Ch 8: 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.

John and Gretel lined up with the rest of the people there as they were lead out to the imposing Southwest Chief. 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 alive.

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.

The Metra trains ranged from the all-stainless-steel Bi-Level consist with the Euroesque nosed M-K F40PHM-2 to a few slightly rusty Pullman-Standard Bi-levels pulled by also slightly rusty F7s and E8s. A lot of Metra's equipment was ancient and not very well maintained.

The Southwest Chief stood like a goddess among this rabble. Amtrak's sizable desire to not displease Santa Fe and once again lose the "Chief" moniker made them keep the train clean and sure to use matching equipment on it. This particular train ran with four F40PH engines, backed up to three stainless steel baggage cars at its head end.

There 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 11 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.

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 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), 12 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...

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 9:15 late. Given the fact that the train was not going to make more than 2/3rds its normal speed through the mountains to Salt Lake City, they didn't expect to get into Salt Lake City until about noon tomorrow- a little more than 12 hours late.

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.

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 on to 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.

Jill, for her part, was having the time of her life. She had never had so much fun. 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.

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.

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, were 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.

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 bingo game. 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.

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.

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.

But by now, George and Jill had gotten tired 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.

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 Barry'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. It never occurred to him that due to the train's outrageous lateness, people cancelled their trips.

Rio Grande Depot was a fucking ugly building. It was dirty, dingy, and old. It wasn't like the newer buildings you find around. Outdated. Tired. Ugly. He hoped Salt Lake City would get a newer station soon. This place must be a hundred fucking years old.

He was cursing that the train was so fucking late. It was supposed to have been here 11 hours ago. And they told him it would be another 15 minutes before it got here. How badly can you run a fucking railroad?

Brenda, on the other hand, saw a building in need of repair and restoration. She could see under the years of neglect, and saw a building that had once been beautiful. She found it sad that such a beautiful building had been allowed to go this far to shit.