Come Ride With Me...Part 4

Are you ready for the return trip to Idaho? I boarded Amtrak in Bakersfield around four in the afternoon, the same commuter train, the same long slog through the San Joaquin Valley. I briefly had a seatmate who knew something about the area so found out that this is mostly farming - lots of different nut and fruit trees as well as grapes, garlic, and vegetables. I wasn't paying much attention on the trip down, but now I did see lots of trees that were probably of the nut producing variety. Still, not much to see so I mostly took advantage of the free wi-fi to catch up on e-mail and blogs. Going north, I did not have to do the brief bus connection, transferring instead directly to the Coast Starlight from the Martinez station. Fairly new relatively speaking and nondescript, this station struck me as strictly functional but clean and safe for my approximate hour layover. Well, slightly longer as again, Coast Starlight was running a bit behind. By midnight, I was snug in my roomette, sleeping in a bed while the train continued north to Portland.

View of frozen lake and snow-capped mountain from dining car

And thus, I commenced the much more civilized way to travel long distances by train. A roomette includes your own private compartment in a sleeper car (take the virtual tour here), a porter to attend to your needs including making up your bed at night and converting it back into seating for day, access to bottled water, juice and coffee pretty much anytime right in you sleeper car, meals in the dining car and wine tasting in the afternoon. The difference having slept horizontally in pajamas versus partially reclined in my clothes with a bunch of strangers was striking. Adding a roomette is not cheap, but oh so worth it. Much refreshed, I had breakfast in the dining car with this view (I think we were around Klamath Falls, OR), and amicable conversation with a couple from Salem and an elderly man from the Bay area who owns a condo in Sandpoint where I live. Small world syndrome.

One of the reasons Amtrak may run late on these longer runs is through no fault of their own; it shares track with freight trains who have priority. If there is single track and a freight train coming from the other direction, the Amtrak train must pull off on a siding and let it pass unimpeded. Usually these are short waits. But what if your train is headed into the mountains of Oregon and a freight train has broken down up ahead? Well, you have to wait until the train is fixed or can be moved off onto a siding. While eating breakfast, the train had come to a stop, and not on a siding. The announcement came that an 8000 ft long freight train was blocking the tracks ahead, broken down. Next we heard that the delay would be even longer since the crew sent to fix the train had reached the maximum time it could work during its shift, and now we were waiting for another crew to arrive. Another update informed us that the latest plan was to break the train into two parts to more easily get it to a siding. We sat for 3 hours while whoever worked on clearing the track so we could proceed on our way.

So what does one do for three hours on a train? Well, I was comfortable in my roomette, and feeling the urge at last to get out my sketchbook. I'd asked my 6 year old grand-niece if she would draw me a picture in my sketchbook before I left, telling her she could draw anything and use her crayons if she'd like. "Oh, pretty!" she commented about the cover (one I made altering the basic padfolio pattern I use), and then checked out the pen and pencil tucked inside. She only paused for a moment before taking off. I was most intrigued that her first strokes were to draw the leaves, then the stem, whatever that is at the base, and finally the petals. I definitely would have drawn the stem first, then the flower and then the leaves. She alternated between pen and pencil, even though there was little visual difference between the two. Next came the sun, the cloud and I think that's rain. Finally she signed her name followed by a heart - sweet! I shared that an artist always dates her work too and we added that under her name. I let that memory of watching her work, the satisfied look when she was finished, the total inhibition of the process inspire me to turn to a blank page.

Casting about for something to sketch without much enthusiasm, I remembered my Zentangles. Well, sort of remembered them. I have a little notebook where I've recorded many of the tangles and the sequence in which some of them are drawn. I haven't Zentangled for awhile, so I was struggling to remember designs and how to do them. But as you can see, I managed to do two - marveling at how they filled the time. I would not have been able to work on them had the train been moving - just too much movement to draw.

As I finished up the last of the shading, the train got underway. I watched the scenery, Oregon's lovely broad expanses and mountains thickly covered with conifers. No snow - it's been a pretty dry year.

And then it was time for lunch! I have always been impressed by the meals Amtrak puts out - as good as a fine restaurant with an amazing number of options. Dessert wasn't on my radar until I saw the waiters passing by with them. Oh yes, a beautiful round of strawberry cheesecake that was perhaps one of the best I've ever had.

During lunch the train had stopped again - that freight train still blocking the way. I returned to my roomette and did some stretches and a little more sketching (hemlocks with their distinctive drooping tips) and enjoyed my limited view (look - snow!). We lost another hour before getting moving again. But it meant I had ample time to attend the wine tasting, meeting another interesting group of people.

Amtrak train & bus station in Pasco, WA

I'd started to do some calculations now. I only had a two hour layover between arriving in Portland and boarding the train east for the last leg of my trip and my current train was at least 4 hours late. My previous experience has been that Amtrak will hold those connecting trains so transferring passengers aren't stranded. I was confident that I would not miss my train and have to wait til the next day's run. I was partly right. After the wine tasting, I got word that the decision had been made to get the eastbound Empire Builder underway, and transfer those of us connecting to it onto a bus when we arrived in Eugene. Yes, I know - a bus. But it was a pretty nice bus, there were only 15 of us so we could spread out, and Amtrak had bought food and drink for us. Actually, it wasn't much different to riding coach in terms of comfort. We hightailed it up I-5 and up the Columbia Gorge to make connections with the train in Spokane - about 9 hours away. We made one stop to let off passengers in Pasco, WA. 

We'd been driving through fog for awhile, and it had frozen to the trees around the station. So beautiful, and I would have missed it had the train been on time. Yes, always looking for the bright side.

We got ten minutes to stretch our legs and I spent it racing around the parking lot snapping pictures. (Again, I'm betting I was getting puzzled looks.) Then it was back on the road with an estimated arrival in Spokane of 1:15 a.m. I finished up the book I'd brought brought along and then got some sleep.

Empire Builder leaving Sandpoint ID for points east

The train was waiting for us in Spokane as promised and left pretty much on schedule. An hour later, I was stepping off in Sandpoint, right on time (middle of the night, 2:34 a.m.) Bye bye, Amtrak. Unbelievable considering how much time we were trying to catch up, even though Amtrak is known for building cushions into their schedules.

This is what I love about Amtrak. Rarely do they strand their passengers with canceled trains. They do their best to get them to their destination, even if it means busing them around problem areas to catch another train, even if they are running way late. They take care of their passengers, and the passengers appreciate it. If we were in a hurry, we would take another form of transportation. I haven't heard much grumbling amongst passengers in my travels. It's not necessarily cheaper than flying or driving (although sometimes it is), but we're not looking for cheap. We're looking for a different quality of travel. We only wish there were more parts of the United States serviced by Amtrak. Maybe someday - ridership increases with every year.

Thanks for coming along for the ride. And kudos if you've managed to read through my lengthy travelogue and not just look at the pictures. ;-) It was the break I needed and I'm ready to get back to the studio. 

California Inspiration Part 2

After opening presents on Christmas, the chaos which is family gatherings settled down a bit, and my eyes began to open to the inspiration I always find in nature. It started with this - I'd taken a walk, marveling at the many houses nestled amongst the trees along the street and spotting the snow in shadowed places. It was dark and cool, the sun barely getting through here and there. As I studied this house across a shallow ravine, I noted the sun rays making their way through the trees. A light mist was rising, swirling mystically through the light. It was ethereal and beautiful, and so quiet. I felt myself really relax for the first time in days, started seeing beyond the obvious.

You know me and trees. I had noticed a lot of Ponderosa pine trees right around the house but didn't bother to take pictures; I already have quite a few reference pics of their distinctive bark. This burned out tree, however, did intrigue me. It had a story to tell, but it wasn't talking. That's the grand-niece, Amanda.

Oddly enough, it wasn't until the next day, when we were packing up to leave and I was waiting by the cars out front that I noticed two little trees with incredible textures. I took pictures from all sides, all angles, the relatives looking on with puzzled faces. But I know you all would have understood what was going on in my head.

 

 I didn't really look at anything but the trunks, no idea what these are. Maybe someone out there can enlighten me? These are all the same tree, if I remember correctly. Below is the other slender tree, the richly colored trunk probably no more than 5 inches across, but very sturdy-looking and with a bark that looked very aged.

Not a tree but a bit of a surprise to look down and see this puff of seeds broken free from its pod. Quite large, like cat-tails, but up here at 6000 feet near no water?

I cannot resist adding this last NON-inspirational photo. As we returned to Bakersfield, just where the canyon opens up to the valley, standing like sentries up the side of mountain, or more likely trying to infiltrate into the land of pine trees... my hated palm trees!

Next up - the return trip via Amtrak - more adventures in traveling!

California Inspiration Part 1

Thanks for the comments on my previous travelogue posts. I'm happy to hear that at least some of you are finding it interesting. As promised, in this and the next post I'm sharing some things that caught my creative interest. Let's start with Dave's Stuff: Utterly Useless, Absolute Necessities. This hard to define Wofford Heights business caught my eye as we turned to climb up the steep twisty road to our cabin and I was fortunate to talk the niece and her daughter into stopping there after an emergency run for forgotten supplies. However, if you look closely, you will see a chain across the entry and we quickly noted a "closed" sign. Well, I can't blame Dave - it was Christmas eve. Bummer - it looked a really interesting place.

And then I spotted these - oh man. I had to get out and take a picture. Out jumped the grand-niece with camera as well. (We found out later that these are made from old propane tanks and are meant to be garden planters.)

We thought a few pics of these guys and we'd be on our way. But our eyes kept catching more faces, more critters. I've started following the Twitter Feed "Faces in Things @FacesPics (Admit it, you see a face)". I already have the tendency to see faces where none exist. After looking at a few on this feed, it just made it worse. I don't know what this "automatic action" thing is but I definitely see a face. Can you?

This one reminds me of an old animated cartoon figure, something I think in one of the original Micky Mouse cartoons perhaps. What's that bright yellow thing lurking in the background?

Well, no two ways about it, someone has been having fun accentuating faces in things without them. We realized we were surrounded by all kinds of repurposed metal objects, transformed into art. The cameras snapped away.

Oh, dear, our enthusiasm got the attention of Dave himself, who lives on site. He offered to let us inside, and warmed to us once he realized we thought his collectibles were very cool, not just a bunch of junk. That's when we learned that he was the one who had made the various sculptures, his thing being taking steel parts, machines, whatever, and transforming them into fun critters and other things. We also learned that he is descended from one of the first pioneers in the area and with a little prodding, Dave shared some interesting history with us. And much to Dave's surprise and delight, we actually made some purchases. Merry Christmas, Dave!

Come Ride With Me...Part 3 (with obligatory family shots)

My traveling to California for the holidays was my chance to see a part of my family I have not been with for too many years. Three generations were in included, with my brother and I representing "the elders" and 3 of his 4 kids making up the second generation. Two of those kids have families of their own now, providing the third generation and bringing our total to 12 people. The holiday plan was not to all converge on my nephew's house and spend Christmas there, but to converge on his house and then drive to a "cabin in the mountains." I had no idea what to expect, but was hoping at the least we'd get out of the brown haze. Our route took us up a narrow winding canyon that did get us away from the smog I could see trying to push its way in.

The Kern River flows down this canyon, and I was captivated by the rock formations. Couldn't get a decent picture of the river, but there were large boulders and rock layers like this all turned on end.

Eventually we emerged into a valley, an area once known as Whiskey Flats - lots of gold mining went on in the surrounding mountains. More boulder-strewn mountainsides along the road. Parts of this area are in Sequoia National Park.

Caravanning in 3 cars to the cabin

I think by now we were at about 2,000 feet but soon to head up another twisty and very steep road to the cabin which reportedly was near 6000 ft elevation. Occasionally we could get a view of the valley below.

It started looking very much like northern Idaho, all straight up and down and finally some pine trees. Had there been snow, we'd have needed chains to get up to Alta Sierra, our home for 3 days. We did see evidence of snow along the road and on shaded roofs, but the temps at the moment were still 50's to 60's.

And here is our "cabin". Yeah, not exactly roughing it, and located in essentially a little development. Houses on either side of us very close and up and down several roads.

As high up as we were, there were houses even higher. I spotted this from that second story deck.

The house was heavy on bear decorations, but this big elk really dominated. Christmas stockings were hung on the antlers, but Santa decided maybe once he filled them, it might be a good idea not to leave them hanging there.

There were two bedrooms and this loft - I was beginning to get used to sleeping with a lot of people after two nights in coach on the train - hey, at least this crew were family.

What would Christmas in a "cabin" be without a wood stove burning real logs - perfect to set the mood.

We packed in a ton of food to prepare in the more than adequate kitchen. This is me with my sister-in-law, Rosie.

We brought a Christmas tree, and small children still full of wonder: my great-nephew Ethan.

And there were teenagers too, glued to their various devices. This is my niece, Valerie, and her son Matthew.

Lots of presents also hauled in, and an amazing number of them held shoes. If you know lacrosse, then you will know how special these lacrosse shoes are. (Me- I have no clue about lacrosse).

My nephew Eric is an anomaly in the family. He kept referring to himself as the alien because he's never felt he was like the rest of the family (we soon figured out he's a lot like me). For one thing, he towers over everyone else - we really can't figure out where he gets his height. So I couldn't resist having shots of me with him - no problem seeing over me - and then his dad (my brother) - having to stand on tip toe and crane his neck to do the same.

Finally, here's great aunt Sheila with Eric's kids, Ethan and Averie, 9 and 6 years old respectively. I don't dislike kids, but I've never been comfortable around them, and have never had any of my own, so my mantra is usually "I don't do kids." Not totally true because over the years there have been a few kids that I did very well. But generally speaking, I stand back and hope for the best. I swear, kids are like cats who make a bee-line to the one person in the room allergic to them (that would be me). These two wasted no time engaging with me and being quite impressive with how well behaved they were. Maybe they were warned??? At any rate, I really enjoyed my time with them (and sleeping in Averie's bed!).

Next post - I come out of my travel daze and spot some inspiration! 

Come Ride With Me...Part 2

Continuing my holiday travelogue, now it's time to board the Coast Starlight which runs from Seattle to Los Angeles. But I'm not going that far - I'll be changing to the San Joaquin line early the next morning. But for now, I'm back in coach with an interesting seatmate from Vancouver, BC, heading into new territory. While I've traveled along the interstate to California many times, I've not taken the train down this route. Too bad it will be pitch dark in a few hours. My fellow adventurer and I feel lucky to have the first seats by the stairs as there is even more legroom and we don't need to hoist our bags into the overhead storage. I'm about to spend night two sleeping in coach - it didn't seem worth the money for a roomette since I will be transferring at six in the morning. I shouldn't have been so cheap. But in the meantime, my seatmate and I find we have lots in common, and the conversation makes the time fly by. He opts for dinner in the dining car, a new experience for him which he gives a thumbs up, pleased with the vegetarian option, and I grab lighter fare from the club car, also good. I have such a hard time keeping my eyes open on the train, and though I read for awhile, I soon gave up and drifted off for the night.

The train was a bit early getting into Sacramento where I'd be getting off. Well, of course, since I am not a morning person. A group of us got booted off at 5:45 a.m. to make the long trek in the dark from track 5 to the station proper. This reminded me of some of the treks I've taken from one airport concourse to another as we descended into tunnels under the tracks and emerged a  long ways later near the station, and I wished my duffel bag, small as it was, had wheels. And it was cold, as cold as Idaho when I left - glad I had not packed my gloves away. I had a shorter layover here, thankfully, because the station is in the throws of renovation, revealing nothing of what beauty or charm it might have. A low false ceiling and lots of scaffolding plus pigeons that wandered off the street in the hopes of being fed made me glad I wouldn't be there long. The Wikipedia entry has it so right: "...the station interior is full of scaffolding to facilitate the work being undertaken, causing the passenger waiting space to be visibly claustrophobic." And here I thought it was just me.

Through some scheduling quirk, the next leg of my trip was by bus. Yes, I know, but it was a nice bus and only an hour to the station at Stockton where we would at last board the San Joaquin line to Bakersfield. It was light now and I was reminded of what I never liked about the landscape in this part of California. Just too dry and brown and lacking in substantial vegetation for me, no offense. The station in Stockton seemed off the beaten path and felt a little dodgy as well as tired around the edges. I was glad there were so many others waiting with me and that it was not the middle of the night. I was reminded that not all station stops are equal.

At this point, I realized I hadn't had my shoes off in over 24 hours and one of them was rubbing a toe. I took the opportunity to give it some air - like my holiday socks?

I'd noticed them sometime during the night when I'd momentarily come awake, but now I looked up and there it was, framed in a window - a palm tree. For no good reason, I hate palm trees, at least in California.

And yes, now I'm in the land of palm trees, waiting for another slightly late train.

While waiting, this fellow's attire caught my attention. No one dressed even remotely like him and he didn't seem the least bit self conscious. I really did wonder what his story was.

Last leg of the trip was essentially in a commuter train - not unpleasant but not the same kind of seating as coach on the regular lines - and very long, about 4 hours through a very boring stretch of California made bleaker by the terrible air quality. Its saving grace was wi-fi access and it got me to my destination with little fanfare. I'd been peeling layers for awhile now as the temps began to climb and stepped off the train to temps in the 60's. I was whisked away to my nephew's home where a tree in the front yard sported the colors of autumn, some of its leaves scattered across the green lawn - ah yes, California Christmas! I was given my grand-niece's room to bunk in and the pleasant surprise of being able to sleep under the wedding quilt I made for my nephew and his wife. And I indeed slept well after my arduous* journey!

*In retrospect, I realized that part of what made this particular trip seem "not for the faint of heart" was all the transfers from one train to another. For those of you thinking it would have been easier to fly, well maybe, but I remember all too well long flights with one or more transfers (no direct flight for me to Bakersfield), long treks from plane to gates, long drives or shuttles to and from airports (1-1/2 hours to the nearest airport to me), and red-eye flights (only two flights to Bakersfield a day for me - very early morning or late afternoon). For me, train travel is logistically easier (the station is 10 minutes away), I am treated like a valued customer not a commodity and given lots of help along the way, and Amtrak rarely strands a rider if trains are running late - more about that when I share the return trip adventure. And food! You always have access to food & drink and can move around freely about the train and step off to stretch your legs and get fresh air at some of the longer stops along the way. I do sometimes think I'm an anomoly loving this less stressful form of travel so am always surprised at how many people are getting on and off at my little town. And I was gratified to hear all along the way that every train I was on was a sold out. End of commercial...;-)