Train travel
I’ve made thousands of train rides, but I’ve never lost the exhilaration that one gives me. Every time I board a train, I relive my youthful wanderlust of finding my seat, gliding along on steel rails, and watching the unfolding rolling panorama pass by my window.
The thrill of a train ride is the combination of experiencing motion without the stress of having to worry about the details, enjoying an ever-changing view without having to focus on it, and the ability to read, doze, chat with a friend, or the freedom to wander around the train and get
a snack.
For me, the equipment experience is part of the joy. Simply feeling how different railroad cars roll is part of it, but also the various layouts and seating arrangements, plus the styles of décor and types of seating, contributes to my impression of the journey.
Among my early long-distance train rides was a trip with my father in the early 1970s aboard the United Aircraft TurboTrain. We caught the train at the Route 128 station outside of Boston and traveled to New York City along the former New Haven Railroad Shore Line route. Riding in the dome behind the engineer running the train, what I remember most was the unusual sensation as the train sailed through curves. Years later, when researching the TurboTrain for a book, I read about its advanced pendular suspension designed to minimize the effects of centrifugal forces on the body when t
raveling at high speed. I loved the TurboTrain. When I started first grade in 1972, I proudly brought my lunch to school in a CN TurboTrain lunchbox.
In 1999, I boarded an Italian-designed ETR470 Pendolino train at Horb am Neckar, Germany, for a twisting ride through the Black Forest toward Basel, Switzerland. This Cisalpino service connected Stuttgart to Milan via the Gotthard Pass. My initial contact with the train was simply to experience its tilting system, which I found more refined than the old TurboTrain but didn’t give me quite the same sensation.
About a year later, traveling with a Swiss Pass, I boarded a crowded Cisalpino at Bellinzona, Switzerland to take the ride to Milan. Although I had reserved my seat, when I arrived at the appropriate place hoping for a window view, I found a young woman in my place. She offered to move, but instead I politely declined and took the aisle-seat instead.
The seating was arranged in quads — pairs of seats facing one another. In the seats facing us was an animated, loquacious elderly German woman traveling with her granddaughter. They chatted with glee at the passing scenery; I took notes on the train ride. After about 45 minutes, the granny and child disembarked at our next station stop. The young woman next to me took a sigh of relief. “Thank God … she has pointed out every mountain, every castle, and tree since we left Zürich!” This broke the ice, and she and I chatted the rest of the way to Milan, where she was studying fashion at the European Institute of Design.
You never know who you’ll meet on a train. I’ve met a great variety of people with stories to tell.
Rolling east on Amtrak train No. 48, the Lake Shore Limited, I struck up a conversation with an Amish carpenter on his way to build a barn at a farm in the woods in the Adirondacks. On another trip on train No. 48, some 20 years ago, I had a fortuitous meeting with a signal systems engineer working for General Railway Signal Company. At the time, I was in the finishing stages of my book Railroad Signaling, and as we rolled east he helped me write detailed photo captions and answered a variety of technical questions.
Many train riders I’ve chatted with on trains were passing acquaintances, while a few have become life-long friends. In 1982, as a teenager traveling on a Mystic Valley Railroad Society excursion to the Hoosac Tunnel, I met a fellow young enthusiast named Dan Howard. We became good friends and later took a variety of railfan trips together. We stayed in touch over the years. Not only has Dan contributed to my books and magazine articles, but he and his wife Mary attended my wedding last year.
All things being equal, I prefer spontaneous rail journeys, where a rail pass, flexible ticket, or inexpensive one-way tickets permits the rider to get on and off trains at will. While easy in Europe, these types of journeys are more difficult in the USA. Pennsylvania’s SEPTA offers a flexible ticket called the Independence Pass (iseptaphilly.com/blog/independencepass), which is a great way to experience its rail and transit network.
This article captured it perfectly. I could cheerfully describe every detail of my first trip west on the San Francisco Zephyr in 1974. Highlights were watching the signals turn from green to red from the dome car at night, and then discovering the full-length dome car that was added in Denver before riding backwards to Cheyenne. We saw a tornado in the distance as we crossed Wyoming. Then I enjoyed my first ride over Donner Pass the next day. After we left Colfax I convinced my dad to walk to the last car so I could look out the railfan window. I was amazed to find the door open and an open platform view of the tracks as we descended to Sacramento.
Around 40 years ago, I had some memorable train trips. The Silvers to and from Florida – coach seating (I was a kid and didn’t care) but full dining with great food. and TurboLiner in and out of GCT to Boston, with a Budd car on to Springfield. To a budding (sorry for the pun) train enthusiast from Scranton PA) then living in NYC, it didn’t get better. The TT – smooth, fast, and all powered by this tiny turbine, one at each end. Long distance with multiple dining car meals done to order. I did other travel back then, Italy, Egypt and Israel, a couple Carib cruises, but the trains were especially easy, just a cab or subway ride from my apartment. All memorable in their own way.
Wow! I had that lunchbox too. There’s a CP freight on the other side.