Day 4: scenes from a train
Thursday
We were on the train until around 7pm, so the day's sights consisted in large part of the changes in the American countryside across the northern West.
We awoke somewhere in North Dakota. There were a lot of hayfields, watering holes, and occasionally horse corrals.
As we drifted toward the Bear's Paw Mountains, where Chiefs Joseph and Sitting Bull gave up their struggles, the hills split open to reveal piles of pale tan sedimentary rock.
We did pass Fort Buford, but the train was moving too fast for me to get a shot of the scant remains of its fence.
The Empire Builder engages volunteer park rangers to give talks about the landscapes we see out the windows. Now, this unfortunately happens in the viewing car, which was invariably filled with people (A) playing board games and video games, (B) reading, and (C) sleeping, in few cases viewing and in many cases taking up two seats or "reserving" one with a squatting paperback. (GRRR.) M and I took to straphanging standing, and we were treated to a performance by Eddie "King" Johnson, a Chippewa fiddler, and his guitarist grandson Wayne, who belted out Cajun and old-time tunes redolent with the intermittent, yelping high notes that, to my ear, typify American Indian fiddling.
Here are the Bear's Paw Mountains in the distance.
From closer up, I imagined that the Appalachian Plateau must have looked like this after just the first million years or so of erosion.
The train took a servicing break in Havre. There's a well-preserved Great Northern Railway S-2 steam engine there to commemorate rail magnate James J. Hill. It seemed everything in this part of the country was named, from Hill County (of which Havre is the seat) to the Montana town of Maryhill (his wife's name).
There was also a statue called "Hands Across the Border," which seemed to represent cooperation between the Mounties and US cops. Or something.
Reason # 87 Why Amtrak Is The Best: They gave us sleeping-car passengers a free wine and cheese tasting!
Minnesota cheeses, Washington wines. They also gave us a chance to win bottles of the wine via a trivia contest. Sadly for M and me, it was much like playing our parents' edition of Trivial Pursuit, where all the questions ask about Gerald Ford, Liberace, and Wilt Chamberlain. Retirees 4, Young Folks 0. But the tasting was lots of fun.
Did I mention the meals have been awesome? Blackened catfish served on a johnnycake, juicy lamb shank, rich Mississippi mud pie... and lovely, interesting folks to talk to at each meal. (Amtrak never seats you with the same people twice.) I really don't understand why people still put up with plane travel: security, delays, bad service, bad climate control, cramped seating, grumpy people, NO food (except teensy-tiny bags of pretzels). Not to mention the high-polluting jet fuel spewing directly into the atmosphere. And for many trips, it's not even that much faster when you factor in getting to and from the airport, going through security, etc. Wake up, America!
The Montana landscape was pretty awesome too. The Bear's Paw Mountains had receded, and the Rockies not yet on the horizon. There was just plains-covered plateau that rivers had cut away.
And then the blue outline of the Rockies rose up in the distance.
We should've seen them a lot earlier and a lot clearer, but the forest fires in Montana had kicked up that much smoke.
When we disembarked at East Glacier, we got our bearings and shlepped our bags to the hostel. Then we took a short walk to get a better view of the mountains at sunset.
Look, we are so happy to be off the train and in the Rockies!
The day came to a gentle, companionable close. We drank local beer and ate Rainier cherries on the hostel's porch, listening to our new Irish friend Brian play some intensely good blues guitar and chatting with another new friend and new-age Christian drifter, RJ. And watched the Rockies fade into dusk, leaving only the neon sign of the gas station across the way as a spotlight for the stray dogs that ambled up and down Route 49.
We were on the train until around 7pm, so the day's sights consisted in large part of the changes in the American countryside across the northern West.
We awoke somewhere in North Dakota. There were a lot of hayfields, watering holes, and occasionally horse corrals.
As we drifted toward the Bear's Paw Mountains, where Chiefs Joseph and Sitting Bull gave up their struggles, the hills split open to reveal piles of pale tan sedimentary rock.
We did pass Fort Buford, but the train was moving too fast for me to get a shot of the scant remains of its fence.
The Empire Builder engages volunteer park rangers to give talks about the landscapes we see out the windows. Now, this unfortunately happens in the viewing car, which was invariably filled with people (A) playing board games and video games, (B) reading, and (C) sleeping, in few cases viewing and in many cases taking up two seats or "reserving" one with a squatting paperback. (GRRR.) M and I took to straphanging standing, and we were treated to a performance by Eddie "King" Johnson, a Chippewa fiddler, and his guitarist grandson Wayne, who belted out Cajun and old-time tunes redolent with the intermittent, yelping high notes that, to my ear, typify American Indian fiddling.
Here are the Bear's Paw Mountains in the distance.
From closer up, I imagined that the Appalachian Plateau must have looked like this after just the first million years or so of erosion.
The train took a servicing break in Havre. There's a well-preserved Great Northern Railway S-2 steam engine there to commemorate rail magnate James J. Hill. It seemed everything in this part of the country was named, from Hill County (of which Havre is the seat) to the Montana town of Maryhill (his wife's name).
There was also a statue called "Hands Across the Border," which seemed to represent cooperation between the Mounties and US cops. Or something.
Reason # 87 Why Amtrak Is The Best: They gave us sleeping-car passengers a free wine and cheese tasting!
Minnesota cheeses, Washington wines. They also gave us a chance to win bottles of the wine via a trivia contest. Sadly for M and me, it was much like playing our parents' edition of Trivial Pursuit, where all the questions ask about Gerald Ford, Liberace, and Wilt Chamberlain. Retirees 4, Young Folks 0. But the tasting was lots of fun.
Did I mention the meals have been awesome? Blackened catfish served on a johnnycake, juicy lamb shank, rich Mississippi mud pie... and lovely, interesting folks to talk to at each meal. (Amtrak never seats you with the same people twice.) I really don't understand why people still put up with plane travel: security, delays, bad service, bad climate control, cramped seating, grumpy people, NO food (except teensy-tiny bags of pretzels). Not to mention the high-polluting jet fuel spewing directly into the atmosphere. And for many trips, it's not even that much faster when you factor in getting to and from the airport, going through security, etc. Wake up, America!
The Montana landscape was pretty awesome too. The Bear's Paw Mountains had receded, and the Rockies not yet on the horizon. There was just plains-covered plateau that rivers had cut away.
And then the blue outline of the Rockies rose up in the distance.
We should've seen them a lot earlier and a lot clearer, but the forest fires in Montana had kicked up that much smoke.
When we disembarked at East Glacier, we got our bearings and shlepped our bags to the hostel. Then we took a short walk to get a better view of the mountains at sunset.
Look, we are so happy to be off the train and in the Rockies!
The day came to a gentle, companionable close. We drank local beer and ate Rainier cherries on the hostel's porch, listening to our new Irish friend Brian play some intensely good blues guitar and chatting with another new friend and new-age Christian drifter, RJ. And watched the Rockies fade into dusk, leaving only the neon sign of the gas station across the way as a spotlight for the stray dogs that ambled up and down Route 49.