Zephyring through the West

Picture this: As you chat with the couple next to you, the train rolls through the countryside. The conductor gleefully announces to everyone to fix their eyes upon the left side of the train, as we are approaching a canyon known to have wild horses. Soon after, the first dinner shift is called, and you stroll down to the café to get a bite to eat. No, this is not something I read in a book from the 1800’s. This was my life for a day and a half as I took the Amtrak Zephyr train from California to Colorado to visit my friend Madeline. I really did feel like I was going back in time, but I also felt like I was on a cruise/safari. A cruise because there was a dining cart (that I was too poor for- $30 dinners!) and because I sat for hours staring out at the view. A safari because I saw, get ready for this, rabbits, deer, a red-tailed hawk, a bald eagle, pronghorn antelope, wild horses, and bears! This was all seen while I was in something called the Sightseer Lounge, which was a cart with almost floor to ceiling windows where I, and lots of other passengers, hung out all day. 

Sightseer Lounge

The first day we left the Bay Area and wound our way through the Sierra Nevada mountain range into the Nevada desert. I ran out of food by lunchtime, rookie mistake, and splurged on a frozen pizza and chocolate bar for dinner. As the sun set and the lounge emptied, a passenger pulled out his guitar and started jamming out to some folksy tunes. It was the most perfect, peaceful moment. After that I finally headed to my actual seat in the coach section. Now, let me clarify something. There are sleeping cars, and then there’s coach. Sleeping cars have an actual bed; coach means you’re sprawled out in the most unnatural way so that your hands and legs go numb in seats that slightly recline. Armed with my makeshift bandana turned sleeping mask, rain jacket turned blanket, and NiQuil turned sleeping pill (though I did have a real pillow), I braved it through the night and had dreams about driving a car that careened off the road, most likely because the train probably rattled around on the tracks all night.

Donner Lake, CA, seen from the train

The next day we passed through Utah canyonland into the Colorado plateau, followed the Colorado River, and finally I ended my journey at Glenwood Springs. I was actually sad to get off the train. This is why traveling by train beats traveling by plane. Have you ever gotten off the plane and said, dang, I wasn’t quite ready to leave yet? Anyway, Madeline and I reunited! She dropped me off at her apartment in Aspen and went back to work for the afternoon. I was positively ravenous after trying to spend as little money as possible on the overpriced food on the train. So naturally, I searched her house top to bottom looking for something to eat. I’m ashamed to admit her roommates’ food was perfectly fair game. After I finally satisfied my hunger I went for a short run. The nearly 8,000 foot elevation hit me like a train (see what I did there?). Later that night we stocked up on our favorite supplies-chips, cheese, and other various items, and watched some guilty pleasure shows together.

On Friday, Madeline went to work and I did my long training run. The scorching sun absolutely kicked my ass and I fantasized about ice cold water for 12 brutal miles while rationing my lukewarm water. On the upside, I found a waterfall and a beautiful place to soak my legs after that run. Needless to say, I spent the afternoon on the couch, too tired to move. We went into downtown Aspen that night and naturally, I wanted to go into a pot shop since it’s legal in Colorado, just to say I’d been in one, a quick in and out. Not quite how it went down. 20 minutes later, we were still in there waiting for the cops to show up because the guy thought my SC driver’s license was fake! The clear cover is coming off and they were absolutely certain that meant it was fake. I was pretty pissed, but all we could do was wait for the cops to come and verify it, and then I got my ‘told you so’ moment when it was cleared. Guess it’s time for me to get a CA driver’s license.

That weekend we were super active and enjoyed some of Aspen’s best outdoor treasures. Saturday we watched the sun rise over Maroon Bells (two beautiful peaks), drove out on Independence Pass and powered our way up an unnamed trail on the Continental Divide, explored a cave, and went for an afternoon hike on the trail system behind her house. The pizza, chips, and Harry Potter we splurged on that night felt well-earned.

Continental Divide trail

Found a nook in the cave!

Sunday the festivities continued with a trail run on Grizzly Creek Trail, a hike to a place called Hanging Lake, and an afternoon soak in hot springs. By Monday, we were so wiped out that we declared all we could do was sit down all day (or something like that). Perfect day for a road trip! We drove a few hours west to the Colorado National Monument, near Grand Junction. Unlike Aspen’s alpine forests, this area was all canyons and red rocks. We limited ourselves to a few short hikes but saw a lot just driving through the park. My favorite part was a U-shaped canyon that echoed back whatever you yelled out, extremely clearly. I had fun thinking of ridiculous things to say.

View on the hike up to Hanging Lake

Hanging Lake

Spouting Rock Falls

CO National Monument

The next day, unfortunately, it was time for me to catch the train back home. But not before I got in one last run. This time I finally dragged myself off the flat bike path and into the mountains, and successfully ‘chased vert,’ or chased vertical, as running hills is called by the trail running community. Later, the train ride back to CA was just as magical as the ride there. Possibly the funniest thing about the train is the tradition with rafters and campers on the Colorado River: they all moon the train as it goes by. On the way out I sat, jaw-dropped, as group after group dropped trou and shook their pale butts at us, but on the way home I felt like a seasoned veteran and casually mentioned the tradition to those sitting around me.

Back in California, I’m still adjusting to the weather here. Last week I nearly drowned in my own sweat and this week bicyclists are wearing face masks!  I blame it partly on the fact that school is already back in session. California is like some alternative universe in which August isn’t actually summer anymore. But I refuse to accept that fact. I’m looking forward to soaking up the last few weeks of summer until the real ‘cold weather’ comes, which Owen keeps insisting won’t actually come.

To conclude this week’s post, a recent exchange Owen and I had in the car, as he was showing me a feature with the sound system:

Me: “Owen, focus on driving!”

Him: “I’m not driving!”

Living the future here, one Tesla ride at a time.