Back in the U. S. of A.
We flew from Brussels to Chicago, where we planned a quick getaway the very next day on the Empire Builder, the remains of a noble train that still ran across the northern edge of the US to Seattle at the time of this writing.
| ||
 |
 view from our hotel room
We were primed for culture shock, but apart from the proliferation of US flags (all of which seemed somehow to be associated with spending money and still being in business) everything seemed to be where we left it.
We noticed a lot more flags -- "Red, White, and Blue - these colors don't run" and "America is Open for Business" made it hard to miss the peculiarly repellent American mixture of patriotism and commerce. |
We arrived after dark, found another Thai restaurant -- fast food this time -- and staggered into bed. When we awoke, somewhat fuzzy, we could see Lake Michigan out the window. We had a morning to spend, and so we went out for a walk up Michigan Avenue, along what they call "the Miracle Mile." There was a bomb scare at the high rise university next door.
the Miracle Mile |
 | As if further proof was necessary, we stepped into a mall beside the River and found ourselves in the presence of decorations for America's favorite commercial holiday, Chri$tma$. Having brought back a few scarves and a bunch of postcards, and nothing else, from Europe, the materialism of mercantile capital of the western world seemed endless and mindless. I read an article that called the US "a marked down nation." Welcome home!
We got to Union Station an hour before train time, and I went off in search of (1) a church or (2) a fruit vendor, with no success. Chicago is definitely not a european city. We boarded our train knowing we were completely subject to the Amtrak larder; there was some culture shock in that. |
 |
We boarded the train in a tunnel in the bowels of Union Station. As we pulled out miraculously near on time, a branch of the Chicago river ran beside us, showing how Chicago's street level downtown is a story or two above the river, which is not at all an attractive component of the intensely urban scene. Maybe rivers in Chicago are also corridors of cold wind? Anyway, it was looking colder by the minute as our train picked up speed on its way to Milwaukie and points north and west.
We were called to the diner as night fell, and our worries about food evaporated with the smell of the excellent (if limited and middle of the road) train food. We ate well, went back to our room, watched the lights fly by for awhile, and then fell asleep.
I awoke at some small station stop in Minnesota to see delicate snow flakes floating through the station lights. Folks on the platform were bundled up and looking cold, but we were comfortable in our little rolling cocoon.
We were summoned for breakfast just as the sun was rising to reveal the immense flatness and cold of the northern Great Plains.
|
 little prairie house
Except for the cattle, seen shivering in the narrow lees of hills and trees, there doesn't seem to be much alive here in late November -- maybe the humans have fled to Florida? From time to time a reminder of the dedication of so much of America's open space to the raising of cattle would flash by.
wayside stock pens |
As the sun rose, we sped across the great flatness of North Dakota. We napped, read, and watched the occasional tree, rimed from the ice storm of the night before, ate lunch, napped again. Jet lag? On a transcontinental train trip like this, it vanishes like a shadow.
rimed trees
At meals we could count on being seated with another interesting couple eager to talk about the US after 9/11. We were surprised and warmed by the universal sense that it was a wake-up call reminding us that we're about people and relationships, not money amd profit. We sadly speculated that these die-hard train travelers are probably not representative of the USer spirit. |
Another nap, and much more country streamed by our window. Gradually the countryside roughens as it approaches the Rockies, but trees are rare events, reminding us that where trees thrive, so do people. We were glad to be able to travel through this countryside passively. |
 Badlands of western North Dakota |
 Snohomish pass in snow | Another night on the train as we negotiated the continental divide south of Glacier National Park, closed for the winter. We awoke in Spokane to see snow sifting through the trees, and watched day slowly break as we climbed the Cascades. Emerging from the Snohomish tunnel and heading down the western slope, the thick evergreen forest was dusted with snow. |
After a little excitement, we arrived in Seattle, located our rental car, and headed south to Olympia where we were reunited with Sienna. Olympia has come to be a favorite town because of Sienna's affection for it, and so we felt we'd gotten to a familiar little piece of home. The next day, we went on a field trip to see the salmon spawning, and to give Iversen, the new puppy, some time in the wilderness.
After the crowding of Europe and the emptiness of the northern Great Plains, the lush green of the northwestern rain forest felt restorative and remarkable. |
 photo credit: Bob Benck |
 wild salmon at the end of the line
Behind us, the clouds cleared away just enough to show us the Olympic Range on the other side of Puget Sound, and stayed that way long enough for us to find our traditional clam chowder lunch overlooking the harbor from Pike Street.
|
The weather wasn't photogenic, but we ate well, and enjoyed our days with Sienna. At the end of our visit, Sienna accompanied us back to Seattle via the I-5 avoidance route through Bremerton, so we could approach Seattle from the sea.
After lunch we patrolled the Pike Street Market, probably the US's best market, where we watched king salmon fly through the air, and purchased a comfortable stash of yummies to accompany us on the next leg of our train ride. |
|
We dined that night with dear friends Daniel and Amelia, ditched our car, and the next morning climbed aboard another train for the overnight ride south to Emeryville. Sienna left us at Lacey, the nearest station stop to Olympia, where Iversen met her joyously.
It was rainy and grey most of the way south, and night fell early as we were heading out of Eugene. We awoke in the night to the canyons below Mount Shasta, where snowflakes floated among the trees and the upper Sacramento was black. We slept again until Roseville, and breakfasted through Sacramento. It was raining gently when we de-trained at Emeryville, where Damiana met us and drove us home to Caspar.
|
 Angelou at home in her basket |
 ceremonial green tea |
|
 |
updated 28 April January 2002 : 18:09 Caspar (Pacific) time this site generated with 100% recycled electrons! send website feedback to the Solarnet webster |
© 2001-2002 by Caspar Institute. All Rights Reserved. | |
