We almost didn’t make it out of Seattle after all. At the Amtrak ticket counter they cheerfully informed us that our entire set of tickets were issued at the beginning of the trip. Huh? We don’t have them, nobody told us that!
The solution – fork over several grand for new tickets. Next plan, quick rip apart luggage so carefully packed the night before, hoping to find them. We did find them and somewhere between the ticket counter and the boarding line I LOST mine… again. While tearing though my bags, one more time, I heard my name on the loudspeaker. A conductor had found them on the floor.
So on the train again, great steak dinner, a few cocktails, and incredible scenery through the Cascade mountains. For some reason the God of trains didn’t think that 6:15 am the next morning wasn’t early enough and decided in his infinite wisdom to that we should get off at 5:30 am instead. The attended informed us with a tap on the door at 5:20. Don’t know about you but I have no problem with waking up from a dead sleep at O’dark thirty, packing up and deboarding in 10 minutes. Do it all the time, riiiiggght. I feel pretty damn slick that I got off with my shoes on the right feet.
Just to make life interesting. Mother couldn’t find her ticket again. After a frantic search she found it in her boot. Evidently she didn’t feel it in there when she jammed them on in a rush at 5:20 am.
So here we are in the Sacramento train station. Not the best place to spend 5 hours. Everything is just a bit off. This guy in the picture, for example, spent an hour pacing around talking to himself. And yes that is what it looks like hanging out the back of his pants. Some days are just weird.