of the day but this was British weather at its best. The rain stopped and after the healthiest breakfast of the week (cereal, juice and a banana!) I strolled around to the station to buy my ticket for the morning Surfliner to Grover Beach but my walk up State Street turned out to be a waste of time as most of the shops didn’t open until 9.30 or 10.00. On the way back I was accosted by a vagrant who claimed to know me and, as an old friend, could I lend him a few bucks (why have I been approached by more beggars on the streets of Santa Barbara than everywhere else in America put together?), and arrived back at the station just in time to see the on-time southbound Surfliner from San Luis Obispo. At least 80 people got off and the same number got on and I could see that it was at least 80-90% full. It was grey, gloomy and miserable as I checked out of the hotel and as I approached the station for the second time in just under an hour the heavens opened.
For those of you unfamiliar with the Surfliners there are about eleven each way a day between San Diego and LA. Five of them continue up the coast to Santa Barbara and two of the five go all the way to San Luis Obispo. The second train to SLO only started up towards the end of last year, leaving LA at 7.30 am and returning from SLO in the early afternoon.
The train pulled in just three minutes late but unlike its southbound counterpart this was not a busy train. I counted just eight off and six on. This was the first time I had travelled on this type of consist (proper engine at both ends, baggage car and just four single level passenger coaches, one of them being the combined snack-bar and business class, although there were only 14 business class seats in all). I counted just 16 passengers in coach and four in business, and the Steward in business class hardly had to strain himself when it came to handing out newspapers, juice and Danish pastries. Two more joined us in business class at Goleta. I asked him why it was so quiet, and was this a typical loading? He said that although today was particularly quiet, the train hadn’t been a great success, and there are already doubts about its long-term future if things don’t pick up. It was unfortunate that not long after the service had started the floods had shut the line for over six weeks. Also, the train schedule seemed to please nobody: northbound it was too late for potential commuters going to Santa Barbara, there was no great demand for a local morning service between SBA and SLO, and he felt that not enough had been done to publicise the Amtrak thruway bus which connected both ways at SLO for both the Caltrain and Capital Corridors at San Jose (I recall that when this train was first suggested it was talked of as being the basis of a possible “Coast Daylight” service between LA and SFO. By connecting with the Thruway link between SLO & SJC, it is now possible to get from LA to SFO in the daytime in around 10 and a half hours). Southbound, loadings had been better, but the return schedule was, depending on your final destination, both too early or too late for leisure travellers and too early for commuters! I couldn’t help thinking that whilst there is definitely enough demand for a second Surfliner to/from SLO, it would be better running this train south in the morning, leaving SLO at around 9.00 am with the return departure from LA at around 5.00 – 5.30pm (and thereby filling the current four hour gap between northbound trains). The attendant agreed it would probably be a lot better. I asked him whether Greyhound’s decision to drop a number of smaller towns from their Californian schedules had had any effect on Amtrak numbers. He was a local and knew the area well, and the answer was a disappointing “generally no” - very few people had caught the bus from those places anyway.
Outside the rain continued to hammer down and whilst we hadn’t stopped we were going at no more than about 10 mph, and this continued for more than half an hour as we travelled north of Goleta. I’ve never seen California looking so green; normally the landscape is brown and parched but this year long grass and a multitude of wild flowers had sprung up in the fields alongside the tracks. We ground to a halt just north of Lompoc, where nobody had got on or off, and even reversed for a while to let a freight train through. We were now falling badly behind schedule. Nobody got on or off at Guadaloupe either, but as we headed inland, at least the rain stopped and a patch of blue sky could be seen away to the north and west. Eventually we pulled into Grover Beach exactly 90 minutes late, much to the confusion of two Japanese tourists who were on the platform awaiting the southbound return and weren’t sure if this was their train. Six got off at Grover Beach, which is now the only public transport hub for the area as Greyhound have now withdrawn from the neighbouring township of Arroyo Grande (they dropped Pismo Beach some years ago). Considering that there is now no Greyhound service for a catchment area of more than 50,000 people I wonder if Amtrak would look at the possibility of stopping the Coast Starlight at Grover? I’m sure that long distance trains stop at smaller places than that.
But the rain had stopped, the sun had come out and my journey was at an end. I had stepped onto the Sunset Ltd almost 3,000 miles and 95 hours ago and it had flown by. Now it only remained to catch the local bus the last mile up to my hotel in Pismo and sample the delights of Harry’s Bar and the Splash Café.
How was it? Brilliant. I know some of you will disagree but I would put the Sunset Ltd on a par with the Zephyr. OK, so you don’t have the scenery of the Rockies but the alligators, vultures, the Roadrunner, the Huey Long Bridge and the Houston skyline all stood out. Perhaps I was lucky in finding so many good travelling companions and a good train crew, but the thing that really, really made the difference was having a deluxe sleeper. I’m not a small person and the exercise in wriggling that is otherwise known as trying to undress in a standard sleeper with the beds up was not missed, notwithstanding the extra convenience of more room and en-suite facilities.
However, I must criticise Amtrak on its sleeper provision and pricing. This train is supposed to lose $300 plus per passenger plus trip. I’m not surprised. Fair enough you don’t run empty sleepers in February, but this was the first week in May. Amtrak could easily have filled a second sleeper with premium paying customers, not just those who had been bumped out of deluxe into standard but those coach passengers who couldn’t get a sleeper at all. And why are the sleepers on this route so cheap? Yes, they are on a “sliding scale” where the cost goes up as they fill up but the MINIMUM sleeper supplement for shoulder season CHI-EMY or LAX on the CZ or SWC is around $375 standard and a whopping $760 (SWC) and $870 (CZ) deluxe. On the SL when I booked it was $212 standard and just $398 for my deluxe and that, remember, is for three nights, not two. OK, so there’s a mark up and therefore built-in profit on the restaurant prices I know, but my food bill alone was over $160. If there had been two of me in a standard, Amtrak would have made a LOSS of over $100 on the sleeper supplement and would only just have made any extra on the deluxe. And whilst I was pleased to see that there were people using the train for relatively “local” travel eg within Florida, NOL-HOU, San Antonio-Maricopa etc, there’s no getting away from the fact that almost all the passengers going coast-to-coast could be described as “leisure travellers” with relatively full wallets. Whilst Amtrak must not price themselves out of the market and most definitely shouldn’t go down the route of providing “land cruises”, I cannot help thinking that they are not maximising the earnings potential of this train, which they must do if it is to survive.
And can you please explain to me why the morning northbound Surfliner needs a business class Steward to look after a maximum of 14 people? We can collect our own newspaper and carton of juice from twenty feet away, thank you.
Yes, there were some lengthy delays and it was unfortunate that we fell so badly off schedule right at the end and although there is little they can do about it, Amtrak’s advocates really must put pressure on the freight companies to keep delays to a minimum. But it would be churlish to focus on a few minor negatives and detract from what was a fantastic trip. The only question left in my mind now is “where next”? Well, that will depend on Amtrak’s future and we’ll have to wait and see what is still available in 2006 or 2007, but I’ve never done any of the eastern routes, so the Cardinal might be a possibility. Of the western routes, the Empire Builder is high on the list, possibly combined with the Coast Starlight via Portland.
And there you have it. I started last September by asking if I was brave, foolish or just plain mad but the answer is a very definite “I’m glad I did it”. It’s amazing how you can look forward to something for so many months and the next thing you know it’s been and gone, and consigned to the photo album. It’s a baking hot day here in England, the temperature is in the 80’s and at this time of year it doesn’t get dark until after 10.00 pm so I’m off to enjoy the outdoors. It only remains for me to thank all those members who answered my questions in helping me to plan this trip and those of you who read my report. I hope you enjoyed it and until the next time, this is mr williams signing off.
Posts: 395 | From: england | Registered: Sep 2002
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Mr. Williams, thank you. So glad to read that you're glad you did it. I sincerely hope that our national rail system will still be in place when you visit our rails again. Unfortunately, America is being made to believe that cutting Amtrak's long distance rail system is the solution to the so called money draining system. I hope it never happens.
Posts: 498 | From: New Hope, PA, USA | Registered: Jan 2003
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Mr. Williams thanks for your terrific detailed story----I loved it! I've ridden the Sunset Limited many times from Palatka, FL to LA and back at many different times of the year and thoroughly enjoyed it! Your detailed story brought it all back---great! Many Thanks! When are you going again?
Posts: 287 | From: Palatka, FL, USA | Registered: Feb 2004
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Your Sunset journey seemed mostly trouble free which was certainly good news. I too have been on this route from California to Florida, and although the train was over ten hours late I had a chance to view some of Amtrak's most interesting scenery. Come this December I am booked in a deluxe bedroom from New Orleans to Ontario Calif. I agree that the deluxe is the best way to go, and I hope the Sunset will reach its destination as (almost) trouble free as yours. Thank you Mr. Williams for a great trip report.
Posts: 524 | From: Toronto Ont. Canada | Registered: Mar 2001
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Mr. Williams Great report. Made me want to ride it. Just found and joined these boards today, I've liked what I've read so far. (Currently working on an unimpresive trip log from today's trip: Albany for Lunch.)
-------------------- Visit my trains and subways website: www.subwaynut.com (It has more then just subways!) Posts: 38 | From: Manhattan, NY/Colorado Springs, CO | Registered: Jun 2005
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Subwaynut,you're link doesn't work for me. Message is...error,can't be found. Glad to see a fellow New Yorker on this forum. Welcome.
Posts: 498 | From: New Hope, PA, USA | Registered: Jan 2003
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well my website is subwaynut.com. It should be working now.
-------------------- Visit my trains and subways website: www.subwaynut.com (It has more then just subways!) Posts: 38 | From: Manhattan, NY/Colorado Springs, CO | Registered: Jun 2005
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We've just returned from a circumnaviagation of the country, including a segment on the Sunset Ltd.. We'll post our experiences BOS/PHL/NOL/***/OXN/SEA/CHI/BOS in the coming days(more about *** when we post). Suffice it to say we "challenged" the Sunset Ltd. and we were thoroughly thrashed. At the moment I can't think of one redeeming experience between NOL and ***. Yes, thinking about it there was ONE pleasant experience...Alice Wong our server in the diner. Alice weighs all of eighty pounds soaking wet with all her clothes on and every pound is full of robust energy and wit. Alice does not suffer fools nor her coworkers who don't pull their weight kindly. But aside from that the SL is definately off limits for this Amtrak fan and his bride of 41 years.
Posts: 83 | From: MERRIMAC,MA | Registered: Feb 2005
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It looks to me like the fares on the SL have gone up, Mr. Williams, at least on the dates early next year I checked. Thanks for your writing; makes me think of trying it again. I was on #1 last Nov and did get bussed from Houston to San Antonio because of flooding. A nuisance but I survived.
Posts: 326 | From: San Antonio Texas USA | Registered: Dec 2003
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I checked the 26-Jan Dep out of Miami, just for fun (not planning to take it anytime soon.) I find this funny: Rail Fare: $132.00 Rommette: $397.00 Family Room: $374.00
Book the family bedroom to for yourself? To save?
This seems to be the current fare for January.
-------------------- Visit my trains and subways website: www.subwaynut.com (It has more then just subways!) Posts: 38 | From: Manhattan, NY/Colorado Springs, CO | Registered: Jun 2005
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Thank you all for your kind comments, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Something I was asked in an e-mail was "did your sleeper still have a State name on it?" yes - 'New Mexico'.
Now Amtrak have their funding for another year I'm starting to plan next year's trip, and this really will be a big one. Washington - Chicago on the Capitol, then Chicago - San Luis Obispo on the Empire Builder and the Coast Starlight via Portland!
Posts: 395 | From: england | Registered: Sep 2002
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SubwayNut It's a pleasure to see another fellow-New Yorker. I was born in Brooklyn and now live in Florida. Your website is great! Very good to look at! As much as I love the subways---a ride on the Sunst Limited beats any subway ride!
Posts: 287 | From: Palatka, FL, USA | Registered: Feb 2004
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