Story: I'll Take the Train....

With sunrise still hours away, passengers amble into the lobby of the Newton, Kansas, Amtrak station. The north-bound Chicago-to-Los Angeles Southwest Chief is scheduled to arrive at 3:01AM; I'll board the south-bound train for San Bernardino at 3:25 to see a new granddaughter.

"Well, it's supposed to be here at 3:25," said the station master as she jotted down my name. "It's not usually that precise." The tidy and slightly campy Newton station maintains a graveyard schedule, only open between 1:30 and 4:00 AM every day.

It's the beginning of spring break, and the station fills with the muffled sounds of excited children being shushed by bleary-eyed parents and the shuffling of people and baggage. I notice some are toting blankets, pillows and grocery sacks along with their luggage, and realize this is going to be a different kind of travel than I am accustom to. As three o'clock passes, we look up and down the tracks, wondering which train will arrive first.

A couple wrapped in a blanket embrace in the chilly morning air on the platform. Teenagers on the wooden benches inside talk quietly on cell phones, although who they might be talking to at this hour is a mystery. A child asks why the train is late. "Maybe there are cows on the tracks," says his sleepy father. "I don't know."

The Chicago-bound Chief rolls in first, about 3:20, and a few dozen passengers exchange places between the platform and the train. Twenty minutes later the California-bound Chief arrives and I join the mosh-pit of travelers as we make our way up the tiny, spiral-like staircase from the lower level to the upper coach deck full of snoozing passengers who boarded on earlier stops. An attendant checks our names against a list and tells us where to settle in.

The stop takes less than five minutes but does not seem at all hurried, unlike the adrenaline-stoked running of passengers through airport security corrals. There is no ticket window or checked baggage service at the Newton station, so ticketing is handled by the conductors once the train is underway again. The first real sensation of movement is seeing the lights of the Newton station slip toward the rear of the train as we roll toward California.

"Patience," said one veteran train traveler, a television advertising producer, when I asked what advice he would offer a first-time rider. "It's a great way to travel, but you can't be in a hurry. Bring a book."

Well, I did better than that -- I brought two books. Plus two magazines, three or four movies, a laptop, a couple little cameras, some notebooks & pens and a big wad of cash for drinks in the lounge car. With the prospect of a 24-hour trip stretching before me, I was prepared to meet boredom head-on.

But boredom eluded me. I didn't open either book, I read exactly one half of a short magazine article and I didn't even considered watching a movie. I took some notes but didn't write any letters or start my next novel, and I didn't drink myself silly like I sometimes do when I'm unoccupied or my wife's not around.

Let me say for the record: Train travel isn't boring. If you are bored while traveling by train, you are probably a boring person and you would be bored whether on a train or not. Certainly, it takes a fair amount of stamina and patience. Add to that a measure of tolerance, a pinch of curiosity and, most necessarily, the skill to converse -- and to graciously end conversations -- with strangers. Because conversation with fellow travelers is going to happen.

Now, I'm a journalist by trade and training. I enjoy sticking my nose into other people's business and, even better, I get paid to do it. So it's no big deal for me to sidle up to folks and ask them to tell me their life stories or poke a camera in their faces. Well, most train travelers have no qualms about doing the same thing, except for maybe the camera part and getting paid for it.

Perfect strangers on trains will chat like family about pretty much anything, I think, because hours of containment in a chain of steel carriages rocking and swaying down the tracks, with everyone sleeping and eating and bouncing along together, causes a family-like rapport to develop. Actually, it's better than family. If a particular passenger is anything like some of my family members, there is always the hope they might get off at the next stop. It's a great way to put your social skills to the test.

And it's a great way to test your equilibrium. I would wander from coach through the lounge and dining cars bobbing and lurching as though I had spent most of my morning swilling tequila in the lounge car. The train is an amazingly smooth ride, except for those rare stretches of track that felt like we were gliding along a washboard. For the most part, however, the cars would sway and bob independent of one another as the pitch and yaw of the tracks would work its way from one end of the train to the other while perambulating passengers would bounce around like pinballs. It was an amazing thing to witness dining car attendants pour hot coffee into my cup and not into my lap as the car pitched unpredictably.

The dining car experience is certainly a highlight of rail travel. Full menus for breakfast, lunch and dinner were as elegant or as simple as one would expect in most fine restaurants, as were the prices. I had a wonderfully cooked, medium-rare flatiron steak, baked potato, vegetable medley, dinner roll, a very fresh spring salad, a glass of wine, all followed by a miraculously poured cup of coffee for under $35.

This had been prepared by a reclusive chef, whom I never met, in a kitchen the size of a long, narrow walk-in closet in the lower deck. And this lone chef prepares meals three times daily for over 200 passengers. I had my meal within 15 minutes of placing my order.

Breakfast is a sort of come-as-you-are, whenever-you-want affair, roughly between 6:00 to 9:00 AM, depending on scheduled stops and time-zone changes. Lunch and dinner are by reservation in fifteen minute increments, made a few hours before the dining car opens for business. It was refreshing that I could choose when, what or if I wanted to eat, as opposed to being offered a tray with a stale ham sandwich, a cup of fruit, a bag o' nuts and can of soda.

On the other hand, if one is prone to a more casual, convenience-store style of dining, AmTrak has that base covered, too. The "Cafe" is below the "Observation Deck," collectively known as the "Lounge Car." Old timers refer to it as the "Club Car." Whatever it's called, it rides behind the dinning car and ahead of the coach cars.

Although all I purchased in the Cafe was a bag of peanut M&Ms, a beer and a little shot-size bottle of Jim Beam (note to AmTrak: stock some tequila), Cafe regulars told me the food is no better or worse than what one might expect. Cafe customers appeared to be of the college student variety or families with kids in tow, whose dining habits are more spontaneous, whose hunger is less predictable or perhaps whose economic situation is more humble than patrons of the dining car. However, if one is inclined to spend $12.50 on a cold beer, a shot of whiskey and some M&Ms to munch while watching the scenery go by at 60 miles an hour from the the observation deck, the cafe is where to find it.

And the observation deck is the place to be when you're in a social frame of mind. The seats, in pairs or in clusters of three or four, face both starboard and port and swivel to encourage -- or discourage -- conversation, whichever is your wont. The multiple windows are the size of big picture windows in a very short house. The scenery is as good as any you would find in whatever state you'd be driving through if you were in your car, except there's no concrete and the traffic is moving in the same direction, unless another train zips past on a parallel track an arm's length away if you could open the window, which you can’t.

Many people spend all day on the observation deck playing cards, conversing, taking pictures of their reflections in the windows or talking on phones -- another advantage, or disadvantage, depending on one's perspective, over air travel. Some spend the night stretched out on the floor or across the seats. One night sleeping in coach is okay; two nights is a real challenge.

The sleeping cars offer three options, from dinky but functional "sleepettes," about the size of a kitchen pantry, to smallish, camper-size "bedrooms," which AmTrak claims can sleep four, complete with sink, shower and toilet. The sleeping cars, engineered with an amazingly efficient use of space, offer privacy and include three meals a day in the dining car.

AmTrak has a very convenient way of pricing for tickets and amenities. According to the AmTrak.com, "...The total price for a trip with sleeping accommodations is a combination of Coach Class rail fare (usually the lowest available rail fare) plus the accommodations charge. When two or more passengers share a sleeping car, each passenger must pay a rail fare, but only one accommodations charge applies. In other words, the passengers occupying a sleeping car share the accommodations charge."

The sleeping cars ride forward, between engine and the dining car where there is less wobble and sway -- think of the conga line at your last office party -- and the coach cars ride toward the rear. While there is a degree of camaraderie and social opportunities in coach that travelers in the sleeping cars won't experience, I am certain the sleepers sleep better.

Many predict an increase in passenger rail traffic over the next decade, primarily due to ever increasing fuel prices. If that is so, my fellow Americans, we need to get to the gym. Our ever increasing girth, mine included, is going to determine who can comfortably ride cross-country in a train and who is better off traveling to San Bernardino in a Lincoln Town Car. There is a fixed amount of space in an AmTrak passenger car: to maximize comfort, sacrifices have been made in the width of isles, the space between dining car seat and table and the distance between a toilet and the door your knees are almost touching. When two people meet going both fore and aft, one usually has to back up and suck it in.

A few tips:
1. Everyone has a cell phone, every cell phone needs a charger. Bring an extension cord and/or power strip, especially if you'll also be toting a laptop, iPod, DVD player, camera, vibrator, whatever. Sleeping cars have one 120-volt outlet in each room. Coach has only one outlet, total, per car; I saw three outlets in the lounge car, and those three outlets had maybe eight things being charged at any given time thanks to a power strip and extension cord someone thoughtfully provided. A two-to-three-prong adapter might also be helpful since the outlets on the train are two-prongers only.

2. Ear plugs. Especially if you expect to get some sleep in coach. While the train itself is much quieter than I expected and, for the most part, my fellow travelers were extremely considerate, babies do cry, children will get restless, people snore, passengers board in the middle of the night and, believe it or not, some seem to think that two o'clock in the morning is the perfect time to talk on the phone.

3. One word: breath mints. Okay that's two words, but you get my point. If you're going to bore someone to death with your life story -- and you will -- at least let them remember you as the bore with the minty-fresh breath.

4. Organize your bags according to what you'll need on the train. Luggage for your primary destination may not be very accessible, being stored in the lower level of your car along with everyone else's. Keep the stuff you'll want in an en route bag stowed overhead. If you leave your tooth brush in your checked bag, be sure to double up on tip #3.

5. Bring a blanket and pillow. You'll be glad you did. The conductors pass out pillows the size of large marshmallows but are essentially useless for anything beyond being a nice gesture. However, I did see one kid who swiped about 30 little pillows while people were away from their seats and feathered for himself a nice, fluffy nest.

6. Food. Yes, you can bring food on board. Alcohol, too, if you're in a sleeping car or only take your nips in the lounge car. The crew will not keep your beer on ice or zap your burrito in a microwave, so only bring things you like to eat at room temperature. Many families carried small coolers with juice, sodas, sandwiches and yogurt. Bottled water is as overpriced on a train as it is everywhere else, but you can refill those bottles from fountains on every car.

Even though the crew won’t pop your popcorn, I found them to be very professional and efficient, thoroughly outgoing, helpful, friendly, courteous and kind. Most are as gregarious as any passenger. (Keep in mind that I didn’t meet the reclusive chef, whom had been refered to as “Grumpy” or “Scrooge” or something like that.) I only met one who had been working on the railroad fewer than 10 years, and most appear to descend from multiple generations of railroad parentage.

Amtrak is compliant with the Americans with Disabilities Act, but the amenities are fewer. The lower level of most coach cars have wheelchair tie-downs and assistance is provided for necessities.

Amtrak's website, http://www.amtrak.com/, is a good resource for information beyond making reservations. There is advice on how to plan your trip, a description of the coach, dining and lounge cars and virtual tour of a sleeper car. There are route maps, schedules and even a list of classic, train-themed movies to get you in the mood.

Now, if I can just get that Arlo Guthrie song out of my mind...