My 2004 shot of Mount Shasta that I've been unable to top since.I went to bed just after we left Emeryville, with the San Francisco skyline receding in the distance. When I woke up, we were already in Shasta National Forest with the towering, volcanic Mount Shasta looming overhead. I first saw Mount Shasta in May of 2004 on a 11 hour late southbound Coast Starlight. We passed Shasta at about 9 AM that day, and the cafe car attendant was nice enough to open the dutch door windows to briefly allow us to take some pictures of the mountain by sticking our cameras out. That was the day I took the best picture I've ever taken (and will probably ever take). It was taken on a simple digital camera without multiple-shot capability. I did it completely blind without looking at the viewfinder, and ended up with a spectacular photograph that Amtrak eventually ended up licensing from me (you may see it from time to time in promo materials).

The best I could muster on this trip before my camera died.This was the first time I was seeing Shasta again in daylight, and I rushed to the sightseeing car to see if I could replicate my earlier photo or possibly do even better. Just as we came to the base of the mountain, my camera batteries died. I couldn't believe it. By the time I could get back to my room to reload batteries, we had passed the mountain. Guess I'll have to come out and try again.

We continued pushing north through the Cascade mountains and the scenery rivaled what we had seen the day before along the southern California Pacific coast. If you've ever traveling the California Zephyr across Donner Pass, that's very much what the scenery on the Starlight looks like as it makes its way through southern Oregon. Huge, towering pine trees—one stacked on top of another up an unimaginably steep mountainside. Valleys and chasms that are so deep and thick with pine that you can't see the bottom. It's breathtaking.

As we neared Klamath Falls, I was getting a little nervous about our delay. We had still not recovered from the delay we took after the trespasser incident the day before; we were running about 90 minutes behind schedule. In theory, I had just about an hour's cushion to connect with the Empire Builder in Portland. Unless Amtrak was going to hold the Empire Builder for those of us who were connecting, I had some cause for concern about being able to ride to Portland on the Starlight and still be able to make that connection.

Now, in years past, the northbound Coast Starlight didn't connect with the eastbound Empire Builder in Portland because of habitual delay problems. Back then, Amtrak would bus passengers making that connection from Klamath Falls, Oregon to Pasco, Washington. The bus connection took most of the day, and while scenic, it wasn't the best arrangement. The Starlight has been running much better in recent years, so Amtrak started supporting the train-to-train connection in Portland a few years ago. My worry was that we would get to Klamath Falls, and because of our delay, I'd be bussed from Klamath Falls to Pasco. A full day on a bus wasn't what I was hoping for. 

Detraining in EugeneSo when we left Klamath Falls with nary a mention about a bus connection, I breathed a sigh of relief. We kept losing time, however, and by the time we got to Chemult, Oregon, we weren't running any better on time. At some point between Chemult and Eugene, Oregon, the other shoe dropped. The conductor came on the intercom and announced that any passenger connecting to the Empire Builder should detrain in Eugene and board a bus to Portland. The bus would make better time than the train, and would consequently make the connection. It wasn't what I was hoping for. To be honest, I would have rather Amtrak put me up in Seattle and put me on the next day's Empire Builder rather than take a bus. I asked the station manager in Eugene if that was a possibility, got a flat-out, "No," and reluctantly boarded the motor coach.

Inside the Eugene train stationThe motor coach ride is about what you'd expect. It took two hours, and I slept the whole way. I was hoping for some time to explore Portland on this trip, but it wasn't to be. The bus dropped us off in front of the station, I grabbed my bags, walked through the station and out to the train. I made the connection, though, so I shouldn't complain, but man, I would have loved two more hours in the Parlor Car.

The Coast Starlight along the beach

When you board in First Class, you get a complimentary bottle of champagne or sparkling cider and a free toiletry kit.My trip on the Coast Starlight began the way one would expect. We pulled out of Los Angeles Union Station on-time, I opened the door to my deluxe bedroom to find a bottle of champagne, shampoo, soap, all arranged on the sofa, and quickly retired to the Parlor Car (a First Class lounge only found on the Coast Starlight) in preparation for a trip up north along the Pacific Ocean.

I've ridden this route twice before, so I thought that I knew what to expect. I didn't.

Every time I ride the Coast Starlight I realize that I've forgotten how much I enjoy the train and the scenery. The Parlor Car experience is unmatched anywhere else in Amtrak, short of privately owned cars that make occassional trips on the back of Amtrak trains. The cars feature plush seats, a more private dining area as compared to the dining car, complimentary Wi-Fi, a wine and cheese tasting, and a movie theater (!) downstairs. Unfortunately, the Wi-Fi and Movies rely on a satellite connection that wasn't working the day I rode, so I had to go without those perks (probably just as well, as those would have just distracted me from the scenery). The scenery on the Coast Starlight is among the best and most varied that Amtrak has to offer in its entire national route network. Heading south-to-north, you begin the journey by following the California Pacific coast along innumerable beaches and resort towns. The views are just breathtaking and there are a number of stretches where the train literally rides on the beach; if you were to open a window, you'd get sand and ocean spray in your face. North of San Luis Obispo, the train jogs inland among vineyards and farm country. You go to sleep with the San Francisco skyline in the distance and awake as you're winding your way through the Cascade Mountains in Oregon. It's that combination of varied scenery and amenities that make the Coast Starlight, I think, Amtrak's best route today.

The Pacific Parlor CarAs I sat in the Parlor car, these are the thoughts that were on my mind—I was thinking of what was ahead in my trip: the scenery, the meals, the plush accommodations. That's when it happened.

At first, I didn't realize what it was. It was about noon Pacific time; we had just left Oxnard and were on our way north to Santa Barabara when the train started to slow. I was seated in the Parlor Car facing backward, so it didn't feel like an abrupt brake application to me. But the Parlor Car attendant, who was walking down the center aisle, stumbled. And then I heard the hiss of air being released from the brakes. The expression on the attendant's face became sullen; it was clear she immediately knew what may have happened. She sat down at an empty table, said, "Oh no," and buried her face in her hands.

It didn't take long for me to connect the dots. There were about 10 people in the car at that time and I was clearly the only one—besides the attendant—who had a clue about what was up. I ran back to my room, grabbed my scanner, and turned it on with my earphones connected to keep things quiet. 

The first words I heard were those of the engineer (I'm paraphrasing here), "it was two of them on the west side of the gauge. They appeared to be embracing."

I looked outside and saw the head conductor walking toward the rear of the train.
"Are you sure there's no chance we missed them?" the conductor said.
"No," said the engineer. "Listen, we may need to pull the train forward so the passengers don't see anything."
"No, it's fine," said the conductor. "I see them. They're way back beyond where anyone can see anything."

What the conductor apparently didn't realize, though, is that we were on a curve, and from where I sat, I could see the bodies. The heat waves coming off of the right of way distorted any detail, but I saw enough to know that I didn't need to see anything more. I've always daydreamed about becoming a conductor or engineer one day. At that moment, I knew I was glad to be in the Parlor Car and not walking the tracks having to deal with this.

"Okay," said the conductor. "Yeah," he sighed. "We've got two down. Let's get the local police and coroner out here."

We sat there for the better part of 90 minutes, but it felt like it was only 30. My lunch was served as I sat there in the Parlor Car, listening to the scanner, watching the police walk up and down the trackbed alongside the train. Needless to say, I didn't eat very much. Over the course of that time, the conductor realized that both bodies were breathing. Then a few minutes later the coroner showed up and covered one of the bodies with a sheet. "We have one fatality," said the conductor. Not long after, we were cleared to leave the scene. My understanding from reading the news reports is that one of the trespassers was a male, apparently a local vagrant, and the other was a female. Alcoholic beverages were discovered near the bodies, and news reports have since noted that it appears they may have been trying to run away from the train, but were too late or tripped in the process.

Most of the people on the train had no idea what happened. The only announcements the crew made were along the lines of "Folks, we have to stop here for a bit, but we'll be on our way just as soon as we can. Thanks for your patience." A few people in the Parlor Car caught on when they saw the police walking outside, though, and word quickly spread among the curious. There were two private cars on the rear of the train which were much closer to the site of the accident by the time the train pulled to a stop. I shudder to think of what the view was like from those cars, but hopefully most of it was concealed. 

Once we got moving again, the head conductor brought two passengers—a young woman and her child of maybe 5 or 6 years—into the Parlor Car. He sat them down, pulled the Parlor Car attendant aside and said, "whatever these two folks want to eat, I'm paying for it." He brought a board game over to the girl and gave her a hug and a kiss. I later learned that she was his daughter. It was clear that the incident had affected him in a way that's just too hard to express in words and it really affected me to see it. I later ran into the conductor in the hallway of my sleeping car and told him that he did a fantastic job today. He thanked me, smiled, and shook my hand. Sometimes being a conductor can be a thankless job, and it seemed to me that he appreciated the kind words.

I'll never forget that day, that conductor, that Parlor Car attendant, and those two people laying lifelessly on the tracks. But the reality is that this happens every day around the country. People try to beat trains in their cars. People walk along tracks with earphones in their ears. People get drunk and hang out on the rail bed. It's just a sad fact of the world we live in, but knowing that doesn't prepare you for how to react when you see the worst happen. It scars you.

Phillipe's, where I had breakfast

Sure enough, when I woke up the next morning as the train approached LA, there were already a number of replies on the forum suggesting where to eat in LA. The overwhelming consensus was that I had to go to a place called "Phillipe's", about a block and a half from Union Station. Phillipe's is renown for its French Dip sandwiches like Philadelphia is renown for a Cheese Steak. A French Dip is essentially a hot sandwich of roast beef, pork, or lamb, served on a crusty roll over which seasoned pan juices are poured. Breakfast food? Maybe, maybe not. But it's what they're famous for, so I got a lamb sandwich and a cup of chili. It's been some time since I had a French Dip, but man, I can say with certainty that the last French Dip I had came nowhere NEAR to the sandwich I had for breakfast at Phillipe's. The meat was tender, it wasn't stringy or overcook, and the sauce didn't overwhelm the taste of the meat itself. I usually hate soggy bread, but as I ate the sandwich and the juices soaked into the crusty roll, it actually started tasting BETTER. It's a peculiar thing, eating a sandwich that tastes good and as you go it tastes better and better. The chili wasn't half-bad either, but the sandwich was clearly the star of the show.

I should also mention the atmosphere of Phillipe's as well. I went in expecting to find a diner atmosphere. Instead, I found something quite different and much more unique. You walk in and the concrete floor is dusted with what looks like sawdust. The seating area is split into two sections: long, tall tables with tall stools, and long, low profile tables with really short stools. All of the seating is communal, and I got the impression that most of the folks in there were regulars. You walk up to a long counter and place your order with one of about 4 or 5 clerks working there--kind of how you order meat at a deli. A minute later, she slides an old, weathered tray to you over the top of the counter and gives you the total--it's a cash-only place, by the way. Once you've got your food, you go find a seat. Being a shy newcomer, I took a seat on an empty low profile table, got myself some water (it's self-serve) and dug in. About half-way through my sandwich, an older man came and sat down diagonal from me. He was the sort of fellow you knew had been coming to this place every morning, sitting in the same seat for ages. His skin was weathered, his hands looked like they had seen some tough day, but the minute he bit into his sandwich his eyes just lit up. As I finished, I realized I didn't see a trash can anywhere to throw my plates away.

Los Angeles Union Station"Do I just leave my tray here, I guess?" I asked him.
"Yup. They pick it up for ya," he nodded.
"Thanks, it's my first time here."
"You kidding? This is my thousandth! You'd better come back!"
That pretty much made the trip to LA a victory in my book. And he's right, I had better go back--it was a great breakfast.

I looked at my watch and it was 9:30 AM. I still had 20 minutes until the Coast Starlight was to start boarding, and 45 minutes until it actually started to pull away from the platform. I've cut things much closer (see my "Never turn your back on a loaded train" entry from 2007 and you'll see what I mean), so I decided to take the chance and see if I could find/ride the recently re-opened Angels Flight Incline Railway.

The Angels FlightWithout going into a ton of backstory, the Angels Flight was an incline railway built in the early 20th century to help Los Angelens get from one point of the city to another over a very steep hill. It was shut down in the 1960s (thanks, Urban Renewal™!) and moved a few blocks away where it ran, on and off until a fatal accident in the 1990s. It just reopened this year with newer (safer) cars, and a round trip fare that's somewhat economical: 50¢!

I boarded a nearby bus, paid $1.25 for a one-way ticket, and 4 minutes later I was at the Angels Flight. A ride on the Flight takes no more than 20 seconds or so, but you don't go for the length of the ride. You go for the history and for the place the Railway has in the history of Los Angeles. The station agent mentioned that a goodly number of people actually use the Railway each day to commute to and from work as well—they even honor metro passes!

I got back to Union Station using the LA Metro Subway. It was a quick one-stop ride as well, but I'm glad it was there; it would have been a good 20 minute walk and I only had about 15 minutes to spare until the Starlight pulled from the platform.

So LA was a success; I got a ton done in only a short hour and a half:
Breakfast at Phillipe's, a bus ride, a ride on the Angels Flight, and a ride on the LA Metro Subway. Not too shabby. It was a great start to what was going to turn into an awful, awful day for two unfortunate people.      

1. I've been on the Chief twice: once from Garden City, KS to Chicago and once from Flagstaff to Los Angeles. I've been trying for years to fill the gap in between Garden City and Flagstaff, and this was my chance.
2. The Southwest Chief is Amtrak's fastest Long Distance passenger train that runs entirely outside of the Northeast Corridor. It runs on an old Santa Fe (now BNSF) line that is still equipped with a 1930's safety mechanism that meets the Federal Railroad Administration requirements for running faster than 79 MPH (the speed limit for all other long distance trains outside of the NEC); its top speed for portions of its run through Kansas and Arizona is 90 MPH. I always found it ironic that today's fastest passenger train outside of the NEC was able to claim that title because of 1930's technology, and I've always wanted to ride that stretch of track as a result.

Downtown Raton, NMI wasn't sure of what to exactly expect in terms of scenery on the trip; I've spent time in Kansas and western Oklahoma, so I knew that terrain rather well. West of that territory, however, I was completely fresh.
The scenery didn't disappoint. Much of the trip to Colorado and New Mexico was pure mountain scenery; it reminded me of the California Zephyr's run through Utah and western Colorado. Vast, arid acres, spotted with huge boulders perched precariously atop orange-brown cliffsides.
I found the towns just as interesting. Raton, NM is a great example. We had a long stop there where the passengers were allowed to step off of the train for a breath of fresh air. When my feet hit the bleached red brick platform, I instantly felt like I could have been stepping back into the late 19th century. In front of me was a fantastically preserved stucco station, a charming 19th An old Atcheson, Topeka, & Santa Fe Railroad Mailboxcentury main street, and as I looked to my right, there stood an Railroad Mailbox for the Atcheson, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railroad (yes, Johnny Mercer was singing about an actual railroad). 
As we worked our way west to Albuquerque (a town I've always wanted to visit, partially so I can say that I took a left turn at Albuquerque in a Bugs Bunny voice) our train was speeding along at a good clip; I clocked us pushing 89 MPH for a few long stretches. Suddenly, all of the lights went out and a few minutes later we eased to a stop; through my scanner I heard the engineer come on the radio and tell the engineer that the second of our two diesel engines has shut down and he was going to walk back and see what was up. A few minutes later, the report came in: the second engine was dead in the water. A copper tubing had broken and the liquid coolant for the engine had emptied onto the tracks; the engine had overheated as a result and couldn't be restarted for any significant period of time. The decision was made to continue ahead to Albuquerque with the one good engine providing traction (pulling power) and lights/air conditioning to the entire train with the second dead engine in tow. The plan was that we would add a third engine to our train that was stored in Albuquerque for problems like this, and we'd be on our way. The dead second engine would be fixed in Los Angeles.
Our 89 MPH track speed was suddenly reduced to a leisurely 65 MPH or so as we worked our way toward Albuquerque. A number of times the BNSF dispatcher came on the radio to check on our progress and asked if we'd be able to make it into Albuquerque. I remember our engineer responding, "yeah, we'll be on our hands and knees, but we'll make it."

We pulled into Albuquerque almost an hour late. The third engine was powered up and waiting for us and the crew immediately took to unhooking our two engines and added the (new) third engine next to the baggage car. While the crew worked, I took the chance to take in as much of Albuquerque as I could. Had we been on time, I would have had an hour to walk into town to see the sights, but the crew asked us to keep close to the platform because of our delay.

Vendors selling there wares at AlbuquerqueI had heard that Albuquerque was a stop similar to Grand Junction, CO (on the California Zephyr's route) in that local vendors are on the platform selling a variety of wares during the layover. In Grand Junction, there's an actual store that opens up just for the train to sell fresh fruit, ice cream, and local snacks. There wasn't anything that elaborate in Albuquerque, but there were a number of Native American vendors with tables set up on the platform selling local handmade jewelry.
The Albuquerque Station is also new (though it's made to look old), and plays host to both Amtrak and Greyhound. Albuquerque is also a main stop on the relatively new New Mexico Rail Runner Express commuter service between Santa Fe and Belen, NM, and much of the rolling stock was being stored for the weekend in the Albuquerque yard.
Moving right along... at 88 MPH.Not long after dinner we eased into Flagstaff, one of those towns everyone knows of but not enough people visit. I spent some time in Flagstaff a few years ago as part of a Grand Canyon trip and can't speak highly enough of the town. It's a vibrant town, full of nightlife in a beautiful area of the country. You can even hop off the train and rent a car from a Hertz desk within the train station, presumably to spend a few days in the Grand Canyon, which is nearby. As we left Flagstaff I drifted off to sleep listening to the train horn in the distance. 
When I woke up on Saturday morning, the scenery outside my window had changed yet again, from desert to the condos and palm trees of southern California. We had made up most of our delay through the night and were looking at an on-time arrival into Los Angeles' Union Station. The Southwest Chief is one of those trains that does what it does very well. It's fast, it's extremely efficient and popular, and the scenery is easy on the eyes. The best part of the Chief, I think, though, are the towns it goes through. These are small to midsize communities that have a lot of history and a lot of heart--towns like Raton and Flagstaff. The best part of the trip on the Chief, for me, was not riding through the towns, but stepping off and getting a taste of their atmosphere.

Tomorrow I'll be posting a recap of the Southwest Chief, my Los Angles layover, and an exciting and sad Coast Starlight trip.

Rafi

Still not sure if I'll get GPS up today or not. It depends on my luck finding a fast internet connection in LA on the brief layover.

Union Station's Main Lobby in Kansas City

The only thing I knew for certain was that I'd be spending 11 hours in Kansas City, and unless I wanted to park myself on a bench in the station for that long, I'd better go exploring. So I did.

I did some research first, however. I frequent an Amtrak riders discussion forum called Amtrak Unlimited, which is an incredible resource for trip preparation. Odds are if you have a question about Amtrak or where Amtrak goes—no matter the obscurity—someone will have an answer posted for you within hours, if not MINUTES. So I turned to the forum and asked if anyone could provide information on what to do on a Kansas City layover. The response was almost overwhelming. Here's a brief, truncated list of some of the ideas people came up with:

• Visit the Union Station museums (Science Museum and a Railroad Museum)
• Jazz Hall of Fame
• Negro League Baseball Museum
• eat at Arthur Bryants
• walk around Crown Center (mall connected to the train station)
• eat at the Harvey House in Union Station
• eat at Pierpont's Steak House in Union Station
• eat at Jack Stack Barbecue in the old freight house near Union Station
• Go on a Segway tour from Union Station
• Visit the WWI museum and Liberty Memorial
• Eat at Oklahoma Joe's BBQ
• Visit Kansas City Power and Light District

 Union Station's Waiting Room at NightBy the time my River Runner train pulled into Kansas City's Union Station, my problem was not figuring out what to do with my day, it was figuring out what to CUT from the list.

Before I could even begin laying out my itinerary, however, I was blindsided and distracted for a good hour by something expected, yet unexpected: the architecture and history of Union Station in Kansas City. 

 In my travels around  the country, I've visited a lot of train stations. I kind of go out of my way to find them—it's a little weird. And in those visits, I've realized that old train stations that are still in use for passengers usually fall into one of two broad categories:

• Stations that show their age and look tired and worn.
• Stations that have been revitalized and show a bright future.

Kansas City's Union Station (like St. Louis, Washington, DC, Grand Central Terminal, etc) falls into the latter category. It's a proud, proud station that forces you to look up when you walk into the head house or main waiting room. It's an imposing structure, and it makes it easy to imagine what it must have been like in its heyday. People sitting in the waiting room reading papers, men getting shoes shined, the echo of the announcer on the intercom, etc. But that's when you start realizing that trains account for a very, very small percentage of why the station exists today. Amtrak is relegated to a small corner of the station. You don't even board your train from the main waiting room anymore. Instead, you're led out onto a gangplank, walked over catwalk and down stairs to one remaining platform (the station used to have 15 platforms for about 30 tracks!) completely isolated from the rest of humanity. So while the station is vibrant, the trains hardly get a nod, much less a wink. Sadly, that's par for the course in our country today. To have a vibrant, revitalized Union Station is more than most cities can say.

Yes, this is where Jim sent me. To find model trains. I kid you not.But enough about the station. Let's just say it's fantastic, you need to visit, it's sad to see that there isn't much of a focus on trains, and let's move on to Kansas City in general.

As I was touring Union Station, I came across a gentleman named Jim volunteering at the rail museum in the station and we got to talking. One thing led to another and we both realized that we were model railroaders. Now, I have this crazy habit where whenever I'm on a big trip of some sort, I like to take home a piece of model railroad equipment that I get on the trip to integrate into my collection. It's kind of like my version of a scrapbook. I realized that Kansas City would be the only place in which I'd have enough time to actually go to a hobby store to find something, so I asked Jim if he could recommend a place. Without hesitation, Jim told me to go to this place named "Doc's Caboose" and he gave me directions on which busses to take. I was off.

Quick digression: one thing Kansas City lacks is an operating streetcar or Light Rail, and it's one thing I think it needs. But that said, Kansas City's bus system isn't too shabby, to be honest. I purchased a $3 day pass and let's just say I got my money's worth. By the time the day was over, I had six bus trips under my belt and had explored the whole city.

Back to Doc's Caboose. So I get off the bus at the stop Jim told me, and… I'm in the middle of Terminator 2 country. I mean, we're talking abandoned warehouses built in 1885 and probably empty since 1965. Luckily, there was one other fellow on the bus, and we got to chatting and realized we both were going to the same area, so he confirmed that Doc's Caboose was, in fact nearby and pointed me to it. Take a look at the pictures. Talk about a hole in the wall, right? Well… let me just say that if you are into HO or N scale model railroading and visit Kansas City, go out of your way to go to Doc's Caboose. It's like stepping into an oasis when you open the door. The prices are great, and the guys that work there are the nicest fellows you'll come across. Doc himself (yes, his name is actually Doc; I couldn't believe it) rung up the sale, shook my hand, and thanked me for my business. I walked out with a brand new Rock Island F-7 N Scale Diesel engine for my office and can't wait to get home to run it.

But sure enough, the store was there! And it was worth the trip. Seriously. Highly recommended.But by the time I walked out of Doc's Caboose, I was starting to see a pattern in Kansas City: everyone is so darned nice it's a little alarming! From Jim at Union Station, to the guy on the bus, to the guys in the hobby store, everyone seemed to go out of their way to make sure I felt at home. I even had a lady walk up to me on a street corner (because I was clearly trying to get my bearings with a map—I probably looked like the prototypical tourist I always make fun of in Baltimore) and help me find a bus stop—completely out of the blue!

That set the tone for the rest of the day. I visited the WWI memorial, had a fantastic barbecue dinner at Jack Stack's, caught a movie in Kansas City's historic Westport district, and just had a fantastic time. Frankly, I didn't have ENOUGH time in that city, and I'm seriously contemplating a return visit later this year to finish my checklist.

This trip has had one common denominator so far, and that's been midwest hospitality. I hate to stereotype, but shoot… as far as I'm concerned on this trip so far, it's true: midwesterners are a heck of a nice bunch of people.

St. Louis' Amtrak PlatformsPart of the reason I began this trip in St. Louis is the fact that I have not been able to find a chance to ride the Amtrak route through Missouri between St. Louis and Kansas City. It's gone by a few different names over the years, but today it's known as the Missouri River Runner. As far as the Southwest Chief was concerned, I've ridden parts of the route before, but I've never seen the country between Garden City, KS and Flagstaff, AZ. As I mentioned in my earlier post, the River Runner connects with the westbound Southwest Chief in Kansas City, so when I was planning the trip, I decided early on that this was my chance to kill two birds with one stone: ride the River Runner (which I had never seen at all), and ride the Southwest Chief, filling in the missing (and most scenic) gaps.
The River Runner isn't an elaborate train. My consist on Thursday was rather spartan: a P42 Diesel Engine, two Horizon Coaches (those are single level coaches similar to what you see in the Northeast Corridor, but, frankly, not as good looking), and a Horizon Cafe/Business Class car (that's a car that's half cafe, half business class seating). Again, nothing special. But you could probably argue that that's all the River Runner really needs today. It's a relatively short run end-to-end (about 5 and a half hours), and the cars didn't have a chance to really get dirty or run-down over the course of the trip. There were two eyebrow raising features of the train, however:

• Scenery along the River Runner RouteThe Business Class seating is essentially what Amtrak used to have as First Class seating on its Metroliner trains in the Northeast Corridor. That's 2-1 seating (a row of paired seats on one side of the car, and a row of single seats on the other), with overstuffed faux-leather chairs that recline WAY back, and nice, upholstered, wide armrests. Compared to the coach seating, the Business Class is a steal (the upgrade is something like $12).
• The Cafe Attendant was probably the best natured Amtrak Cafe attendant I've ever had. Remember, this train was departing at 6 AM, which meant she was on duty beginning at 5 AM. Not only that, but she learned that morning that the Cafe car was bad ordered and she had to restock a brand new car before the train departed. Then, once the passengers boarded, everyone wanted breakfast. If I were in her shoes, I would have gone mad. But somehow, this woman (whose name I didn't get, and I wish I had) found it within herself to remain chipper, laughing, and just generally jovial. She later told me that she only got 4 hours of sleep the night before because of a late train, and at that point I just conceded that some people are better suited for some jobs than others. I can't even begin to imagine myself in her shoes. She single-handedly made the trip an enjoyable one.

View along the Missouri RiverIn terms of scenery, the River Runner lives up to its name. You're speeding along the Missouri River at a good pace (I clocked us moving around 60-70MPH for most of the trip), and the morning sun makes for a great backdrop on the journey. You're passing through small, sleepy main street midwestern towns that look like they've been plucked out of the turn of the Century (the last one, that is)—think Music Man, or Main Street USA kind of stuff. There's livestock a-plenty, friendly faces at every station, and just a slower pace of life. I promised myself that the next time I ride the River Runner, I'll make it a point to stop off in a town like Jefferson City to have lunch and meet the locals. It's almost a shame to ride through without stopping to smell the roses, especially in towns like that.
There was a time when trains on this route were running so late that Amtrak cancelled them altogether and bussed people instead; this was only a few years ago. Things have gotten much better since then. The on-time-performance has rebounded in a big way (although some of that gain is no doubt a reflection of lessened freight traffic due to the recession), and our train eased into Kansas City's Union Station right on time.
The River Runner's a modest train, but it's a train that serves its purpose very well. It's filled with local Missourians on their way to college, to visit family, or to run errands. It may not have a sightseeing car, or a full dining service, but frankly, it doesn't really need those things. More than anything, the thing that I'll remember most, really, are the people and their hospitality. Makes you want to go back and visit again some day.

The GOOD news is that I've just about got the webcam up and running again, and have placed the thumbnail on the right hand side of the page. Stay tuned. More updates are coming (I'll be posting something about Kansas City this afternoon and about Kansas and Colorado tonight).

Laclede's Landing in St. Louis, near the Arch

When you're visiting Saint Louis, especially when you've flown in, it's easy for one to forget just exactly where you are. For example, if you come from a city with a tall sky-line—like New York, Chicago, San Francisco, etc—you can feel like you're sort of still in that area of the country, because downtown St. Louis has much of that same feeling. However, if you were to ride the Light Rail east into Illinois—just 5 or 10 miles out of town—you're going to find yourself in the middle of flat, endless cornfields. It's a very interesting feeling to be able to instantaneously remove yourself from "big city" skylines and step out into a cornfield.

Incidentally, the Light Rail line dead ends at Scott Air Force Base, which is nestled in the middle of those cornfields. It's the site of the Air Force Reserve Command's 932nd Airlift Wing and the Illinois National Guard's 126th Air Refueling Wing. Interestingly it's also the site of St. Louis' MidAmerica Airport, which was famously built as a siphon airport to relieve congestion at Lambert Field, but was essentially a bust in that role. Allegiant Air pulled out of there in 2009, and it's just a civilian/military airport now.

Scott Air Force Base. This is about 30 minutes outside of town by Light Rail, pretty much in a cornfield.Speaking of congestion, the last thing I'll mention about St. Louis is Union Station. No, not the Amtrak Station: Union Station—St. Louis' grand old station that is now a mall.

Without going into the long, sordid history, suffice it to say that St. Louis was a rail mecca in the late 19th century and during the beginning of the 20th century. Union Station was positively gargantuan and very, very well appointed and saw its fair share of movie stars, dignitaries, and politicians. The famous picture of Truman holding up a "Dewey Defeats Truman" newspaper headline on the back of an observation car was taken at St. Louis' Union Station, in fact. You have to remember, train stations are what introduced newcomers to cities, and each town wanted to roll the red carpet out. Here's a quote I found from Building News in 1875 that pretty much sums it up: "Railway terminals and hotels are to the 19th century what monasteries and cathedrals were to the 13th century. They are the only real representative buildings we possess."

The main waiting room in Union StationSadly, as rail service in the nation declined, so did passenger counts at Union Station. Ultimately, Amtrak left the station for a "temporary" station (read: double wide trailer in a dirt parking lot) and stayed at that location for 20-some odd years. Union Station was rehabilitated into a mall, with only a few, old, creaky tracks still leading into the train shed (which have since been disconnected in the past few years). Incidentally, I found one fact that I thought was just hilarious. Union Station was built out of need for added capacity. There was an older station that opened in 1875 in St. Louis, and by the time it had opened, it was already inadequate because it could only handle 14 trains a day. As a result, Union Station, a "megastation" replaced it. Sounds reasonable, right? Now, remember, 14 trains a day in 1875 was just unacceptable. Well, today—2010, St. Louis sees a whopping SIX trains a day. SIX. I'll leave it at that.

The train shed has been completely transformed. While the canopy is still there, a Marriott Hotel has built suites under about 1/4 of the canopy, a mall occupies another 1/2, and a parking lot and Hard Rock Cafe take the remaining space. It's sad to walk through there in a sense, because you can almost see and hear the ghosts of years past in that shed. You can imagine the smoke billowing from innumerable trains, the hustle and bustle of people carrying their luggage, red caps whistling to other red caps, etc.

Union Station's historic MidwayThat said, great care has been taken to preserve the station head house in all of its glory. The main waiting room itself is just absolutely spectacular, and the midway has been preserved as well. If you want a taste of what St. Louis once was, Union Station is a MUST see.