OUT OF TOWN ON A RAIL

Mountain scenery across from Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. (Photo credit: The Weekly Opine)

A magnificent week away from “The Hawk.”

In Chicago, the howling, stiff winter wind is known as “The Hawk.” And from late-January until mid-February, “The Hawk,” and attendant bitter cold temperatures and piles of snow, make even the heartiest middle-age souls scoot along at a faster pace than their creaky bodies prefer.

Sometimes people walk down the street comforted by the protection of tall buildings, until they turn the corner and into the direct path of a teeth-chattering blast of air that leaves them gasping for breath. “The Hawk” packs a punch, like a powerful uppercut to the face courtesy of the great boxer Joe Frazier.

The wrong kind of history

Chicago winters are rarely (if ever) delightful and the winter of 2018-2019 is going in the record books. In addition to total snowfall tracking 15 inches above normal so far, the region was the recipient of a record-breaking arctic blast a few weeks ago.

The week of January 28th was a testament to just how extreme things can get around here, with the thermometer dipping well below zero, at one point minus 25 degrees with a windchill of minus 50. You’ve heard the saying “time stood still?” The last week in January, in Chicago, things were “frozen still.”

And of course, everyone wants to know what negative 20 degrees feels like, right? So, I bundled up and wandered down to the sidewalk. I took pictures and, after just a few of minutes, high-stepped it back to the front porch, taking one look back before bouncing into the house. Three layers was no match for minus 20.

It was so cold my internet was knocked out for two days, causing The Weekly Opine to miss the 12 noon Thursday posting deadline for the first time since the blog launched.

Fortunately, about a month before the vaunted polar vortex came calling, I booked a trip to South Florida.

All aboard!

The week after Thanksgiving, back in 2017, I took my first overnight Amtrak train trip. Travelling round trip to Washington D.C. in the sleeper car roomette was a delightful experience, so much so I did it again last September travelling to New York City and back.

To answer the question of whether (or not) I can handle a two-night trek to the West Coast, I chose to travel by rail to Miami Beach a couple of weeks ago. It involved a two-night trip, with a stop in D.C. to change trains and regroup, if needed, before heading to Miami.

On Tuesday evening, February 5, the train pulled out of Chicago’s Union Station a few minutes late at just past 6:45. Forty-five minutes later, after a nice meal of penne pasta and chicken mixed with opening night camaraderie with other passengers, I settled into my roomette (I liken it to a space capsule; cozy but not quite spacious). I sipped wine and watched the landscape roll by.

Unlike flying, train travel is a leisurely experience. Going by rail is a more integral part of the trip than flying (I noticed this more acutely when I returned from Florida, which I will explain later). Two nights to get to Miami and two nights to get back to Chicago equaled the four nights I stayed in Florida. Travelling by train was undoubtedly a distinct component of the overall experience.

One thing you notice on the train is that homes located near the tracks, regardless of whether they are in isolated rural areas, small towns or medium-size cities, are lower income and not the nicest homes in town.

The breathtaking beauty of the landscape and mountains in southwest Pennsylvania and West Virginia are offset by intermittent and stunning abject poverty. It is as bad as anything in poverty-stricken sections on the West Side of Chicago.

Small clusters of dilapidated mobile homes surrounded by piles of trash and junk suggest desperate living on life’s literal fringe. Seeing the depth of this poverty evokes empathy and frankly, a recognition of why someone in this condition would support Trump (or Obama), or any candidate promising that if elected, the candidate will improve their lives. 

A counterbalance to the extreme poverty is Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. Harpers Ferry is a quaint reflection of history, the site of abolitionist John Brown’s raid in 1859, which contributed to the start of the Civil War. Nestled at the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers, Harpers Ferry has less than 500 residents. The Blue Ridge Mountains provide a breathtaking scenic backdrop.

We arrived in D.C. later that next afternoon and after a 90-minute layover boarded the train headed to South Florida!

That feels better

Around 9 p.m. on Wednesday we rolled through Rocky Mount, North Carolina. I looked out the window and noticed kids playing ball. They were wearing short-sleeve shirts and shorts. I checked the weather app on my phone. It was 70 degrees.

The next morning, we rolled into Jacksonville, Florida. I was up early so the attendant could re-configure my bed back into two facing seats. The Jacksonville stop was a designated smoking stop, meaning passengers had about 20-minutes to de-train and get some fresh air.

Even at 7 a.m., the temperature was in the upper 60’s. I walked back and forth next to the train (you do not want to wander into the station and have the train pull off without you). Others jogged back and forth, and one woman brought her small dog outside the train for a relief walk.

Twelve hours later, after zigzagging from Jacksonville to Orlando to Tampa and finally back to the ocean side of the state, we pulled into Miami.

How sweet it is!

My friend picked me up at 6:30 p.m. and as we drove to the Miami Beach condominium that he and his wife own, I looked at the glistening Miami skyline and thought of the great Jackie Gleason, who used to say, “How sweet it is!”

Late Friday morning, sloshing around (up to my knees) in the Atlantic Ocean with the temperature at 78 degrees was a delight, as was taking a dip in the condo pool, despite never looking worse in swim trunks in my life.

A trip to Naples for a day and a half to attend Indiana University’s Winter College was informative and fun, as was the realization I’d gone from being mesmerized by the Atlantic Ocean to staring at the Gulf of Mexico!

On the way back from Naples to Miami Beach, my friend, his wife and I stopped to see alligators – and we did – and capped off the trip with a delicious BBQ meal at a restaurant called The Pit, on the outskirts of Miami. The Pit is part dive restaurant, part open-air music venue and cranks out sweet salsa music, dancing and awesome ribs and chicken.

A trip down Ocean Drive gave me a look at South Beach for the first time in 20 years. And I was happy to see the South Seas Hotel is still kickin’!

Monday morning at the train station, I said goodbye to my friend who, along with his wife, are terrific people. A gracious, down-to-earth, kind couple who are a joy to spend time with.

The train’s advantage

Have you experienced leaving a warm climate, hopping on a plane, and two or three hours later you are facing “The Hawk” again? Well, the train mitigates return angst.

Leaving Miami on Monday morning, we traveled all day before we arrived in Jacksonville. So, for eight hours we were in sunny, warm weather, getting off the train several times to soak it in. It wasn’t until South Carolina that things began to cool off.

By the time we hit D.C. Tuesday morning, it was raining and a raw 50 degrees. An eight-hour layover allowed me to check my bags at Amtrak’s first-class lounge and take a cab to the breakfast buffet at the Capitol Hilton, followed by a walk past the White House to lunch at Old Ebbitt Grill.

The train pulled out of D.C. late afternoon, destined for Union Station Chicago, which we arrived at an hour late on Wednesday morning.

Yes, there was still snow on the ground in Chicago. But the train ride and the transition along the way, from sunny and warm to rainy and raw to finally looking out the window at snow on the ground in Ohio and Indiana, provided ample warning. Not at all like the shock of stepping off a plane just three hours removed from 80 degrees.

The other advantage training has over flying is you meet some very interesting people and have time to hang out with them in the dining car and/or bar car.

Among the people I met, included a woman from Rochester, New York who is a champion ballroom dancer, on track to qualify for the world championships. Met a mom who recently relocated to Orlando with her husband from Long Island. Her accent made me feel like I was talking with Rosie O’Donnell, it was great! Met a woman from Boston who had a distinct, Kennedy-esque Boston accent. And a very nice couple heading home to D.C., whose sleeper roomette was next to mine.

When you drive as much as I do, sliding along on the rails serves as a salve of sorts. Enjoying the scenery. Meeting interesting people. And not feeling rushed and hassled.

OK, drum roll because I am supposed to offer an opinion in this space so here it is:

Taking the train, if you have the time and resources to go first-class, is easily superior to flying or driving. The Amtrak employees are super nice, there is time to learn about other passengers, the food is good enough, and the views are unmatched.

Question answered

Yes, I am looking forward to a two-night trip on Amtrak to the West Coast. Some of the people I met on the Florida trip say the ride to the West Coast – to L.A., San Francisco or Seattle - is spectacular, with Amtrak providing jaw-dropping scenery, much of it unseen by passengers in cars and airplanes.

I can hear the train whistle already.

© 2019 Douglas Freeland / The Weekly Opine