Chicago, Day 2

Our second day in Chicago began with a trip in to the city on the Blue Line, via a bus that mercifully stopped within a few steps of our hotel's parking lot. We stopped off at Union Station to set our bags down in their lockers, which were a rather exorbitant $9 for the day, and had breakfast (cereal!) in Union Station's fabulous Great Hall. At breakfast, I realized that I had lost my sunglasses. We went back to Aurelio's to see if I'd lost them, but this turned out to be fruitless. I'm still sorting through the photos to find exactly where I left them.

Building on our great success in Seattle, we decided to visit the Harold Washington Library- the largest public library building in the world. Aside from the fantastic size of it all, it was worth the trip for what we found. On the upper floors of the library is a "winter garden"- a green space with tables and chairs for the public to enjoy, all sitting in a comfortable, climate-controlled dome. I assume that this is meant to assist Chicagoans in coping with the harsh local winters. The effect is much like sitting in the plaza of a city park, except that you're 9 stories up in the middle of downtown Chicago.

Off of the garden are several historical exhibits. One of the galleries is focused on the life of the man whom the building is named after- Harold Washington, the first black Mayor of Chicago. The library's current location was one of his great projects as Mayor, and one that he would not live to see completed.

In the next gallery was part of the Chicago Public Library's extensive collection of Civil War artifacts, including a saddle used by none other than General Ulysses Grant. As always, there are serendipitous surprises to be found in all of the nooks and crannies of places- and often they're free.

After the library, we visited the newly-renovated Millenium Park. There are several things to be seen here, including "The Bean"-- formally the Cloud Gate, a large metal sculpture that looks a bit like a very chrome lima bean.

Dani found The Bean useful for photographic tricks.

Afterwards, we visited the Crown Fountain, a large sculpture fountain in the park. On this particular hot summer day, the fountain was teeming with Chicagoans of all sorts enjoying the water, which was "spit" from nozzles in the side of 50-foot towers. The towers themselves were decorated with a rotating series of faces, with the mouths of the faces at the nozzles.

My impression of the fountain was that it is a prime example of good public space-- both artistic and functional, and highly appreciated by the folks there. The air was full of the sound of people just having a good time, which is what a city park ought to do.

Afterwards, we headed across the park towards the waterfront and the famous Buckingham Fountain. Along the way, we encountered the Taste of Chicago festival-- which was good, as we were hungry-- but then we encountered the Taste of Chicago festival's price list. Suffice to say that we kept walking towards the fountain.

While Buckingham Fountain is obviously a work of art, it's a work of art somewhat unlike Crown Fountain. It's fenced off and offered no respite from the muggy heat that plagued the city in July. I'm told that there are water and light shows at the fountain, but we weren't there for either. Still hungry, we kept walking towards the Chicago Field Museum of Natural History, as when I had last visited the city with my family there was a hot dog cart in front of the museum.

Sadly, the hot dog cart wasn't there. I brought down this beast, but as you can see it was all bones.

By this time, it was three in the afternoon and we were both hungry and a very long walk from the nearest CTA stop. So we turned to our smartphones for help. We found City Dogs in the Loop, and hiked back out to the Red Line for a trip inbound. Once there, we found that there are a lot of things to do to a hot dog beyond the usual ketchup.

It was delicious!

We rounded out our time in Chicago with a trip around on the CTA, followed by a ride out to Lincoln Park and a walk along the waterfront.

The waterfront trail links all of the parks along Chicago's lakeshore, and it was clearly very popular. Among the most interesting features I saw was this pavilion, where several people were sitting around playing chess. The boards were built in to the benches.

With Chicago (or at least its waterfront) thoroughly explored, we made our way back to Union Station and the Lakeshore Limited to Niagara Falls.

Disaster and Rescue

After the washout of the Empire Builder earlier in the trip, we were re-routed on to the California Zephyr out of Sacramento to Chicago. Some scrambling meant that I was able to save most of our trip, losing only a day in Chicago and half a day in Niagara Falls. (It would turn out to be worse than that, but I'll explain why later.) We'd also have to ride straight through to Buffalo, making for 4 nights on the train, in coach. Not an ideal situation by any means, but okay. So, after an evening in Seattle that Amtrak still refused to pay for, we grudgingly boarded the Coast Starlight back south to California, expecting an early morning transfer to the Zephyr the next day. We settled in and I got to doing some blogging.

My blogging was interrupted, however, about halfway between Portland and Salem, OR. The conductor came by to ask me if I had received a call from Amtrak. It seems that some of her other passengers had been called and informed that the Zephyr that we were trying to transfer to would be cancelled due to flooding, and that buses were on hand in Salem to return passengers to their origin stations. I told her that, no, I hadn't received such a phone call, and that I really hoped that I wouldn't. Sure enough, three minutes later, I received just such a phone call. I got on the phone to Amtrak's Customer Relations department, who informed me that they'd be happy to bring me back to Seattle. I informed them that there was nothing for me in Seattle, and that returning me there was tantamount to tossing me onto the streets, and they refused to provide any sort of accomodation in Seattle for me. They also offered to deliver me to Denver, where they would also leave me to my own devices. I informed the agent that I would not be leaving the train until I had either a place to sleep or a plan to get to Chicago, and hung up.

Salem, OR came and went, and most of the people in our car emptied out onto the waiting buses. (Amtrak, on long-distance trains, seats passengers by destination. Our car was all Sacramento passengers, and 90% of them were Empire Builder refugees heading for Chicago.) We stayed, and I tried different tacks with Amtrak's customer relations agents. Nothing worked. I was finally re-routed via the Southwest Chief, but that train (the only remaining route from the west coast to Chicago) was so overbooked that the agent was unable to get me aboard earlier than 5 July. (It was 27 June.) That, of course, was when I would be able to board the train- it wouldn't get us to Chicago until the 7th, or to New York (our eventual destination at that point) until the 8th. This itinerary would have us cooling our heels in Riverside for a solid week, and would eat Chicago, Niagara Falls, Toronto, Montreal, and most of our visit to New York City (and therefore, most of our visit with my best friend, who is currently in exile in Brooklyn). We were both devastated by this outcome, but since we didn't have the money for a flight or bus to Chicago, we were resigned to booking it.

I then, fatefully, texted my mother about our situation. She expressed incredulity about the awfulness of Amtrak's customer service (unsurprisingly- I can't quite believe it myself), and asked if there was anything she could do. I said that, barring a last-minute flight, there wasn't. Surprisingly, she replied with "Your dad and I will look into things- give me some airport options," which I did. At this point, we were in Eugene, OR, and about to lose cellular service for the spectacularly isolated stretch of track over the Cascade range, so (not thinking that much would come of it), I told her I'd call when we were back in cell range.

When I called her, she informed me that my grandparents were prepared to foot the bill to fly us to Chicago the next morning, and that I should arrange to get off in Oakland. Who am I to argue? (Thanks again, Grandma and Grandpa!)

The next morning, we arrived in Sacramento nearly an hour early. I took the opportunity to get off and stretch my legs. By the time we were in Oakland, however, we were magically half an hour late. Somebody, someday, will have to explain to me how that works. My grandparents picked us up from the station and took us out to breakfast at a wonderful breakfast place called Dell's in their town of Castro Valley. It's the sort of dive that many towns have- decor that hasn't been updated since the place opened, cash only, but phenomenally good and phenomenally cheap food. We chatted about what we'd seen so far, and the abysmal treatment we'd received at Amtrak's hands, and headed back to their place to relax and wash up for our 14:00 flight. We also made use of their laundry machines, which turned out to be a tremendous mistake. I thought that two hours would be enough for a load of laundry, but we were running later than everyone concerned would have liked when we finally got the clothing out of the dryer. They dropped us off at the airport, and (after thanking them profusely once more) we headed off to our gate.

Our flight was overbooked, and we were subject to the usual requests for volunteers to be bumped. The offer was tempting enough, but after our recent troubles Dani wasn't feeling lucky enough to give it a try. We boarded the plane nearly last in line, and weren't able to find two seats together. A tip to everyone who fills in the window and aisle seats on a sold-out plane- if you see a couple come down at the last minute, it'd be kind of you to move and let them sit together. As-is, we were both sitting in middle seats, and two rows apart from one another. We tried to keep the shouting back and forth to a minimum, but there was an instance in which I dropped my sunglasses in the lap of the gentleman between us. The flight itself was rather miserable- four hours of flying through a thunderstorm, listening to the cries of at least two clearly distressed infants. Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for earplugs! However, when it was over, we were back in Chicago and back on our originally-scheduled itinerary... or so we thought.

You see, when we were first re-routed, we changed our reservations for the Lakeshore Limited from Chicago to Buffalo. Considering the ease with which we'd changed them, and the opening we'd made with our own cancellation, I thought that it would be relatively simple to switch them back again. Not so! It seems that, not only had the 30 June train (which was our original reservation) filled up, but the 1 July train (our first re-route) had as well! Our reservations had been changed to the 8th of July, and changing them back was going to be... problematic. We decided to take the El into downtown Chicago, get some sleep, and deal with it first thing in the morning.

Seattle

We left Victoria early in the morning- a bit too early, as is my custom. We got to the ferry terminal nearly two hours early for our sailing, and were quite thoroughly alone in the waiting area for some time. Dani was somewhat unhappy with me, but I like to be prepared. Sadly, the Clipper's terminal in Victoria is a touch uncomfortable, filled with the most unpleasant folding chairs you can imagine. It felt like we were waiting for an awful school play. Around 10:00, U.S. Immigration started processing us, and I held out hope that there would be somewhere nicer to sit on the other side. Sadly, it was an even less pleasant holding room, filled with the same chairs, but we were soon liberated and taken aboard the ferry.

Once aboard, all the seats that were available were at tables facing each other- and I had the dubious fortune of sitting across from a very, very tall gentleman. Neither of us had any legroom for the three-hour crossing to Seattle, during which the cabin staff did their best to sell us something, anything, from their on-board shops. Puget Sound was astoundingly calm, and the crossing was uneventful (if highly commercialized). We pulled in to Seattle on a drizzly afternoon and enjoyed a short, if hilly, walk to our hotel- which brings me to the second time I had to call my family for help. Despite our best efforts, we didn't have enough money on hand to pay for the room. After a few hours on the phone and Internet, my mother came through with everything necessary to persuade the desk clerk to let us in to a room. (Thanks again, mom!) Of course, $80 a night in downtown Seattle doesn't buy too much of a room, but it was a place to keep warm and dry.

I asked the desk clerk what she'd do with an evening in Seattle, and she tipped us off to a few suggestions. One was a pub called Buckley's just down the street, reputed to have an excellent happy hour, and the other was a visit to the Seattle Public Library. Both were spot-on. The pub had excellent happy hour appetizers- I had delicious pulled-pork sliders and chicken wings, Dani had a quesadilla that was far too big for her, and we split a plate of garlic tots. If you're ever in Seattle, do stop by and give them a try- tater tots smothered in garlic and cheese, fried to perfection. After a week of peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches, they were welcome.

After dinner, we headed to the amazing new Seattle Library. The building is a great example of recent architecture, and uses its unique shape to the fullest. Aside from being beautiful and expansive, it also houses a book robot and the world's only book spiral- a slowly-sloping hallway that wraps around the central stairway, organized by dewey decimal number. Libraries are wonderful places, but Seattle's library stands out as unique among them. Give it a visit if you're nearby.

At the library, we stopped by their small store in order to buy a magnet and postcards. While there, I had the happy accident of somebody mistaking me for a Canadian. We made a comment about how the only cash we had was Canadian, and that it was useless but pretty. The clerk agreed that "our money" was pretty... I told her I took it as a compliment.

We headed back to our hotel, courtesy of Seattle's extensive free-bus area, and got ready for our train back down to Sacramento- where, we were told, that we would connect to the California Zephyr to Chicago. Of course, the next morning was when it all started unraveling.

Portland, Day 1

We're sitting in Portland's Union Station, waiting for the Cascades to Vancouver, BC. I figured I should post about what we did here. :)

The Coast Starlight was a lovely ride, but it is certainly taking the scenic route. Outside of major cities, it travels along some pretty lonely stretches of track which have pretty low speed limits. The train ambles leisurely between Santa Barbara and San Jose, and similarly as it travels across the Cascades. The view in both cases, however, is spectacular. The Cascades crossing is particularly spectacular- there is nothing around but the rail line. You're riding through relatively untouched wilderness- and doing so in the Sightseer Lounge car, which has wraparound windows. We have some photos, but they don't do it justice:




We arrived in Portland a few hours late, due to UP signal problems in central Oregon. We spent an hour and a half heading through farmland at 19 miles an hour, stopping at each signal and calling the dispatcher for authority to proceed. We finally arrived and took the MAX light rail to our hotel, the Clarion Portland Airport. It was a nice hotel (and a great deal- thanks Hotwire!), but I wish we'd stayed somewhere closer. The trip between downtown and the hotel involved a long train ride to the airport, then calling the hotel's shuttle to come pick us up at said airport.


After getting checked in, we decided to make the best of our late arrival and take in the city. Because Dani declined a sandwich that afternoon, she was feeling very hungry and very insistent upon Mexican food, so we went in search of an inexpensive burrito. We stopped by Powell's City of Books, the largest book store in the country, but we didn't stay long- just long enough to ask an employee where she'd go to get a burrito. She pointed us to a restaurant that used to be El Grillo, which our guidebook says is the cheapest meal downtown, aside from the food trucks. Sadly, it is no longer El Grillo, but Santeria, who supposedly has "the best mexican food on Earth." We waited an hour and a half for nachos and tacos, and when they arrived they were just okay. (The service was worse than Templo del Sol, and those of you who know Templo will know that's saying something.) By the time we were done, the only things left open downtown were nightlife, which of course is out of our budget, so we headed for the MAX train back to the airport. A quick glance at Google Transit showed, however, that the last train for the airport had already left. We grabbed a bus, which got us within a mile of our hotel, and then hoofed it the rest of the way through a dark, deserted area of business parks. Dani was not happy with me. We resolved to make our next day in Portland an improvement.

Mini Train Trip, Part 3

As was our custom on this trip (and as it shall not be on Epic Train Trip!), we spent the next morning foraging for food. Fortunately, I got Dani out of bed before noon this time. We wandered down Haight to a coffee shop called The Grind (not to be confused with Riverside staple Back to the Grind) and had breakfast- french toast this time! Also, a very delicious brownie that was calling my name from in front of the cash register- damned impulse buys. We then got on the Muni and headed off to the day's premiere attraction: The California Academy of Sciences. Cal Academy is a spectacular institution, containing a large natural history museum, an aquarium, a state-of-the-art planetarium, and a fully-functioning rainforest ecosystem-in-a-dome. It is NOT to be missed. (A tip: You get $3 off the admittedly-expensive ticket price if you show your public transit ticket or pass, and this discount stacks- ie, you can get a student discounted price AND get $3 off by showing a Muni or BART ticket or transfer.)

While at CalAcademy, you can start where we did: the roof. The recently-renovated building itself is part of the museum's exhibits, and the roof showcases many of the sustainability initiatives incorporated into the structure. There's also much to be learned about the local ecology, plants and wildlife (esp. birds) up there, and you get great views of the surrounding Golden Gate Park. Here's a girl on a roof:



We visited the planetarium while there, and let me say that the facility was top-notch. Unlike traditional planetaria, which require viewers to lean back and look up at the sky, the dome at CalAcademy has the north pole rotated to about 45 degrees above the horizon- meaning you can sit much like you're watching a movie and enjoy the show. The actual show they presented was somewhat disappointing, however- it was entitled "Life: A Cosmic Story." When I go to a planetarium, I expect to be shown the stars, and told about astrophysics and the origin and function of our universe. This show is much more about the evolutionary origins of life on Earth, with a little bit of the formation of the solar system thrown in. I wanted to hear the "we are all stardust" story, but I got the "tree of life." Nothing wrong with that, it's an important lesson, but it wasn't one I was expecting in a planetarium. (For a much more out-of-this world experience, readers should visit the recently-renovated Oschin Planetarium at the Griffith Observatory in LA.)

Scattered about the museum are photogenic animals of all sorts- mostly aquatic. Meet Claude, the albino alligator:



Also, an African penguin, of whom we have plenty of blurry pictures...



And an adorable tortoise, nomming a leaf of lettuce:



The Academy also had a pretty extensive exhibit on global warming, which surprised even eco-crazy me on just how serious of a problem it is. We're already seeing changes in migratory and predatory patterns in California wildlife, which are bringing them in closer contact with people. My one issue with the exhibit was their "take action" pitch to visitors. In each category- food, transportation, housing, etc.- they had small actions, medium actions and large ones. For instance, in terms of household energy, a small action was to replace light bulbs with CFLs, a medium was to have a home energy audit, and a large one was to install solar or wind generating capacity. In transportation, the small action was to drive less, the medium one was to bike or use public transport, and the large one was... you guessed it... buy a hybrid. Of course, switching to bicycling and public transport over driving at all would be much better for the planet, but saying such a thing would be heresy in our car-centric culture, so it goes unsaid.

The only other issue with our visit to Cal Academy was our timing. Saturday appears to be "take-your-kids-to-the-museum day" in Golden Gate Park, and Cal Academy was swarming with children. Not such a big deal to begin with, but by 15:00 or so they were starting to get cranky and loud. In the planetarium, at least one kid was still afraid of the dark, and he said so- "The dome scares me!" His parents were considerate enough to take him out when it became clear that he wasn't going to stay quiet. I mean, I'm glad that parents are teaching their kids about science- maybe they'll grow up to be more knowledgeable and conscientious citizens- but I know there was a point there where Dani and I just had to leave. Keep that in mind when scheduling your visit.

After Cal Academy, Dani and I met up with one of her friends from Facebook who lives in the area. The first question she asked us about our trip was "Did you drive or fly?" Heh. We hung out with her until a friend of hers from high school came by to drop off Girl Scout cookies- sadly, no Caramel Delights. Her friend ended up tagging along with us. We went out to a local Chinese restaurant, which was extraordinarily delicious. (Carol was also nice enough to treat- Thanks Carol!) Even Dani ate quite a bit of it, and this is particularly uncharacteristic of Dani. Perhaps there is hope for her yet! Afterwards, we went for ice cream at the Toy Boat ice cream parlour, which was quite an experience. Besides being delicious, it was entirely covered in retro toys and decor (all in the typical futuristic style of the early Atomic Age). All-in-all, it was a nice evening out.

Around 9, Dani and I caught the Muni back to the hotel, and I embarked upon one of the many Epic Train Trip exercises that I had planned for the week: laundry. Dressed in my swim trunks and leather jacket (they were the only things not to be washed), I walked everything down to the hotel's laundry room and washed them. It went without incident, though I did get a very strange look from the front desk guy. Sadly, I don't have photos of my ridiculous getup.

We left The City the next morning, and I realized I'd forgotten to mail my postcards. (One to a friend, the other to myself- because I keep the cancellations.) I figured it'd be simple enough to find a mailbox on Market St. near the Embarcadero. I figured wrong. In a mad dash, I ended up dropping the cards off at the third-floor lobby of the Hyatt Embarcadero and running back to the bus stop, just in time to get aboard the AmBus to Emeryville.

Once in Emeryville, we headed out to Track 2 to board the San Joaquin heading south. The station staff ushered us across Track 1 pretty quickly, and it soon became apparent why: the westbound California Zephyr soon made an appearance on that track, not only threatening to squash any in its path but also cutting track 2 off from the station building entirely. Don't show up late for train 714 at Emeryville! After a quick announcement from the conductor- "This train does not go to Sacramento, this train will never go to Sacramento"- we were on our way back home from a pleasant weekend.

Mini Train Trip, Part 1

Most of the time my vacations are very well-planned, but what I pack for them has been rather spontaneous. Not this summer! As you'll note, one of The Rules of the trip is to live out of one bag for the month (and accordingly, another one calls for a packing list). Most of the advice I've seen about packing one bag for an indefinitely long period of time involves some advice on what sort of bag that should be- and I'm not exactly comfortable dropping $400 on luggage at the moment. Hence, I wanted to test whether or not we could *actually* fit everything on the list into a bag, carry it around, be comfy with it, and live out of it. That, and it was spring break- which is always a good reason for a vacation.

With these goals in mind, Dani and I set out for San Francisco last Thursday- via Amtrak, naturally. And so begins the actual "travel blogging" on this travel blog.

Packing went smoothly, though a bit obsessively (this is me we're talking about...). Truly, all the stuff does fit in our Target-bought duffel bags, and does so with relative ease. When full, my bag weighed just over 14lbs, and was easy to carry with the shoulder strap.

We boarded the dreaded Amtrak bus in downtown Riverside at 5 before 9, right on time, and Dani and I proceeded to sleep most of the way to Bakersfield. Everyone who I talk to about taking the train to NorCal cites shivers in horror at the thought of taking one of these buses, but they're really rather pleasant- clean interiors, reclining seats, and guaranteed connections. (Also, the armrest in the middle of the seats folds down in order to facilitate cuddling!) The train is more comfy, to be sure, but the buses aren't torture devices. We arrived in Bakersfield over an hour early, but not before we caught some very pretty scenes on I-5 in Tejon Pass.

(There were prettier moments than this, but Dani was asleep for them- and she had the camera.)

While waiting at the station, we noticed that a woman who had been on the bus with us (and had either gotten on at Riverside or somewhere east) had removed her coat- to reveal a black sweater reading "PRAY TO END ABORTION" on the back. She would ride with us all the way to San Francisco- straight into the lion's den, I suppose. (We didn't get a photo.)

This is our train, which hauled us up to Emeryville. Note the P42 leading the consist- Amtrak has had some difficulties with a lot of their western trains this winter, which has led to them moving their locomotives all over the place. Normally, the San Joaquins are pulled by California-owned EMD F59PHI's- but this winter, those have been seen as far away as Chicago. I stepped out at Fresno and took this picture, just as the rain started to fall on us. It rained hard and heavy from Fresno until just past Antioch, but the train pressed on at the usual 79M/h- making me glad I wasn't driving. (In fact, at Antioch I relaxed in my seat with a cold Sierra Nevada pale ale- really something you shouldn't do in a car.)

The Delta is a haven for birds, and huge flocks of them congregate in the marshes and fields nearby. As the train goes by, these flocks will often take to wing in one great, flashy motion. The effect is difficult to describe, and we didn't manage to take any photos- but do yourself a favour and ride the San Joaquins between the Bay Area and Stockton and watch. (Don't do it within a week of watching Hitchcock's The Birds, though.)


The train brought us to Emeryville, where we found a bus waiting to whisk us into The City. A quick ride over the Bay Bridge and we were standing on the Embarcadero (along with PRAY TO END ABORTION Lady). Dani took this photo of the Bay Bridge over the small ferry building Amtrak office (I can't call it a station, there are no trains):



We boarded a Muni bus (the 5-Fulton, for the curious) and went and checked in to our hotel, the Casa Loma Hotel. The hotel is "European-style", which means tiny rooms and no en-suite bathrooms. This must have tickled Dani's funny bone, because she could not stop giggling about the accommodations. It was clean, comfortable, and quiet- and, best of all, cheap- but it took some time to get her to stop laughing.


When she did stop, we went down the street foraging for food. The hotel was situated just two blocks north of Haight St. (at Filmore, for the curious), and the Lower Haight has a veritable panoply of tasty food and trendy shops. We were substantially interested in the former. That night, my uncharacteristically spontaneous wife and I wandered into a place called The Little Chihuahua. We found it using the classical method of finding tasty places to eat- look for the ones full of locals- and it did not disappoint. Seating was scarce, salsa was plentiful, and I'm not sure I've ever seen so much meat and pico de gallo on a single taco. (It came with two tortillas, so I actually split it in half- and each of those were still huge tacos!) We did have to endure the dramatic conversation of two ladies next to us, discussing why one should not be in a relationship with her current significant other- but the food was worth it. (Also, all-organic and sustainable and stuffs- gotta love S.F.) After dinner, we made our way back to the hotel and enjoyed a well-deserved rest.