Chapter 16: Hide and Seek

March 16th, 1995, 4:55 PM CT; Union Station, Chicago IL

“All passengers for the Southwest Chief, please line up at the door in the back of the Metropolitan Lounge,” came the voice over the PA system. It was a busy Metropolitan Lounge; this was the busiest time of the day for Chicago Union Station’s long distance trains.

John and Gretel lined up with the rest of the people there as they were lead out to the imposing Southwest Chief. It was an interesting emotion for John whenever he rode it; a long time ago, this train was ‘his’ train, back when he managed its predecessor, the El Capitan/Super Chief. He remembered ever so clearly back when it had been a very, very special train- in his admittedly biased opinion, the finest train ran in the United States well into the Amtrak era. With the way his railroad still ran it- he still thought of it as his railroad considering the number of shares he held of Santa Fe Pacific- it was still a mighty fine train, the fastest in the west.

As they were lead out of the back door of the lounge, it was obvious that the station was alive, Metra trains standing idle, their relief valves periodically hissing. The sound of diesel engines idling, coolers howling, electricity humming, and the relief valves made the place seem teeming with life. It was thundering and vibrating with the idling of a dozen diesel prime movers just waiting to take the impending rush hour crowd home from their jobs in the Windy City. Soon it would be truly swarming with commuters rushing to and fro, grabbing their drinks, and heading home from the drudgery of office work.

The diesel engines, trapped in a tiny space, made the entire place gaggingly smell like burnt diesel fuel. It was smoky, smelly, and hard to breathe. But that was how Chicago Union Station always was. Without the pride of New York, Chicago never felt the need to require electrification within their city, one of the many reasons New York had minimal pollution problems and Chicago had massive ones. Even so, the pollution produced by the idling commuter trains was a tiny fraction of what would be produced were they replaced by busses- or worse, personal automobiles.

The Metra trains ranged from the all-stainless-steel Bi-Level consist with the Euro-esque nosed M-K F40PHM-2 to a few slightly rusty Pullman-Standard Bi-levels pulled by also slightly rusty F7’s and E8’s. A lot of Metra’s equipment was ancient and not very well maintained. For some reason, the local transit operator had not been realized for its potential to launder mountains of graft in the form of massive amounts of vastly overpriced shiny new equipment. Instead Metra ran on a truly shoestring budget patching together with chewing gum and baling wire equipment long overdue for retirement and scrapping.

The Southwest Chief stood like a goddess among this rabble. Amtrak’s sizable desire to not displease Santa Fe and once again lose the marketable “Chief“ moniker made them keep the train clean. It also made them sure to use matching equipment on it. It went down the road one of the most physically attractive trains Amtrak ran, especially in the western United States.

This particular train ran with four F40PH engines, backed up to three stainless steel baggage cars at its head end. Trailing this was an old Hi-level Coach-Dorm with the transition paint designed to help transition the three stripe scheme from single level to Superliner level. The rest of the consist was all Superliner I cars done in the red, white, and blue Phase III paint. The train carried three additional Superliner coaches, a Sightseer Lounge, a dining car, and two sleepers. The train had a capacity for 297 coach passengers and 88 sleeping car passengers, a total of 385 passengers in its eleven-car-length.

Chicago to Los Angeles was a surprisingly busy route for Amtrak. Busy enough to warrant having 509 coach seats and 121 sleeper berths running the route in each direction each day between the Southwest Chief and Desert Wind, with an additional sleeper (44) and coach (75) going via the Texas Eagle an additional three days a week. It was the second largest of Amtrak’s endpoint routings.

Only the Northeast to Florida market warranted more. The Northeast to Florida market had four trains running it each day: Silver Meteor (New York-Charleston-Orlando-Miami), Silver Star (New York-Raleigh-Columbia-Tampa-Orlando-Miami), Palmetto (New York-Charleston-Tampa), and the Superliner-equipped Auto Train (Lorton, VA to Sanford, FL).

The total capacity of that was about 25 single-level coaches (1,500 passengers), seven Superliner coaches (525 passengers), twelve 10-6 sleepers (252 passengers), three Slumbercoaches (120 passengers), four Superliner Sleepers (184 passengers) and two Deluxe Sleepers (68 passengers). A total of 32 revenue coaches and 21 revenue sleepers, or 53 revenue cars making the round trip each day. A total capacity of 2,025 coach seats and 644 sleeping berths, or 2,669 passengers altogether.

As John and Gretel boarded their sleeping car, retroactively named Gulf Islands, they were still full of apprehension. But there was nothing like the relaxing atmosphere aboard an Amtrak train to help relieve such stress. Besides, the Superliner Deluxe Bedroom had a private shower they could take advantage of, however cramped it might be...

March 16th 1995, 8:15 PM MT; Mile 1095; 5 miles east of Winter Park, CO

They left even later than planned, at about 5:45, and the going had been slow and tiresome. They were now nine hours and fifteen minutes late. Given the fact that the train was not going to make its normal speed through the mountains to Salt Lake City, and the complete lack of priority Southern Pacific were giving the train, they didn’t expect to get into Salt Lake City until about noon tomorrow- a little more than 12 hours late. George had been on later trains before, but it was still very late, even in his experience.

Fortunately, Amtrak took the opportunity to get a third F40 and an additional P40 to Salt Lake City, which meant that the Desert Wind and California Zephyr would not be limping past Salt Lake City. The most glowing estimates suggested they would get to Los Angeles around three in the morning, and Emeryville around five in the morning. There were some passengers who were getting very upset with the way the trip had been progressing, but only a surprisingly small percentage of them.

All the news about the lateness had caused the increasingly bored passengers to congregate in the Sightseer Lounge. An obliging conductor had rigged the PA system in the Lounge car into an audio player and to work only in the Lounge, and a Karaoke contest had developed on the upper deck of the Sightseer. Some older black woman was currently doing a good job of singing along to one of George’s favorites: Take The ‘A’ Train. She wasn’t Ella Fitzgerald- but nobody was. Heck, chances were, nobody would ever better her.

He and Jill were doing a bad job of attempting to dance with the song, stumbling around because the floor was moving beneath their feet. Every time they stumbled or had to grab onto something in order to not fall, they were laughing. They must have looked drunk to an outsider- to someone onboard, they knew that if they were drunk, they’d be falling over. It was a lot of fun, and the two lovers were enjoying each other’s silly attempts to make their moves something vaguely approaching graceful- and failing, of course.

Jill, for her part, was having the time of her life. She had never had so much fun; it wasn’t just the dancing, and it wasn’t just having George as company- although both made the moment extremely special. It was the company of the entire train, and the way everyone was getting into it. The entire train car was watching and laughing at them, and a few were throwing face to the wind and attempting to join them. Even the singer was failing at trying not to laugh as she scatted. It was a genuine party, an entire towns worth of people taking the lemons of lateness and choosing to make lemonade.

On the lower level, a retired kindergarten teacher was in the private lounge, reading stories to the train’s younger population. Some grateful parents were sitting in there enjoying seeing their kids having fun and making the best of a bad situation. Other parents were on the upper level, taking glee in the fact that they had managed to secure some time away on this otherwise arduous and long journey, getting longer with every passing update of the situation. They were among those enjoying the two teenagers and a smattering of other passengers making fools of themselves- and having a ball doing it.

Some time ago, Amtrak had decided to let drinks be on the house on the upper bar in the Sightseer, and people were taking advantage of it. Service Attendant Maria O’Conner, serving the bar, was watching several new couples become friends, and she was sure at least a few were heading beyond there. A late train meant she got home to her family late, sure, but if she was going to be home late, at least there was a lot of fun to be had. She loved her job. Not that she wanted to be home late, but like the passengers, she had learned that it was best to make the most out of the bad situation and enjoy the party atmosphere.

One of the A/Cs had convinced the conductor to open up the rear dining car as a lounge, and in the forward section that A/C was leading a makeshift bingo game; one of the passengers had somehow been carrying a large case of bingo cards, and he was picking bingo numbered pieces of paper out of his hat. In the rear section, several hot poker games had sprung up. The A/C averted his eyes. There was money changing hands, and he didn’t want to know about it, lest he be required to stop it. People were having fun, and since they were having fun, they weren’t complaining to the crew about things the crew were powerless to fix.

George and Jill got to know each other even better. Neither had much trouble with embarrassing themselves, which was why they were the first to try to dance. They were having the time of their lives, that was for sure. For the first time in a while, they managed to put the problems awaiting them with Jill’s family from their mind. It was all for the moment, for having fun, and for helping others in the train enjoy themselves along with them.

All of this merriment was taking place to the background outside the windows. Even in the dark, people could see the spectacular vistas rushing by outside the Sightseer’s massive windows. To help that, the conductor had dimmed the lights in the sightseer lounge. This section of the ride, usually undertaken in daylight, was often the reason people chose to ride this particular train. The spectacular vistas of the Rocky Mountains afforded by the tight routing between them was truly spectacular.

As the evening wore on, George and Jill ran out of their nearly tireless energy and made their way back to their sleeping compartment. Within moments, they were undressed for bed and asleep, not thinking of the reveling still going on around them. They were tired enough to avoid some of the push and pull from each other’s differing ideas of what they should be doing in bed on that train. They just cuddled up to each other naked, and fell into a deep and restful sleep.

Despite its long delays, despite its ailing engines, and despite being labeled by USA Today as the Death Train, the combined California Zephyr/Desert Wind was gaily rocking and rolling its way down the track- in more ways than one.

March 17th, 1995, 10:45 AM MT; Mile 1609; Rio Grande Depot, Salt Lake City, UT

To Lance’s surprise, they managed to get Brenda a ticket. It surprised him, it really did. He figured the train would be sold out by now, this close to its departure. It never occurred to him that due to the train’s outrageous lateness, people cancelled their trips. The train, by this point, was running with a lot of available space; people who had any kind of need for an on time arrival had switched to other modes of transportation.