January 5, 2001
The Southwest Chief (part 1 of 3)
In Chicago, after leaving the "Lakeshore Limited" train, I changed to the
"Southwest Chief." The Chief runs from Chicago to Los Angeles, following the
old Santa Fe Trail and some parts of Route 66. I hurried up the platform to
my sleeper car... Chicago in January is pretty brutal, and due to the
limitations of my backpack, I wasn't carrying winter clothes.
The train was enormous. It looked about twice as big as any train I'd ever
seen back East. I would have stood and gawked, were I not racing to be out of
the cold.
The Superliner is a big train
A small woman in a giant Amtrak parka, the hood pulled so tight I could only
see her eyes and nose said, "hi, I'm Joan, your attendant. You're in car
0331, right over there."
car attendant helps a passenger
I placed my bag on Joan's luggage rack and collapsed into compartment 11,
closing the door and turning the temperature control up to 80. I took off my
shoes, put my feet up and turned my attention to the on-board propaganda.
"The Southwest Chief is among the finest of Amtrak's long-distance services,"
read the pamphlet. "Our historic route was first traversed by the earliest
Indians who first discovered its twists, turns and passes. Later,
conquistadors and fur trappers became familiar with the route. By the time it
was called the Santa Fe Trail, caravans of pack mules, wagon teams, prairie
schooners and stagecoaches were lumbering over it daily, carting people and
goods between the Missouri River and the Rockies."
Interesting, but not very satisfying. I referred to an older version of the
propaganda that I had downloaded from the internet.
sightseeing car
"Movies will be shown in the Sightseer Lounge car. On-board Indian country
tour guides from the Inter-Tribal Indian Ceremonial Association of Gallup,
New Mexico, will ride with the train between Albuquerque and Gallup to point
out scenic highlights. Join fellow passengers in the Lounge Car for drinks
and complimentary snacks. First Class passengers received complimentary meals
in the dining car."
Right about then the "Dining Car Steward" knocked on the window across the
hall.
"Oh, I'm sorry, lady," he announced loudly for all to hear. "You are naked."
He then chuckled at his own joke, and I heard laughter from around the car.
He knocked next on my window, to ask me when I wanted to eat dinner. I said
8:30, thinking that the dining car might be less crowded then.
dining car on the Southwest Chief
It was. There were several empty tables but I was seated with two other
single travelers. This was my first taste of the real appeal of the
long-distance Amtrak experience. It's a summer camp on wheels, where you
spend days eating and hanging out with complete strangers. In the Coach cars,
you even sleep with strangers. I peeked into one at night and beat a quick
path back to my sleeping compartment. There were people (and possessions)
spread out everywhere in the darkened car, and it was easy to fall over a
stray foot or leg. Some people even took up residency in the lounge car,
stretching across multiple seats. This was not a comfortable sleep, though,
as these squatters were evicted early in the morning when other passengers
wanted to lounge or sightsee.
My dining companions at the first meal turned out to be pleasant people. The
woman was a high school guidance counselor from Orange County, and the man
was a working actor from West Hollywood. Both of them disliked flying.
This was a common theme among nearly one hundred percent of the people I met
on the Amtrak. Almost universally, they were afraid of airplanes. The only
exception was one dimwitted fellow who believed that the cross-country Amtrak
was cheaper than flying, which it is certainly not.
the Mummy's assistant
The actor, it turned out, did occasionally have to take a plane. He had
been in "The Mummy" a few years ago (he was the Mummy's cohort and was eaten
by scarabs at the end), and had taken a plane to and from Morocco. The guidance counselor, however, hadn't taken a plane in years. She was aware of the statistics, knew that her fear of flying was irrational, and was excited to hear about the possibility of taking a boat to Australia.
We lingered for about an hour, over tasty penne pasta and good
conversation. The actor showed me a picture of himself in "Entertainment
Weekly." He'd picked it up for something to read and there he was, as the
"wacky oncologist" from "Gideon's Crossing." My dinner companions were
experienced Amtrak veterans, and were able to answer some of my questions.
-Always tip two dollars at the end of your free meal
-Tip your car attendant five-ten dollars if they're good
-You never have to share your sleeper.
The last one was a relief. I'd been eyeing the top bunk in my compartment
and wondering when someone was going to show up to claim it.
We all three left our two-dollar tips and went our separate ways. The
actor went to the lounge car for some late-night socializing and the guidance
counselor went to her compartment. I went back to car 0331 and checked out
the facilities.
sleeper car
The Southwest Chief "Superliner" doesn't have "en suite" sinks and
toilets. These are shared, and located down the hall from the sleeping
compartments. They look exactly the same as airplane toilets, and flush about
as well, leading to some occasions of breath-holding. The showers were tiny,
but very warm and clean. A drink station was located on the upper level (yes,
the Superliners are double-decker), and you can get bottled water, juice,
coffee and tea at any time.
Joan the attendant converted the padded seats in my compartment into a
bed and I turned it. I turned off all the lights and stared out the window at
the passing shapes and railroad crossings. I feel asleep to the Doppler Effect,
as the engineer blew the horn through the towns of Missouri and Kansas.
NEXT: The Southwest Chief part 2