Romancing the Rails

(Photos by Cheryl-Anne Millsap)


I am a train lover

I love the rhythm, the intimacy, the freedom to sit and daydream, watching for wildlife and studying the patterns of the clouds, instead of worrying about missing my exit on the freeway.

I've ridden the Amtrak Empire Builder across the Northwest, and the Crescent from New Orleans to New York City.

I've crisscrossed Europe by train, people-watching and studying villages and glorious old cities through the wide windows.

My daughter and I rode the Maglev train in China, rocketing across the landscape at breathtaking speed.

But last fall I took a three day excursion from Vancouver, British Columbia to Banff, Alberta on the Rocky Mountaineer. And by the time the trip ended my love affair with trains was only deeper.

In the Gold Leaf coach we were treated like royalty. Gazing up at the jagged mountains through the domed top of the coach, I was surrounded by people of all ages who were making the trip of a lifetime. Some were celebrating anniversaries, others were marking their "must do before I die" lists. My seatmate had traveled from Australia to see her brother in Toronto and she was crossing the country by rail. I told her that one day I hope to cross her country the same way.

At one point, we pulled onto a siding and the attendants let us know a fast-moving freight train was approaching. As I stood in the vestibule taking photos of the beautiful autumn scenery, I became aware of a faint hum. It grew louder and I realized it was the empty rails beside us vibrating from the movement of the coming train. The sound grew louder and more defined and just before the freight train reached us and sped past, the tracks made the high, clear sound a bell makes after it's been rung. It was as thrilling as hearing a whale's song, and as I moved back to my seat and the train started moving again, I played the sound over in my head, relishing it.

Later, when we pulled into the station I stepped out onto the platform and took one last photo of the train, not quite ready for the trip to end.

No wonder trains have been wrapped in romance since the first iron horse thundered across the rails. If you listen close enough, trains will sing. And for train lovers like me, something inside us sings back.

Riding the Amtrak Empire Builder from Spokane to Portland

I'm planning another trip to Portland, Oregon. By train, of course.
The ride from Spokane to Portland is beautiful. The Empire Builder pulls out of here sometime around 2am. Most of the trip is made in the dark and that's ok. We sleep.

But just about sunrise, when it's time to get that first cup of coffee, the train rolls into some of the most beautiful scenery of the trip.
The wide Columbia River escorts you through the gorge. And sitting in the domed observation car, a cup of coffee and cinnamon roll in hand, it's a beautiful way to see the sights.

Thanks to an excellent public transportation system, we can walk or take the bus or MAX light rail to our hotel. From there everything we want to see - the Oregon Zoo, the Rose Garden and the shops downtown are easily accessed.

Of course, another benefit to walking is the chance to watch people. And, like the scenery wherever you go, people are always fascinating.

Read one of my favorite Home Planet columns (which just happens to be about Portland) here.

Leavin' on a midnight train...

I love traveling by train. I hop aboard whenever it is an option. And, usually, some kind of adventure follows.
I met the man I would marry on a restored steam engine making a trip to Chattanooga, Tennessee.

I met one of my best friends on the Crescent as it snaked up the Shenandoah Valley on its way to New York City.

I once had a meltdown on that same train as it traveled through the deep south down to New Orleans. I was 5 months pregnant with my first child, and I was so hungry I couldn't wait another minute for the dining car to open. The conductor (obviously a man with children) brought me a bag of chips to tide me over.

I've rolled through a winter wonderland as I rode the Empire Builder through snow-covered passes in the Cascades and sipped my coffee sitting in a domed observation car as we snaked along the Columbia River.

Like I said. I love riding the rails.

In Spokane, the Amtrak trains roll in around midnight and depart not long after. Heading to Whitefish, Montana for winter visit, the train was darkened and quiet as I opened the door of my sleeper.
The bed was made up and turned down. All I had to do was stow my gear and turn out the lights.

As we pulled out of Spokane, I watched the city roll away. The rhythm of the train lulled me. The last thing I remember before getting a 7am wake-up call was a song running through my head.

" Leavin' on a Midnight Train..."