Railway Rick - 02: Sleepless in Seattle

The best news about my 45 hour trip from Chicago to Seattle is that it was 44 hours. So many warnings online stated that Amtrak was notorious for being hours late, especially on long routes.  We had no delays and kept on chugging, arriving almost an hour early. That made my one scheduled day in Seattle much better, knowing I could check the boxes I wanted to see and do. The long distance Amtrak trains are double decker Super Liners, but that makes them more prone to swaying and bouncing. So sleeping wasn’t as easy on this train as it was from Syracuse to Chicago. Lots of waking up and watching videos, or reading in the middle of the night. Tuesday afternoon and night we traveled through Wisconsin and North Dakota with nothing to see. The lone picture from that day was the overnight shot from Minot, North Dakota, the one extended fresh-air break we had that night. Why anyone would put a stop in Minot, North Dakota is beyond me. Nothing to see in any direction. 

Wednesday, the complete day on the tracks was long and boring. It was everything you might expect from a day on a train in freaking Montana. Sore butt, sore legs, tired and cranky. The freshness of train travel had passed. I was doubting my sanity.  Only Kenny, the Cafe car attendant and part time bartender made me smile. He made me a killer Bloody Mary and we chatted up the baseball Cardinals since we were both wearing Cardinals hats. But let’s not forget the views out the window. Those views Wednesday were so, so, . . . unspectacular. Lots of grass to look at. And cows. So many cows. I kept expecting to see John Dutton or Rip Wheeler ride by on horses. (Yellowstone TV reference). 

 

 

There finally were a few good views of the sunset as we approached the Cascade Mountains, but not enough to make up for the train boredom.  But maybe boredom is good, because … Across the aisle from me, a random old black man came on the train and there were no more single seat pairs left. So a little old white lady moved some stuff around and invited him to sit next to her. Very nice gesture, right?  Then she proceeded to talk his ear off about her cousins and nursing homes and afflictions. Then she moved on to birthdays and horoscopes and dogs and soup recipes. Shoot me now. And you wonder why I don’t start conversations with strangers.  And another thing, it’s incredible how rude and unaware people are. Constantly answering phones on speaker and holding FaceTime conversations. Often during the quiet times of evening or early morning. I don’t want to hear your conversations!  Be aware of your surroundings; decline the call and send a text instead. Or stand up and take your call down the stairs by the restrooms, or go to the cafe car. Or the observation car. Where people are in chatty moods. Anything other than having a loud conversation in a car full of relaxing people. Yes, it’s true; I am an intolerant and cranky old man. 

And night 2 sleeping in coach was worse than night 1. Now the body was so cramped and sore, there was no getting comfortable no matter which way you tossed and turned. Luckily most of us including me had no seat mate, but there was still no easy way to stretch or lay or relax.  Somewhere in the darkness we left Montana, blew through Idaho without a hello or goodbye, and chugged into Washington. I was ready to come home. Forget the rest of the trip. I had made a big mistake. I was done!

But then, as the sun finally started to light things up outside, the views had changed. Substantially.  We were deep in the Cascade Mountains of central Washington. Lush mountain views with rivers and deep forests and tunnels.  Interestingly there was so much poverty and squalor and decay along the tracks at the foot of the mountains and the edges of the forests. Empty shacks, old RVs, tiny dilapidated A frames, rusted out abandoned vehicles, piles of rubbish.  Stark contrast to the beauty above and behind it. 

It was a slow moving train through the mountains and forests. We passed through the famed Cascade tunnel; it is 7.5 miles long and 15 minutes of darkness. And internet silence. And the lady across the aisle was being quiet. Or maybe I strangled her in her sleep. Either way, my mood started to brighten. And we were ahead of schedule. Now we were speaking my language. Then as we approached the coast, we passed thru 2 last stops just north of Seattle, and then turned south toward the Emerald City.  In this last 90 minute leg of the journey, the tracks hugged the coastline of Puget Sound, so I had great watery views out my right hand window seat. A good finish to a long trip. 

And Seattle did not disappoint. I squeezed a lot into the one day I had there. First order of business; get to the hotel and shower. I’m sure everyone on that train felt the same. The train was getting a little, shall I say stale, near the end. Then I chose to walk the waterfront and visit this famous Pike Street Market that neighbor Larry worked hard to sell me on. Good sell, Larry, good sell. Dozens of restaurants and watering holes, bakeries, fresh air markets, flowers, flying fish, scenic views. And since we were in Seattle there had to be a Starbucks; with a line of 30 people waiting to get in at noon on a Thursday. Go figure. 

I chose to have a seafood lunch at the Athenian Restaurant, made famous in one scene of Sleepless in Seattle, where Tom Hanks sat and chatted with Rob Reiner on the perils of dating. 

Then it was off to watch the Flying Fish show at the Pike Place Fish Market, where the employees work their rehearsed shtick, entertaining the patrons by throwing and catching fish, back and forth, over the heads of the onlookers. I hope they never miss; they were perfect on this day. 

After sneaking in a quick nap back at the hotel, it was time to visit the world’s famous Space Needle. Opened in 1962 for the Seattle World’s Fair, it rises up 605 feet into the air. Fun fact: the Gateway Arch in St Louis is 25 feet higher. Elvis Presley made a movie about that Seattle World’s Fair the year after it opened. (For all you Swifties out there, Elvis was the Taylor Swift of the 60s). Yes, I was an Elvis fan. Yes, I’ve seen the movie. And yes, I have it on DVD. Don’t judge. And for all you Swifties out there asking “What’s a DVD?”, that’s a discussion for a different day.  Back to the Needle … It has all the things I hate about heights; a glass elevator, angled floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the top that people actually leaned against, and a revolving glass floor around the edge of a second deck that you could stand on and look 600 feet straight down. Where is the “nauseous” emoji on this keyboard?  But I went up the elevator and looked out the windows, and took some pictures, from a safe distance of course. 

But my main course for the evening was baseball. The Mariners clinched their division title just the night before so I expected to see “hangovers”, both of the team and the crowd. I expected the star players to be sitting and resting but they weren’t. And I expected the crowd to be thin but it wasn’t. Seattle hadn’t seen their Mariners win the division crown since 2011 and the city is fired up. They’ve never won the World Series, or even been in it, for that matter. But these fans are believers; they think this is their year to end all of their long suffering. It was nice to see and be a part of. When you come from St. Louis, you are accustomed to seeing a rabid, loyal baseball fan base. And the Cardinals have a rich tradition of winning. Only the Yankees have more championships. After winning their 11th World Series in 2011 however, the Cardinals have fallen onto hard times. And in the last three seasons they have not been very competitive and their attendance has dwindled. That’s hard for a St. Louis fan to watch happen; it was a nice change to see an enthusiastic crowd again. And the Mariners held up their end for me and beat the Rockies. I’ve seen 2 sporting events so far on this trip and the home team was victorious both times. Somebody reach out to the other upcoming cities and let them know I’m on my way; they may throw me a party. 

It was only a half mile walk back to the hotel and I had tried to research live music venues for the evening. I stopped in to an Irish Pub named The Owl and Thistle. And I got lucky. They had a live singer with his acoustic guitar. His name is Danny Godinez and he’s kind of a legend around the Seattle scene. He can make that guitar sound like drums, and make it sing like a piano or a horn. Very entertaining. And while he was doing his thing, a lady staggered up near the corner of the stage and began to dance. And not just any dance. She was embracing each note with her motions and steps.  She may have been a regular; everyone seemed to enjoy her enjoyment. 

Finally I stepped away and back to the hotel to get some Sleep in Seattle.  The next morning it was time to move on.  Back to the train station for another leg of the journey. Until next time.