On Track

Whatever you want to do, do it. There are only so many tomorrows. Anonymous

Life is sometimes likened to a train trip. It has a starting point and a destination. We’re on the journey, but we’re not driving the engine. As long as the train is sufficiently fueled, properly maintained, and stays on the track, the passenger need not worry or fret, for all is in good hands. So …

Winters here on the north end of the I-5 corridor are not nearly as rough, wet, or icy as they are in southwest Montana, but they can be quite gray and dreary. As much of a home-body as I am, it is nice getting out every now and then to do something new and different.

To help break up some of the monotony, I did a bit of research and discovered I could catch a train and visit Seattle for less than what it would cost to drive down and pay to park in the city, so that’s what we did.

What a pleasant way to travel! We got to the train station here in town (with free parking – how convenient is that!?). There were no crowds, no lines or queues, no baggage handlers or x-ray machines. There was just a handful of fellow sojourners hanging around making small talk and waiting for the arrival of the 9 o’clocker.

The passenger train glided into the station very quickly (and surprisingly quietly) about twenty minutes late, but no one seemed flustered, fretful, or bothered by the delay. We were directed to our cars by the friendly rail-crew and allowed to sit wherever we wanted. We were in the economy class, but our seats were very comfortable and spacious – nothing at all like airline seats!

As quickly as the train had arrived, it departed the station giving a long, cheerful wail of its air-horn. I was surprised at how swiftly it got up to speed, rolling down the track with a … What?

Where was the clickity-clack of the track? Somehow, the traditional sound of wheels rolling over track seams was gone! I hadn’t been on a train since the mid-1960s, and one of the true joys of train travel back then had been the simultaneous swaying of the train as it sped down the track, and the rhythmic clacking of the wheels as they rolled over each succeeding section of rail.

The iron ribbon has become seamless, it seems (no pun intended). For those who appreciate a quiet environment, it was certainly an improvement. In fact, the entire journey was tranquil. We didn’t have the constant roar of jet engines or the dings, pings, or intrusion of pilot-to-crew instructions. We travelers could actually have a normal conversation!

The only directives we received were given face-to-face by the conductor who pointed our way to the Bistro car, where we could go pick up refreshments (which we did). While standing in line awaiting our turn, one woman turned to my wife and said, “9 o’clock is too early to catch a train.” After a brief pause she added, “… but not for Bloody Mary!” which she ordered, received, and carried almost amorously back to her car.

The train made all of its stops along its route and yet we still made up for the late departure and reached the King Street Station in Seattle right on schedule.

There is something delightful to be found in letting someone else do the driving. I wasn’t worn out with a white-knuckle drive along a congested freeway. There were no potholes to avoid, lanes to change, or blue light specials to worry about.

We made our way from the heart of our town to the heart of the Emerald City in less than two hours. When we were finished for the day, having done our sight-seeing and visiting with our son, we caught the early evening train home and arrived exhausted from the day’s activities, but not from the day’s journey. What a blessing!

Life is sometimes likened to a train trip. I couldn’t agree more. Each of us had our own destinations, plans, and “stories,” but we journeyed peaceably together. For the crew, it was a milk run; for some passengers it was party-time; for others, coffee-on-the-go. For me? It was a rolling parable; kingdom living in this, our valley.