My annual trip to Galesburg - Train Trip Log
In what has become something of an annual tradition, I went to see my sister in Galesburg, a relatively small city in Western Illinois. I took the Amtrak train - this time, the long-distance California Zephyr. The following is a collection of notes I took during and shortly after the train ride, edited somewhat for comprehensiveness.
The California Zephyr left the Chicago Union Station right on time, which was great considering the train’s reputation for lateness. Well, that and the fact that, the last time I was on it, it fell nearly three hours behind schedule thanks to delays related to the Great Chicago Snowstorm.
The weather started out sunny, but as the train made its way further and further west, the sky got cloudier. At first, I didn’t particularly mind - long clouds plus setting sun equals pretty pictures. By sometime after we cleared Aurora, the clouds took over completely, making the already bleak winter farm fields outside the window all the more depressing.
Usually, California Zephyr has three Coach Cars, a Sightseer Lounge, a Dining Car, two Sleeper Cars, a Transitional Sleeper car, 1-2 Baggage Cars and a locomotive. Technically speaking, Coach Car passengers weren’t supposed to go in the Sleeping Cars. The Dining Car usually acts as a buffer, with Dining Car attendants turning back anyone who didn’t reserve a room. The Sleeper and Coach passengers congregate in the Lounge and Dining Car, but they don’t usually see each other beyond that.
In this train, the configuration was slightly different. It had two Sleepers, a Dining Car, a Lounge, two Coach cars and the Transitional Sleeper. The Transitional Sleeper pretty much had to go in front - that was the only way the crew could get into the Baggage Cars. But this also meant that we had Sleeper Car passengers walking though Coach Cars willy nilly, and if any Coach Car passenger wanted to walk inside, there wasn’t really anyone to stop them.
Although the train had two Coach train cars on this train instead of the usual three, space wasn’t really a problem. Even after we passed Naperville and Princeton, there were plenty of one-seaters, and conductors were pretty lax with sitting arrangements.
(Travel tip - if the train has room to spare, the conductor will be flexible. If not, you are pretty much stuck in whatever coach seat you’re placed in. Unless you are traveling with family)
A large group of Amish occupied about a fourth of the car. I wasn’t sure if they were one large extended family or several families traveling together. As I made my way through the car looking for a seat, one of the young boys - he was probably about eight - overheard me mumbling in Russian and told me that, yes, those seats were taken.
I don’t think he understood me - neither English nor the German dialect Amish use had much in common with
As the train prepared to leave the Chicago Union Union station, the group spoke quietly in a mixture of their ancestral German dialect and English. Mother cooed her baby as a little girl in a headscarf crawled around her seat. The father - he couldn’t have been much older than me - was explaining the ins and out of Amtrak and this particular train.
They were all going to Osceola, Iowa, so they would be traveling for at least six hours. The group was probably traveling before, because some of them fell asleep at pretty much the first opportunity.
I noticed one of the young men in the group sipping from the McDonalds cup, and I recalled something that people often forget about the Amish. Just because they choose to live simpler lives doesn’t mean they are completely ignorant of the modern world, or that they are completely adverse to using its trappings.
Sleep seemed to be a big theme of the train. It seemed like nearly a third of both coach cars were sleeping. Some simply leaned back in their seats, while others took advantage of the smaller-than-average passenger load and sprawled out on both seats. A college-age girl was sleeping in the lounge car when I started writing this. She sprawled across one of the two-seater turning chairs and covered herself in an Amtrak blanket she most likely bought in the snack store at the lower level. Shortly after we passed Mendota, she got up and picked up her book (which, it seemed, she used as a pillow) and read, occasionally looking out the window.
Another major theme of this train was the rocking. Trains shake - that’s a simple fact of life that everybody who rides the train learns to make due with. But this time, it seemed to be shaking extra hard.
For reasons too long to get into, I didn’t have a chance to get lunch. So, as soon as the lounge car opened, I went to the snack bar and but a cup of noodles - food of choice for all budget Amtrak travelers. I was going to eat it on the sightseeing level, but a shake from the train reminded me why they have tables on the lower level for that sort of thing. It was nothing fatal - only about the eighth of the water spilled - but hot water was still scalding, and I still had to clean up the mess.
This time around, the Sightseer Lounge had magazines stacked above the “box” that contained a fire extinguisher and some technical equipment. They were worn, well-used magazines you’d expect to find in a well-used commuter train. The magazines were either transit-themed or parenting-themed (except for the New York Times magazine, which was obviously neither). Later, one of the sleeping car attendants moved the magazines closer to the stairs and put up a few new ones - including, to my amusement, Chicago Parent (one of the Chicago Journal’s sister publications). The attendant also added train schedules and route guides. The route guides surprised me - I was under impression that they were a privilege of the sleeping car passengers.
The lounge was relatively sparse at first, but, by the time we left Princeton, it was full of activity. A lot of passengers were playing cards - always a popular Amtrak pastime. Some read. A couple of people talked - another popular Amtrak pastime. A middle-aged man with graying hair and a teal green polo shirt nursed a bottle of wine as he stared out into the cornfields and occasional small towns we raced past.
At about 4:10 PM, a blond-haired college-aged guy started playing guitar. Technically, this was against Amtrak rules, but he had a captive audience, and the rest of the car didn’t really mind.
I’ve found that every Amtrak trip leads me to discover something new about Amtrak trains, and this one was no exception. First of all, I discovered that every coach car had a dressing room at the lower level of each Coach Car. A dressing room was pretty much what the name would suggest. It had a large mirror, two sinks and a standard Amtrak-style dining/lounge “couch” in the back. It also had a standard bathroom off to the right, behind a separate door. The door to the dressing room had “ladies only” written out in black marker.
As I looked at the “couch,” it occurred to me that, if you are a couch car passenger, this would be a great place for quickies.
Before you accuse me of having a dirty mind, I will point out that, according to Amtrak lore, California Zephyr was notorious for lots of on-board sex back in the 70s, so I didn’t get that association completely out of thin air.
Another interesting thing I discovered was a list of “smoke stops” near the door to the Lounge Car. During my trip on Lake Shore Limited, I learned that when a long-distance train stops at the station longer than usual, passengers are allowed to step outside and smoke for five minutes (or more). Unofficially, non-smokers can also use it to, say, run to the station and see if they sell any cheap snacks, but Amtrak discourages it (mostly by telling passengers that if they don’t get back in time, the train won’t wait for them). I don’t think I ever recall an actual list of smoke stops ever being listed in actual train cars, but it’s a useful bit of information for smokers and non-smokers alike, so I hope that this sort of thing is becoming standard.
At 4:00 PM, the train is half an hour from Galesburg, The weather is turning even grayer as fog floats across the vast fields, distorting the edges of the horizon. The houses further from the tracks melt into the fog, giving the world outside a slightly surreal tinge.
As the train pulls up to Galesburg, I realize that the trip didn't really seemed to last that long at all. I wonder if that was because it actually arrived on time. But then, the Southwest Chief I took two years ago arrived on time and it didn't feel quick. Maybe I was just getting used to it.
I get out of the train. Outside the confines of the Chicago Union Station, the train looks long and towering. The passengers take their time getting on board. To my surprise, there are more passengers boarding than disembarking. The freight trains - one of the Galesburg constants - honk loudly in the background.
I look around. Galesburg is cloaked in grayness and fog.
I take my bag and go into the stationhouse to wait for my sister.
The California Zephyr left the Chicago Union Station right on time, which was great considering the train’s reputation for lateness. Well, that and the fact that, the last time I was on it, it fell nearly three hours behind schedule thanks to delays related to the Great Chicago Snowstorm.
The weather started out sunny, but as the train made its way further and further west, the sky got cloudier. At first, I didn’t particularly mind - long clouds plus setting sun equals pretty pictures. By sometime after we cleared Aurora, the clouds took over completely, making the already bleak winter farm fields outside the window all the more depressing.
Usually, California Zephyr has three Coach Cars, a Sightseer Lounge, a Dining Car, two Sleeper Cars, a Transitional Sleeper car, 1-2 Baggage Cars and a locomotive. Technically speaking, Coach Car passengers weren’t supposed to go in the Sleeping Cars. The Dining Car usually acts as a buffer, with Dining Car attendants turning back anyone who didn’t reserve a room. The Sleeper and Coach passengers congregate in the Lounge and Dining Car, but they don’t usually see each other beyond that.
In this train, the configuration was slightly different. It had two Sleepers, a Dining Car, a Lounge, two Coach cars and the Transitional Sleeper. The Transitional Sleeper pretty much had to go in front - that was the only way the crew could get into the Baggage Cars. But this also meant that we had Sleeper Car passengers walking though Coach Cars willy nilly, and if any Coach Car passenger wanted to walk inside, there wasn’t really anyone to stop them.
Although the train had two Coach train cars on this train instead of the usual three, space wasn’t really a problem. Even after we passed Naperville and Princeton, there were plenty of one-seaters, and conductors were pretty lax with sitting arrangements.
(Travel tip - if the train has room to spare, the conductor will be flexible. If not, you are pretty much stuck in whatever coach seat you’re placed in. Unless you are traveling with family)
A large group of Amish occupied about a fourth of the car. I wasn’t sure if they were one large extended family or several families traveling together. As I made my way through the car looking for a seat, one of the young boys - he was probably about eight - overheard me mumbling in Russian and told me that, yes, those seats were taken.
I don’t think he understood me - neither English nor the German dialect Amish use had much in common with
As the train prepared to leave the Chicago Union Union station, the group spoke quietly in a mixture of their ancestral German dialect and English. Mother cooed her baby as a little girl in a headscarf crawled around her seat. The father - he couldn’t have been much older than me - was explaining the ins and out of Amtrak and this particular train.
They were all going to Osceola, Iowa, so they would be traveling for at least six hours. The group was probably traveling before, because some of them fell asleep at pretty much the first opportunity.
I noticed one of the young men in the group sipping from the McDonalds cup, and I recalled something that people often forget about the Amish. Just because they choose to live simpler lives doesn’t mean they are completely ignorant of the modern world, or that they are completely adverse to using its trappings.
Sleep seemed to be a big theme of the train. It seemed like nearly a third of both coach cars were sleeping. Some simply leaned back in their seats, while others took advantage of the smaller-than-average passenger load and sprawled out on both seats. A college-age girl was sleeping in the lounge car when I started writing this. She sprawled across one of the two-seater turning chairs and covered herself in an Amtrak blanket she most likely bought in the snack store at the lower level. Shortly after we passed Mendota, she got up and picked up her book (which, it seemed, she used as a pillow) and read, occasionally looking out the window.
Another major theme of this train was the rocking. Trains shake - that’s a simple fact of life that everybody who rides the train learns to make due with. But this time, it seemed to be shaking extra hard.
For reasons too long to get into, I didn’t have a chance to get lunch. So, as soon as the lounge car opened, I went to the snack bar and but a cup of noodles - food of choice for all budget Amtrak travelers. I was going to eat it on the sightseeing level, but a shake from the train reminded me why they have tables on the lower level for that sort of thing. It was nothing fatal - only about the eighth of the water spilled - but hot water was still scalding, and I still had to clean up the mess.
This time around, the Sightseer Lounge had magazines stacked above the “box” that contained a fire extinguisher and some technical equipment. They were worn, well-used magazines you’d expect to find in a well-used commuter train. The magazines were either transit-themed or parenting-themed (except for the New York Times magazine, which was obviously neither). Later, one of the sleeping car attendants moved the magazines closer to the stairs and put up a few new ones - including, to my amusement, Chicago Parent (one of the Chicago Journal’s sister publications). The attendant also added train schedules and route guides. The route guides surprised me - I was under impression that they were a privilege of the sleeping car passengers.
The lounge was relatively sparse at first, but, by the time we left Princeton, it was full of activity. A lot of passengers were playing cards - always a popular Amtrak pastime. Some read. A couple of people talked - another popular Amtrak pastime. A middle-aged man with graying hair and a teal green polo shirt nursed a bottle of wine as he stared out into the cornfields and occasional small towns we raced past.
At about 4:10 PM, a blond-haired college-aged guy started playing guitar. Technically, this was against Amtrak rules, but he had a captive audience, and the rest of the car didn’t really mind.
I’ve found that every Amtrak trip leads me to discover something new about Amtrak trains, and this one was no exception. First of all, I discovered that every coach car had a dressing room at the lower level of each Coach Car. A dressing room was pretty much what the name would suggest. It had a large mirror, two sinks and a standard Amtrak-style dining/lounge “couch” in the back. It also had a standard bathroom off to the right, behind a separate door. The door to the dressing room had “ladies only” written out in black marker.
As I looked at the “couch,” it occurred to me that, if you are a couch car passenger, this would be a great place for quickies.
Before you accuse me of having a dirty mind, I will point out that, according to Amtrak lore, California Zephyr was notorious for lots of on-board sex back in the 70s, so I didn’t get that association completely out of thin air.
Another interesting thing I discovered was a list of “smoke stops” near the door to the Lounge Car. During my trip on Lake Shore Limited, I learned that when a long-distance train stops at the station longer than usual, passengers are allowed to step outside and smoke for five minutes (or more). Unofficially, non-smokers can also use it to, say, run to the station and see if they sell any cheap snacks, but Amtrak discourages it (mostly by telling passengers that if they don’t get back in time, the train won’t wait for them). I don’t think I ever recall an actual list of smoke stops ever being listed in actual train cars, but it’s a useful bit of information for smokers and non-smokers alike, so I hope that this sort of thing is becoming standard.
At 4:00 PM, the train is half an hour from Galesburg, The weather is turning even grayer as fog floats across the vast fields, distorting the edges of the horizon. The houses further from the tracks melt into the fog, giving the world outside a slightly surreal tinge.
As the train pulls up to Galesburg, I realize that the trip didn't really seemed to last that long at all. I wonder if that was because it actually arrived on time. But then, the Southwest Chief I took two years ago arrived on time and it didn't feel quick. Maybe I was just getting used to it.
I get out of the train. Outside the confines of the Chicago Union Station, the train looks long and towering. The passengers take their time getting on board. To my surprise, there are more passengers boarding than disembarking. The freight trains - one of the Galesburg constants - honk loudly in the background.
I look around. Galesburg is cloaked in grayness and fog.
I take my bag and go into the stationhouse to wait for my sister.