Thoughts on Travel, Part III
Posted by: Archimedes on Oct 05, 2008 - 03:27 AM
archies_thoughts
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Somewhere near Provo, Utah
So night falls on the California Zephyr as the train winds its way up into and back down out of the mountains. The last stop we made was a small town called “Helper”, so named because the upcoming trail for those trains that were westward bound often needed an assist from a “helper” locomotive to push the train up through the switchbacks up the mountain and down the other side. Given how infrequently I've had cell phone coverage, I can only assume that the terrain must have been REALLY rugged. I've traveled pretty much from one side of this country to the other now and the only instances when I've lost signal were in those places where the terrain was particularly harsh and unfriendly to both populated areas and to cellular providers such that they couldn't put up towers.
I can feel the cars sway and bounce, feel the train slow to a crawl as it climbs its way up through the mountains zigzagging back and forth over the switchbacks and then feel it crest the mountain and the bouncing and rocking become more pronounced as the car rockets back down the other side as the brakes screech in protest and we are jostled within our seats barely able to bring our coffees to our lips.
I'm downstairs in the lounge car with only the staff member, Charmine, and an older black gentlemen, him sipping his beer and reading a book, me sipping my coffee reviewing my writing both present and from the last couple of days. Once again, the dark of night conceals the scars on this otherwise rugged, mountainous land. Only the lights of the few passing homes up here deep in the mountains breaks the denseness of the cloudy Rocky Mountain night.
I've pissed my wife off in the throes of my nicotine fit. Beautiful dinner in the dining car, but I'm far too figity to sleep...and with the smoking restrictions placed by various towns (Helper – remind me not to visit THERE again...no cell signal, no smoking...YECH!), it's still another hour or more before I'm going to have the opportunity to indulge my cravings. So I sit up here in the lounger watching the night skylines roll by as we roll closer to the last stop before my destination.
I suppose beyond the physical withdrawal symptoms I'm feeling as a result of nicotine deprival, my only regret really is that with as obviously jostled as we were, I can only imagine that the trip from Helper to Provo must have been magnificent and I missed it for the dark of night.
I completed Part II of this series and posted it and made my way back to my seat to find my wife curled up asleep across both seats. I hadn't the heart to wake her. She looked so peaceful and now as I look out over the glimmering lights of Provo that seem to stretch on into the night almost infinitely, for all of its beauty, my thoughts turn back to my wife and a smile creeps over my face as I think of her, curled up asleep. Would that I could join her, but my body wouldn't let me and as we're nearing our destination, I supposed I should probably stay awake until we reach Salt Lake so I can make sure to wake her in plenty of time so we can disembark from the train and begin yet the next chapter in this series describing our adventures.
Having been to Salt Lake before, I am pretty confident in what to expect. Its an eclectic mix of old new, gleaming and decrepit. Industrial, residential and business districts run one into another with no perceivable barrier. In some ways, one would think that it would be as sad as Chicago in that regard, but for whatever reason, it seems different, I don't know why. I can only hope that Stacey looks on it as fondly as I do. Even now, I see the outskirts of the city. If Provo is big, then Salt Lake is a monstrous, sprawling behemoth that stretches out in every direction for miles. Surrounded by lights on all sides now, I know my time on this leg of the journey is coming to a close and I know I should be wrapping up this part up and going to rouse my wife and collect our belongings. As much as I want to get OFF this train and take in some nicotine, I'm almost regretting it as it will mark my time on a train half over.
I'll say again that there is no better way to get to know this country than to travel by rail from one side to the other. Our nation will yield up her secrets to you if you do. She'll show you that which you'd ordinarily not see...all of her good sides and all of the bad sides. Her gleaming cities, her decrepit surrounding burbs, and her almost pristine, untouched wilderness...a sad and yet beautiful country filled with real people. And for a moment, maybe just for a moment, you can reach through the glass and steel in a way unlike anything offered in a plane or bus...for a moment your heart is free to reach out to the country around you. For all of her greatness, for all of her weakness, she is nothing if she is not honest. Those that lead us may not be. Those that beat their chest in their piety speaking of how their relationship with God is stronger than yours – and maybe it is – they might not be. Even we the people may not be honest, even to ourselves as that goes. But America? She's honest if you choose to view her through a medium that allows her to be. If you look at the people of this country, those that really mean it when they say they love it, it's probably because they've seen it as I have. And they know that it's not irredeemable any more than we as a people are. I think we're misguided. I think we have poor leadership that is desperately out of touch on BOTH sides of the fence, as if there should BE any fence...but as a whole we're a salvageable people.
And for all of her faults, for all of her blemishes, for all of the scars we've given her, she's still honest, and still something to be proud of...a place where, rich or poor, you can live your life as you choose. Whether that's scratching out a living in some of the most rugged lands in this country or following your trade to the city to work in the realm of technology, our life is ours to choose, at least for now and it's a testament to the strength of our character nurtured by America, all of her, the ugly, the beautiful, the scarred and the pristine. She's the mother of our prosperity and the reason for us to be proud. We need to be able to look at her with the profound sadness she is due when she reveals what the cost of our mistakes are to her and the people we leave behind in their wake. And through the same eyes, we need to be able to see here with love for all that she's offered, all that she's given and all of the GOOD things we've done for her and for one another.
I hear the whistle blowing and my destination is near, so I'll close chapter of my continuing epic of the journey of the Evil Bunneh to the Great Salt Lake and all of the beautiful lands between. Good night, all.
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