)(( hannah mello ))(

The Train Across America. <7/17 - 7/22>

Two moments have given me goosebumps uniquely.

Two moments pulled me backwards into a snapshot of history that is now obsolete, yes, but yet too easily forgotten.

Moment 1: Aboard the free ferry to Staten Island, going past the Statue of Liberty NYC, sophomore year of college, 2002. Feeling the wind and feeling the lump-in-throat. Almost seeing huddled masses beside me in rags, shivering. How they must have looked to that Statue with skeptical disbelief and yet all the faith and hope that a human soul can muster for a new beginning-- for a dramatic and incredibly intimidating change for self and for family....

Moment 2: The California Zephyr train ride cross country that I just embarked on. July 17th to July 22nd, 2008. The name of the type of train being "The California Zephyr". The ticket having been purchased for me by my 83-year-old gorgeous Italian grandma, who similarly took a train 60 years ago from Brooklyn, NY to California for a new life. The trip being to relocate me back to the state and town of my origin. Santa Cruz, California. The hug of the Santa Cruz mountains. The craggy rock of seaside cliff and the crashing wave of salty sea.

Here are tales of the journey.

General -----------------------------------------

Day 1 <> Overnight from NYC to Chicago. Long but lovely. Along the Hudson. A sunset to remember. Must post photos at some point...


Days 2-3 Intermission <> Staying in the "West Village" of Chicago with Joe Bradley and sister and sister's boyfriend. Joe is an incredible writer with a sense of humor / crazy hippie friend I lived with in Naples, Italy 2 years ago. Reunion with laughs and Chicago late night tours -- complete with yum Chicago eats and movie-clip-viewing for Chicago in-the-know education ("Blues Brothers", "The Untouchables", "Ferris Bueller"). Joe laughed and laughed at me as I deemed Chicago as "the MOST beautiful city", "the Sean Connery of cities" and then retold stories of gangster violence, segregation, and terrible racial discrimination less than 10 years ago. The city HAS changed, but only seeing it now, it is beautiful, glistening and magic for the imagination. The elevated train (the "el" train)... the pier... the lakeside beaches and volleyball nets... it's an incredible city. (Ha, but I haven't seen it in winter... :)...)


Days 4-6 <> Daytime viewing of Illinois, Iowa, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, California. 2 additional nights. 3 days.


The Breakdown of Sights & Sounds ----------


Illinois - Flat. Same. Green. Predictable. However, there were stretches and stretches of still-flooded farmland for miles and miles. So disconcerting and definitely shaking. Shaking that their flooding had been reported months ago, but their condition was same and yet unreported.


Iowa - Such a difference. Green, yes. Lush. Farmland. But there were unexpected twists and curves of soil. Ups and downs. Rises and falls of farmland. The rows would twist here and there. The treeline inconsistent and wondrously surprising at every stretch. I loved it. I loved its unexpected nature. I loved Iowa.



Colorado - I awoke with the sun that Colorado morning. I awoke to cattle ranchers outside on horses and off of horses. A sight held forever in mental snapshot. The morning was spent weaving through the basin below the rocky rim. We pulled into Denver for an entire 25 minutes. :) Finally, a fueling and crew change. Smokers could disembark. As did I. Not to smoke, but to run in place :) and walk back and forth down the platform. The whole day overflowed with Colorado.



The Rockies & Colorado River - The train began to climb. The first moments of climb were interrupted by "engine trouble" which kept us at bay for about 20 minutes. And then climb we did. For a long while. Craggy mountains with rock of 1000 colors on the left. Sharp cliff to the right-- all of Colorado below. Then layers. Layers of mountain ridge and treeline. Dusty golden soil in between their trunks. Boulders and little rocks terraced down every mountainside. Then the river. Aside the river-- either eye-to-eye with its edge or viewing it from a cliff far above. The river wound through those mountains like a vein of gold in rock. Rafters waved to the train. So many rafters. Multi-aged groups. Groups of teens. College-age buds. The gamut. Camped out peeps on the side of the river. Makeshift campgrounds. Formal ones. Docks. No docks. "Beaches". All of the above. People enjoying the river. The river standing alone with few trees at its edge. Only cliffs. Rock. Rock walls. dirt. Sand. A rocky, desert-y world. As we left the height of the Rockies, the photos continued. Those photos I took out the window of cloud formations on the cusp of farmland, ranches, and rocky glens were simply soulful.



Utah - From the first few hours in Utah onward, I made my place in the Observation car. (1950's depiction of it to the left...) With large windows on the perimeter and small windows on the edge of the ceiling, it's a great place to perch and just BE. Utah was my heart and soul. Desert. Pure, cracked-ground desert. Red-gold soil. AND THOSE ROCKS. Giant like the Grand Canyon walls. Sloping down like tree trunks with their roots partially exposed. Lines horizontal like layers. Lines vertical like tree trunks. Majestic. Full of sun shadows. Wondrous. Wondrous. There I sat, for hours just staring at those rock walls. When we stopped at Green River, Utah, I wanted to disembark like the British father-daughter did. They with their backpacks and sunglasses, sandals and upward-lifted eyes. I wanted to get out so bad. To walk on that cracked ground. To camp on that green-less soil. To walk up into those rocks. My heart. My soul. I must return.


Nevada - Just like a high schooler is anti a neighboring school's team, so have I historically been anti-Nevada. It's a neighboring state, less cool, and definitely not as cultured. :0) Well, as I was taking a photo of the sky and landscape to send to a friend with an anti-Nevada sentiment, what was captured on my lil' phone camera made me do a double take. Not so ugly after all. Big and bold sky and clouds.


California - The minute we crossed into California. I caught myself breathing in deeply and saying to my soul "Ah, America" .... :) Confession of an international traveler that I am not an American after all. I am a Californian. California is my America. Even Sacramento looked good to me :)... That just goes to show you how long gone I am in love with California. And how much I have missed the sight of her...





Details -----------------------------------------

The general California Zephyr train, etc - The train had 2 stories. Bathrooms and some seating on the first floor, but no one sat there. There was a snack shack as well underneath the observation car. It had 3 sleeper cars (with compartments that people paid extra for, not me :) ...) that were equipped with showers and free coffee (how jealous I was. I stole a cup after I discovered its existence, but prior to, it was $1.75 for a measly lil' cup. There was a dining car (with $6-$16 meals) that had reservations 3x a day. They'd call your first name and first initial when it was your turn. Solos like myself would sit at a booth with 3 other strangers. :) Made for some interesting convos. I only ate in the dining car twice-- once for lunch (3 Reno-going women... a mother-daughter and Donna), and once for breakfast (with a couple, oh-so-white-and-Southern, from Missouri). The rest of the trip, I fed myself with protein bars and dried fruit and water. I was DESPERATE for real VEGGIES and FRUIT... especially after the whole 3 days. Finally, there was the observation car and then 3 cars of coach where I sat-- airplane like chairs that barely reclined.


The people - 80 elderly were on a trip to Reno. I met 3 of them. One of whom I silently selected as my favorite. Donna was her name. She was an adventurer. She had made a little travel book of her own with a map of the trek, cut out info on the California Zephyr train and history tidbits from along the way. All in a little spiral rung book. I loved her. I sat beside her as she read in the observation car during that Utah wonder. There were a couple solo-traveling late-teen boys that had befriended each other and who talked to me on occasion. I wasn't in the mood for being social. I was tired and was thoroughly enjoying time and space in the no-man's-land of America in the transition. There was the Iowa-Colorado boy that introduced himself to me when he boarded one late-night, and apologized in advance if he fell all over me in the middle of the night. :) And there was the guitarist... with his 6-string and 12-string acoustics. I overheard an oh-so-white-and-Southern guy behind me say "Yer know, this there fella' playin' the geeetar just plaaaays that there geeetar. He doesn't play some there song, just plaaaaaays whate'r he done feel like. It's somethin' else." And then there was the rockstar / nature chick from Utah who was actually going to be in Santa Cruz next week for a Buddhist retreat. Amazing.


Befriended - I loved the cafe guy and the dining car guy. They knew me and nodded and smiled whenever I passed. Two train attendants became my friends. One of them had helped me find the one seat on the ghetto train :) with an outlet (for my lil' computer, camera charger, phone charger, and all of life's wondrous technology). One of them took compassion on me and let me take a shower by sneaking me to the sleeper car, giving me a towel and letting me even have a little compartment of my own for a bit. He was amazing. He had been working on the California Zephyr for "as long as I had been alive". I asked how many years and he said 25, and I was amazed. Exactly my age. Oddly enough, he guessed I was from NY. He ended up introducing me to a friend of his that had boarded in Sacramento who also worked for Amtrack and was an amazing musician / photographer guy who played the aforementioned guitarist's 12-string for a bit and showed me his photos.


Books read / Movies watched -
1. Let Your Life Speak by Parker Palmer (recommended to me in college by Judy Richards, finally read. TIMELY.)
2. Finding My Way Home by Henri Nouwen (recommended by Stephanie St. Cyr. On Facebook, she had sent me quotes from it about waiting, which made me rush order it prior to leaving NYC)
Movies: Once, Across the Universe, Sister Act 1 & 2, Meet the Parents & Meet the Fockers, August Rush


General -----------------------------------------

All in all, what the heck. :0)
America by train.

So many of so many cultures-- over so many time periods have built that railroad. It is one of America's unique points of pride and beauty. Ok, the train may have been old and ghetto :) but the experience and the sights were priceless. The trip has marked my memory and me as an American (or Californian... :) ...).

A toast to California. Land of my home.
A toast to America, so varied and diverse.
A toast to the railroad and all those that have ridden its rails.

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 1:43 PM