California, September 2004 part 2

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Travelogue: California 2004, Part 2

By Roger W. Reini


By date:

25th | 26th | 27th | 28th | 29th | 30th | 1st 

Part 1 of the travelogue (through Sept. 24)

Saturday, September 25

It had been sunny every morning since I arrived in California.  Today, though, it was cloudy.  My plans for the day included going into town, doing some sightseeing, and making sure I got a pin from the Hard Rock Cafe (more on that later).  I left the hotel before 9 this morning, driving off for the BART station in South San Francisco.  I took the BART all the way in to the Embarcadero station, the last stop in San Francisco.  Here, I went up to street level, where I could see that it was still cloudy.  I could see the Ferry Building quite easily, though, so I took some pictures of it.  That is one building that in the past has been a defining building for San Francisco.  While walking over there, I passed through an arts and crafts show, where there were many interesting items for sale.  I made note of some, hoping to consider them on my way back.

However, before I could go farther, I realized that I had to go to the bathroom rather urgently.  Fortunately, there was a public toilet right there on the street.  It was an automatic model; deposit 25 cents, and it would open up, allowing you 20 minutes to take care of business.  I didn't need 20 minutes.  After you exit, the facility flushes and cleans itself automatically.  When I left, a woman rushed in as the door was closing, trying to avoid paying for the facility.  I wonder if she got a nasty surprise?  Or is there a mechanism that would prevent the wash cycle from happening if someone went inside under those circumstances?

There was a marketplace of a different type at the Ferry  Building: a farmer's market, with fresh vegetables and fruit.  The inside was something of a market, as well.  Now the Ferry Building was still the embarking and destination point for some cross-bay ferries, though I would not be taking any today.  I didn't stay too long there, for I left and got into line for a MUNI F-line trolley.  These trolleys run exclusively on the surface (most run underground downtown), and they consist of historic trolley cars from all over the world, including some that had previously been used in San Francisco.  This line went down to Fisherman's Wharf, so it was very popular with the tourists.  In fact, I had to wait for another trolley to arrive before I could board, and then it was so packed that I had to stand.  I could not see very well on board, for the windows were well below eye level, but I could see the many businesses that had taken over the old wharves.  Some of them were even marine-related: I saw a number of charter boats, and the cruise ship fleet had its dock along the Embarcadero.  If this had been 1989 or earlier, trolley cars would not have been traveling here, for this would have been the middle of the Embarcadero Freeway, but that was leveled in the early '90s.

At Pier 39, the trolley emptied.  I don't know if everyone got off there  or not, but it sure seemed like it.  Yes, I got off at that stop, too.  My first destination was the Hard Rock Store, attached to the Hard Rock Cafe.  Having had a hamburger last night, I did not want to eat at the Hard Rock today.  My goal: to get a pin for a friend of mine, who retired from Ford a few years ago.  The pin should have something to do with San Francisco, he said.  I figured a pin incorporating a cable car in its design was sufficiently evocative of San Francisco, so I bought it for him.  Actually, it's his wife and daughter who are into the pins.  Now that my main business had been concluded, I could wander around Pier 39 and see what had changed.  Some stores had gone, such as the Warner Brothers Studio Store.  But much was the same as it had been in 1997.  The sea lions still hung around on the abandoned docks.  Street performers still gave shows during the day.  I caught the last part of a magic act; here, the magician had four young men sit down and interlock their bodies in such a way that, when the chairs were pulled away, they would not fall down.  There were still restaurants that served clam chowder in a sourdough bread bowl; I ate at one of those restaurants, Boudin Sourdough.  The great view of the bay was still there, and so were the crowds.

I walked down the Embarcadero, past the crowded docks for the Blue and Gold Fleet.  There were many who were waiting for either a Bay Cruise or a trip to Alcatraz.  I've taken two bay cruises before, and I didn't feel like another – well, another with these companies, anyway.  And I didn't particularly want to visit Alcatraz, either, although it is a hot tourist attraction.  Onward I went, past the Red and White Fleet, another purveyor of Bay Cruises.  But when I came to the USS Pampanito and Jeremiah O'Brien, I stopped.  I figured I would tour the O'Brien, one of the few remaining Liberty ships of World War II.  It served at Normandy on D-Day, and it was the only vessel that had been there that returned for the 50th anniversary celebration in 1994.  After paying the admission fee, I walked up the gangplank.  It was somewhat narrow, and it bounced up and down and rolled a bit from side to side.  This made me a little nervous going up; would I get tossed into the drink?  No, I wouldn't; I made it on board, after which I toured the ship.  I didn't go down into the engine room, but I did make it up to the top-level bridge.  I saw the quarters where the officers bunked.  I saw the cargo holds.  I saw some of the guns that were still on board.  The vessel is still seaworthy, and a group of volunteers help keep it that way.  I did suffer a mishap while on board, though; while maneuvering for a good vantage point for taking a picture, I banged my ankle hard against a “winding post” in the deck (I don't know the proper term for it, but it could have been used to wrap ropes around).  It stung for a while, but it didn't affect my walking.  Later on that day, though, it would begin to bother me, and it would drive me to cut short my outing.

After leaving the O'Brien (and being more prepared for the bouncing of the gangplank), I called my uncle Lloyd and spoke to him for a few minutes.  He had no updates on Michigan or Michigan State football games.  After that, I continued onward down the wharf.  I passed by a street vendor selling [what they were selling will have to wait until after Christmas 2004].  I wanted to visit Ghiradelli Square.  It was farther away than I thought it was, but I made it there.  I had to walk up a somewhat steep grade to get there.  Once there, I stopped at the Sharper Image store, hoping to look at wheeled luggage.  One look at the price, and I was done looking.  Around this time, my ankle started to bother me.  I sat down for a bit and rested, then walked back the way I came.  I passed the cable car turnaround and noted there were no crowds around it.  A sign at the ticket booth explained why: the line was closed.  So I walked back to a point where I could pick up the F-line trolley.  I ended up boarding an original 1912 San Francisco trolley for the return visit to Market Street.  I then went down to the BART level and got a train for the return to South San Francisco.

Back at the hotel, I put on TBS for USC versus Stanford.  I had briefly considered going to this game but decided against it.  Now suppertime was approaching, and what would I do?  I decided to search for places serving Mongolian barbecue.  I found a place, Colonel Lee's Mongolian Barbecue in Mountain View, and decided I would eat supper there.  It was some 25 miles or so away from the hotel, in or very near Silicon Valley.  It happened to be in a downtown location.  I had to go around the block twice to find the place, as it wasn't signed very well.  Once I went inside, it was clear that this was a small-scale, mom-and-pop operation.  It wasn't as fancy as BD's Mongolian Barbeque, the restaurant I frequent back in Detroit.  However, the food was very similar, and the prices were somewhat better.  What's more, here one could munch on spring roll appetizers and enjoy soup before the meal at no additional charge.  Actually, for dinner, the soup is included in the meal at BD's, but it's not included at lunchtime.  I had two bowls, one large and one small; both were good.  If I lived in the area, I would definitely come back.

Afterwards, I walked across the street to the Books Inc. store and looked around for a bit.  I didn't get anything, and so I set off on the drive back to the hotel.  It was uneventful, but the glare of the sun was getting to me.  I didn't have any sunglasses with me; I'd broken my good pair last year at the Ford centennial celebration.  It was somewhat difficult driving at times, trying to position myself so that the sun was blocked.  Still, I got back to the hotel intact.  Now it was time to engage in my weekly chat with the members of a Yahoo group devoted to Tracey Ullman.  Actually, it's normally the moderators who chat every week, and this week was no exception.  We had a lot to talk about, what with “A Dirty Shame” coming out this weekend.  Now this chat was different from the others, because it was occuring much earlier than usual for me.  It normally starts at 9:30 Eastern time, but being out west, it would start at 6:30 Pacific time.  Because I was late returning from dinner, the chat didn't start until after 7.  It ended up going later than normal, wrapping up after 10 Pacific.  I'm normally the one who ends the chat due to sleepiness, but this time, the other moderator had to call it a night first.  Next week, though, I would be home, and we would revert to our usual pattern.

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Sunday September 26

I woke up around 7:30 this morning; the ankle that I'd banged yesterday was definitely bruised and somewhat swollen.  However, it didn't particularly hurt to walk on it  After I took a shower, I pondered what I would do today.  I could decide to watch the Lions play the Eagles today; due to the time difference, the game would begin at 10 AM.  Or I could see some more California sights – specifically, the Calistoga Geyser and/or Point Reyes National Seashore.  Since my ankle wasn't bothering me that much; since I could watch the Lions all I wanted back home in Michigan; since I could get regular updates on the scoring via ESPN Radio; and since I do not visit California all that often, I decided to venture out and see the sights.

I decided to go see the geyser first.  Computing a route to the geyser had me travel up through Santa Rosa again; I thought it might have had me cross the Bay Bridge, but no.  Instead of going over to I-280 and taking Highway 1 up to the Golden Gate Bridge, I decided to go up 101 and take that through downtown.  There wasn't much traffic on a Sunday morning.  I wound my way through downtown streets and got onto Van Ness (101).  As I approached the Golden Gate Bridge, I could see a significant fog bank.  Sure enough, the bridge was shrouded in fog.  But it cleared before I made it to the other side, which gave me the idea to turn off at the vista point and take some more pictures, this time of a bridge in the fog.  Some of the headlands were in fog, but much of it was not, as I learned when I drove over there.  I was inspired to take many pictures from several vantage points.  From all of them, the sounds of foghorns could be heard.

As I drove up 101, I was listening to ESPN Radio, which was keeping its listeners informed of the progress of each football game.  Philadelphia got an early lead on Detroit, and they would never relinquish that lead.  I made a good call in not staying for the game.  After stopping at an In-N-Out Burger for lunch and driving through Santa Rosa, I took a rather scenic route from Santa Rosa over to Calistoga.  There were few guardrails along this route, so you could not make any false moves, or else.  At times, the hills and trees caused my GPS device and the XM radio to cut out.  But I eventually arrived at my destination, the Calistoga Geyser.  This geyser is one of only three in the whole world that are called “Old Faithful”; the others are in Yellowstone National Park and in New Zealand.  It normally erupts at 30-minute intervals; however, today it was erupting at 45-minutes intervals.  According to the information provided by the geyser owners, the period lengthens prior to an earthquake.  Now this earthquake could occur within 500 miles of the geyser.  Did this longer interval mean that an earthquake was imminent?  Who could say?

There were some other sights at the geyser, including a second geyser that was capped and used for heating the household, as well as “fainting goats”, so named because of their tendency to go rigid and tip over when frightened.  However, these goats no longer frightened easily, and they never fainted in my presence.  But the big attraction was Old Faithful.  I don't know how long I waited to see it, but after a few false starts, it shot its water and steam some 60 feet into the air.  At one point, while looking up, I could see an airliner, possibly on approach to San Francisco, Oakland or San Jose.  Finally, the geyser ran out of steam (literally) and quit until its next eruption.

The day was still early, so I thought I would now drive to my other desired destination, Point Reyes National Seashore.  I had the GPS sensor  plot a route for me; unfortunately, reception proved to be extremely spotty, which frustrated me to no end.  I was relying on it to route me there, and without good reception, I would have major problems.  I ended up pulling over at the Petrified Forest parking lot and re-establishing reception.  Once I did, I knew I would be backtracking today's route until Petaluma, where I would exit 101 and take a road leading to Point Reyes.  I remembered Petaluma from old Peanuts strips – didn't Snoopy compete in some arm-wrestling championships there?  The road from Petaluma to Point Reyes was rather scenic, and so was Sir Francis Drake Boulevard, which led to and through the national seashore.  But it was a long drive to the lighthouse.

I had the guidebook on Point Reyes with me, so I referred to it on vacation.  Because of that guidebook, I knew that if I drove on the Mount Vision road, I would be able to see much of the peninsula.  The guidebook was right.  I wasn't able to drive all the way up to the top because the road was blocked, but I wasn't too far from the top – the GPS said I was near 1,000 feet.  The road was narrow and steep in places, and there were no guardrails.  But there were a could of turnoffs, and I stopped at one of them to take some pictures and video.  I could see the two shores, the western and southern shores, simultaneously.  I could see how far away the lighthouse would be.  So I set off in that direction.  As I drove, I passed by a number of ranches, for the land used to be mainly ranchland.  Again, there were few if any guardrails along the road, so drivers had to be very careful not to be distracted by the ocean view.

Eventually, I reached the Point Reyes lighthouse.  Cars could not drive up to it; there was a half-mile walk from the parking area.  The lighthouse and visitor center closed at 4:30, and it was already 4:10.  I had very little time to visit.  And when I arrived at the lighthouse, I saw that it was at the bottom of a 300-step staircase.  No way was I going to climb that!  Down would not have been a problem, but up?  Up would definitely have been a problem, especially in the time left.  So I just contented myself with pictures and video from the top of the staircase and admiring the view.  This point was now the farthest west I'd ever been in my life.

I drove back to San Francisco by way of Highway 1.  It, too, was a very scenic highway, hugging the coastline very tightly in places.  I would not want to drive it in foggy conditions, for it would be all too easy to drive off the edge.  I listened to the Sunday night football game featuring the Oakland Raiders, who were playing at home this late afternoon.

Highway 1 traffic through San Francisco was quite heavy.  But it thinned out, and I made it to 280 and San Bruno without much difficulty.  I stopped at Albertson's for some more grape juice and V-8, and then I stopped at La Salsa for dinner.  La Salsa specializes in freshly prepared Mexican food, on the order of Baja Fresh back in Detroit.  I had a burrito and some lemonade.

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Monday September 27

I was feeling a little tired today; I felt like I needed another down day during vacation.  Well, I had been pretty busy the last three days, and there were some things I definitely needed to do.  One thing was to recharge my digital camera batteries, which I did overnight.  Once I did that, I transferred the pictures I'd taken this weekend to iPhoto, and then I proceeded to identify them.  Now I didn't go to any film developer this time, but identifying the pictures seemed more difficult.  Not only did I need to include comments, I also needed to create an informative name for each picture.  I didn't want to have each photo called by the default name of IMG_xxxx.JPG.  While I was identifying the pictures, I had CNN on in the background.  The big story was the aftermath of hurricane Jeanne in Florida.  Good thing I didn't go to Florida for my vacation!

When I left the hotel this morning, my first stop was the Barnes and Noble bookstore in Colma for some reading material for the return trip.  The big business in Colma is funerals and burials.  The vast majority of the land is given over to cemeteries of all faiths – there is even a pet cemetery there.  There are undoubtedly more dead there than there are living.  At the bookstore, I found quite a bit, actually; some was computer-related, and another was an alternate-history novel by Harry Turtledove: “Ruled Britannia”.  Then it was on to the Office Depot near the Serramonte shopping center for my most important purchases of the day: a box, and some strapping tape.  My bags were very full on the outbound trip, and there was no way I could put anything else in them.  I needed to ship a lot back home, and I needed a big box to do that.  Fortunately, Office Depot had plenty of boxes and tape, and I found what I needed pretty rapidly.  Then it was on to my next stop, the Target store at the Serramonte center.  There were some things I needed to get for sending overseas to my sister in Turkey – specifically, People and Us magazines, which are not common over there.  I ended up having to visit Long's Drugs (the San Francisco equivalent to Walgreen's or CVS) for one of the magazines, but I got them both.  I also found a San Francisco calendar for myself; that'll get good use in 2005.

Now what to do for lunch?  I briefly considered having something at the food court but decided against it.  I could have such food anywhere.  Best to have something that I wouldn't be able to find around Detroit.  So for the third time in a week, I ate at Fresh Choice.  There was one across the freeway.  Oddly enough, it was in the same shopping center as a Target.  Yes, there were two Target stores about a half-mile or less from each other.  Strange.  While making my salad selections, I was in line behind two young women with young children, speaking what sounded like Swedish.  The food was OK, but I had reached my limit for Fresh Choice.  For the rest of my trip, I would have no desire to go back there.  Then it was time to go back to the hotel, where I would attempt to fill the box with stuff to ship.  Filling it was not a problem.

Tonight, I would attend my second baseball game of my vacation, the Oakland A's against the Seattle Mariners.  I would use public transportation to get to this game, just as I did for the Giants-Astros game.  Around 4 o'clock, I drove off to the BART station in South San Francisco; I was getting to learn this route very well.  I took the train into town but exited at the Powell Street station in San Francisco, for it was too early to go all the way to the stadium.  I wandered around for a bit, walking into the Macy's men's store near Union Square.  While there, I noticed something: they appeared to have sunglasses just like the ones I'd broken last year.  What luck!  I waited for the clerk to wait on me, and then I pointed out the ones I wanted.  They were Ray-Bans, but they weren't the ones for driving which I'd had for 15 years or longer.  Still, they were close enough, and there were times where I really could have used those sunglasses on this trip, so I bought them.  I ended up wearing them as I left the store and walked down the street to the Virgin Megastore.  Here, I would buy the soundtrack to “A Dirty Shame”.  That would go into my pocket along with the case for the sunglasses as I returned to the BART line for the rest of the trip to the stadium.

This would be the first time I would ride BART to the East Bay, and thus it was the first time I went through the Transbay Tube.  There wasn't anything to see; it was just a long, dark tunnel through which the train traveled very fast.  I've done that on the Eurostar train in the Channel Tunnel.  Once in Oakland, the train traveled on the surface most of the time until it reached the Coliseum station.  A lot of people got off the train there.  The station was connected to the stadium by a long walkway that rose above railroad tracks and other industrial sites.  Certainly not as picturesque a setting as SBC Park!

I had some trouble finding the Will Call windows; they were on the opposite site of the Coliseum from the walkway.  But eventually, I found the window, and I went inside.  Now this stadium was an older stadium, a multipurpose stadium.  You could still see the football markings from last night's game.  My seat was right behind home plate in the second level, closer to the action than at SBC Park.  I had no natural rooting interests in the game, unlike at SBC Park, so I could go along with the crowd and cheer heartily for the A's.  Several foul balls came close to me, including one that fell right behind me.  If I'd leaned back, I might have had a chance at it, but self-preservation instincts made me lean forward.  The game was close all night, and it ended when Oakland rookie Bob Crosby hit a sacrifice fly, allowing a run to score and breaking a tie.  The A's fans went home happy that night.

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Tuesday September 28

The most important thing I had to do today was to go to the post office and mail that package.  I chose to go to the Brisbane post office.  It was a heavy package, and it was very expensive to mail ($38!), but it was something I had to do.  As I left, I wondered if the package would beat me home.  I hoped it would.

Now how to spend my last full day in the Bay Area?  I'd picked up a flyer for the USS Hornet, an aircraft carrier now serving as a museum in Alameda.  It had a discount admission coupon, and I decided I would use it.  So I drove up US 101, which would lead me to the Bay Bridge.  Now I'd never driven over the Bay Bridge before, and I remembered that part of the upper deck had fallen onto the lower deck during the 1989 quake, so I was a bit nervous driving over it.  Outbound traffic used the lower deck and did not have to pay a toll.  Eventually, I was in Oakland, and I found the exit for Alameda.  Actually, there was more than one exit, but the one I wanted was for the tunnel route.  Once on the island, I followed the signs for the Hornet.  Unfortunately, when I got there, I got a rude surprise:  the Hornet was closed today for a private event.  It was closed for several days, in fact.  If I'd visited the Website beforehand, I would have seen this and not attempted the trip.  So I turned around and went back to Oakland, where I drove down I-880 towards San Jose.

While driving, I had to use the restroom.  Since I was also in need of some gas, I found a Shell station, where I filled up the car and emptied out myself.  Then it was back on the freeway, where I was listening to 60's on 6 on XM.  Around 10:40 or so, the DJ said you should turn to the news channels for reports about the earthquake in California.  This was definitely news to me, for I didn't notice anything unusual.  I put on either CNN or Fox News for an update.  Apparently, the quake was along the central California coast, and there were some reports of it being felt in the Bay Area.  That led me to put on KCBS, who were covering the story rather heavily, understandably.  It happened at 10:15; at that time, I think I was leaving Alameda via that tunnel.

When I arrived at my destination (the Fry's store in Campbell, a San Jose suburb), I called my uncle Lloyd and aunt Marie, letting them know what happened and that I wasn't affected.  This Fry's store seemed smaller than the Sunnyvale store or the Houston and Chicago stores, though it was being remodeled.  I didn't stay here long, 'cause I didn't see anything I wanted or needed.  I then drove up to the Valley Fair mall in Santa Clara.  I had been here on my first visit to the area back in 1994, and I could tell it had been expanded since then.  I didn't recall any parking decks back in '94, but there were a lot of them now.  The inside had been fancied up and expanded, as well.  I ended up having lunch here, choosing Japanese food from the food court.  Then it was off to the Fry's in Sunnyvale again, but like this morning, they didn't have what I was looking for.  So I went back to the hotel.

Later that afternoon or evening, I went to the Best Buy in Colma looking for some of the new DVD's that came out today.  I did see some of them that I was interested in, but I decided not to get any.  I would have to carry them on the train with me, and my bags were already going to be quite full and quite heavy.  So I left without getting anything and stopped at a Jack In The Box on El Camino for supper.  I went through the drive-thru line and brought my burger back to the hotel.  After eating, it was time to pack for the trip home.

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Wednesday September 29

This was it; this was the day I would begin to return home from California.  It was the effective end of my vacation, but not the official end; Friday would be the last day of vacation, not counting weekends.  I was already mostly packed, so all I needed to do was to shower, do a final e-mail check, pack the last few things, and check out.  Now my train would leave Emeryville at 9:35 AM, so I had to make sure I was there in plenty of time.  In fact, I had to be there by 9, for that's when I had said I would return the rental car.

I checked out of the hotel at 7:50 and left at 8.  Based on what I heard on the traffic reports, I didn't expect any problems on my drive.  And there weren't, not until the 101 freeway passed I-280.  Then traffic slowed to a crawl all the way to the Bay Bridge.  At times, I was somewhat concerned that I wouldn't make it there in time.  I was listening to KCBS the whole time (the satellite radio was safely packed away; I didn't want to leave that behind).  One of the stories they were following was the spaceflight attempt by Spaceship One; this would be the first of two flight attempts to qualify for the Ansari X Prize.  At first, the news was good: the launch had happened, and the flight was looking good.  Then after a commercial, there was a report that it had made several corkscrews; that didn't sound good.  But the problem, if it was a problem, was overcome, and the craft did make it into space.  It would fly again the following Monday and win the X Prize; of course, I didn't know that at the time.

The traffic finally broke loose on the lower deck of the Bay Bridge.  I didn't have any problems crossing, and I made sure to get into the proper lane for the Emeryville exit.  I arrived at the rental car place right at 9, but there was a problem: all the parking spots on the street  in front of the place were taken.  Several were taken by a Pepsi truck making a delivery.  What to do?  I parked the car at the nearby parking lot, paid for a half-hour, remembered the space number I had parked in, and went over to the rental car agency.  Another problem: the office was locked up.  Now what would I do?  The train would leave shortly, and there was no drop box for the keys.  I did receive some help from a gentleman who didn't work in the office; he took care of the cars.  He was about to write up a receipt saying I'd returned the car when the agent finally pulled up.  It was the same agent I'd rented the car from.  Due to time constraints, I told him to mail the receipt to me.  I then walked across the street to the Emeryville train station, bought a Chronicle, then went inside.

The train was already boarding, I learned, so I immediately went out onto the platform, found car 631, and got on board.  The steps were wet, so I had to watch my footing.  I was in berth 10 on the right-hand side of the car.  This would be the opposite side of the train from where I sat on the outbound trip, so I would get to see the sights I'd missed the first time.  The train left two minutes behind schedule.  For this portion of the trip, the other side of the train had the better view, for one could see San Francisco Bay and San Francisco.  My side of the train had Berkeley, Richmond and other East Bay suburbs.  At one point, I saw a large group of young schoolchildren alongside the track; perhaps it was a class seeing the train off.  Later, I saw the “mothball fleet” docked in Suisun Bay.

At times, my throat felt somewhat strange, like I was trying to get a cold.  The feeling passed but would return.  This didn't bode well for me.  Then again, if I was getting a cold, better to do so at the end of my vacation than at the start!

The clouds that were in the Bay Area at the start of the trip broke up on the way to Sacramento.  While traveling between Martinez and Sacramento, I saw something unusual: an airliner, or what appeared to be an airliner, flying straight and level at a very low altitude.  It paralled the train for a while in the distance, and then it did a slow 180-degree turn.  Instantly, horrible thoughts popped into my mind, thoughts of a hijacked plane turning around for an attack on San Francisco.  Looking at my California Zephyr guidebooks put my mind at ease, for Travis Air Force Base was nearby.  It could have been a military transport plane out on a practice flight.  As we passed through Sacramento, I hoped to get a glimpse of the state capitol building, but no such luck.

Onward the train went through the Sierra Nevada.  Through the westernmost part of it, I got to see what I could not see before, on either side of the train.  The outbound train had traveled this area in darkness, but this time it was still light out.

When the train passed through Reno, I wanted to take a picture of the famous sign/arch that extends across one of its roads: “Reno: The Biggest Little City In The World.”  I did take a picture, but it didn't turn out very well, for the train was too close to the sign, and it was moving too quickly.  The partial shot of the sign was blurry.  I had a video camera running at the same time, and that may have gotten a less-blurry shot of it.  While we were stopped, I was inspired to pull out my laptop and see if there were any wireless networks around.  I eventually found one that I could connect to, and I retrieved my e-mail and even sent one out.  We pulled out and headed eastward.  I stayed in my room most of the time, only venturing out for dinner and for restroom breaks.  When I returned from dinner, the bed had been prepared for me.  I read for a while and then called it a night.

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Thursday September 30

There was no doubt about it now:  I had a cold.  And other than generic Tylenol, I had no medicines for it.  Two days of misery loomed.

I did not have a good night's sleep overnight.  But this did enable me to be awake as we pulled into Salt Lake City.  I saw a building called “Utah International Hostel”, and once we pulled into the train station, I noticed that on the next track over were cars for the American Orient Express, a luxury train.  I didn't know if this was a base of operations for the train, if it was just visiting, or what. I did use this as an opportunity to attempt to take pictures of it with my digital camera.  I experimented with the settings to see how the photos would turn out.  Most of them turned out poorly and were immediately erased.  But I did take a couple that appeared to be good quality.  After we pulled out, I could hear something being slid under my door.  It was a USA Today newspaper, picked up in Salt Lake City, no doubt.

When breakfast was served at 7 this morning, I had a southwestern omelet.  Unfortunately, it wasn't as good as I thought it would be.  I thought the omelet I had on the outbound train was better.  Then again, my cold may have influenced my perceptions.  As the train progressed eastward, we stopped in the town of Helper.  I got off for a stretch and for some fresh air; there was a bit of a chill in the air, so I didn't stay out there too long.  Mainly, I stayed in my cabin, sipped on water or juice, read, and took pictures and video as the scenery dictated.  The assistant conductor mentioned that a rare cold-water geyser was erupting on the left side of the train.  Unfortunately, I was on the right side and missed seeing it.  I was able to see the site of a future national park, though: the San Rafael Swells, which contain many Indian artifacts.

Ruby Canyon in Colorado was very picturesque; on the outbound train, we passed through in darkness, so this was my first time to see it.  There were times when I just let the video camera run for several minutes without comment.  Perhaps I should set that to music – specifically, the William Tell Overture, a.k.a. The Lone Ranger theme.  I wouldn't have been too surprised to see a masked man and his faithful Indian companion riding their horses out there...

In the middle of the day, I was feeling quite tired because of my lack of sleep last night.  My nose was beginning to get stuffy, too; that's part of the way colds affect me – first the sore throat, then that's replaced by a stuffy nose.  But I didn't want to take a nap and miss all of the scenery in Colorado.  I transferred more pictures from the camera to the Powerbook and identified them as best I could.

When dinnertime came, my tablemates were all from California.  I'd mentioned I was returning from vacation, what I'd seen, etc.  The youngest one , who was from Santa Rosa, said that he'd waited on Charles Schulz once in a previous job of his.  I was rather chilly in there, so I had to go back and get my jacket.  That was definitely a sign of the cold.  If I'd been well, I might have had the T-bone steak, but I felt like eating lighter, so I just had pasta.  But I didn't eat TOO lightly, for I had cheesecake for dessert.  We were eating as the train was approaching Denver, and we got a good view of the lights of the city laid out below us.

After we pulled into Denver, I got off and took some more nighttime pictures.  The only one that came out well, though, was one where I had pressed the camera against a fence and used that to steady it.  All the others suffered from camera shake.  After I got back on board, I pulled out the Powerbook to see if there was a wireless network I could connect to; there wasn't.  I did hear a police officer come through the train asking passengers if they'd seen a particular girl.  For some reason, he missed me; but I hadn't seen any young girls on this trip.

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Friday October 1

I did sleep more this night than last, although it was still not as sound as it could have been.  I was also kept up by a clogged sinus that did not want to unclog.  I do recall dreaming about my mother and seeing her with all of the TV's that we'd ever owned.  Now why would I dream about that?

We pulled into Omaha around 7, and I got off for some fresh air.  This was my first time on the ground in Nebraska (big whoop).  The car attendant gave us each an Omaha newspaper; the lead story was the presidential debate, which we missed last night 'cause we were on the train.  I turned to the sports section – the playoff races are down to the wire now.  Houston and San Francisco are tied for the wild card berth with 3 games to go (not against each other).

Today, we'd be traveling through Iowa and Illinois.  Compared to the first two days, the landscape here was for the most part flat farmland, but that allowed us to go faster.  But we didn't appear to be making up any time.  I was getting a bit concerned that I would miss the train to Detroit.  But as we neared the western suburbs of Chicago, I began to feel more confident that we would get there in time.

At last, we arrived at Union Station just before 5:30.  I had a half-hour before the train to Detroit would leave, so I knew I would make it home tonight.  Once again, I put my laptop bag on my back and carried the other bag with alternate arms.  The train for Detroit wasn't boarding yet, so I went into the main station and paid a visit to the newsstand, where I got that day's Sun-Times.  Unfortunately, they didn't have any nose spray, so I would still have to contend with a stuffed nose.  I'd also have to contend with a long boarding line, prompting fears that the train was overbooked.  It wasn't.  We boarded about 10 minutes late, but that wasn't a big problem for me.

As soon as the snack car opened, there was a big rush to the back, and a long line developed.  It wouldn't die down for a couple of hours.  Everyone was getting supper, no doubt.  Eventually, I went back and ordered two hot dogs and some iced tea.  It wasn't as fancy as dining car food, but it was good enough.  Besides, I was tired of dining car food by then.

A little after midnight, we pulled into Dearborn.  My car was still there, covered with dust but otherwise unharmed.  It felt much different from the Cavalier I'd been driving for the past week, and it took me a while to get used to my car again.  It took me 25 minutes to get home – home, sweet home.  I didn't go to bed immediately, though; I checked my e-mail and sent out a short note to those who should know that I was home.

The next day, I would receive my held mail.  That included the package I sent last Tuesday; it beat me home.

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©2004 R. W. Reini.    All rights reserved.

Written by Roger Reini
Revised April 20, 2008