Bundled Up to the Ground

           I wanted to take advantage of the the down-time that occurs during the Holiday period of late December by taking a longer-than-usual trip somewhere across the country. Consulting a map: there were several enticing candidates such as San Diego, but that seemed a little too far for the amount of time I had to spend on the rails, so I decided upon of the randomness and uniqueness of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Since it had grown so cold in New York, I was banking that the southwestern part of the nation would be a warm retreat from my freezing metropolis. My furthest stretch westward up to that point was Dallas back in 2012, so Albuquerque would be a new milestone.

           Similar to the trip to Dallas, the journey would include a transfer in Chicago, except this time around instead of heading straight from New York to Chicago, I had to board an Amtrak that was headed to Washington, DC. The train's origin was Boston and whoever had the seat before me left a colorful masterpiece behind, assuming it was a child. Once I reached DC I had to stay for a brief three-hour layover that included a bowl of New England clam chowder and a Manhattan on the rocks at a station cafe. Then it was on my way to Chicago. The lady seated next to me was an ex-con on her way home to Chicago after visiting her sister and her family in Philadelphia, and she couldn't have been any more thrilled to be out of Philly. Said told me how her sister's husband was addicted to painkillers and was consuming alot of alcohol while she stayed there. My seatmate has been clean for eight years, according to herself. Ultimately she left Philly earlier than planned after her sister's husband was acting abusive and accused her of stealing things in the house. She also had a smartphone which she had no idea how to use, so I had to give her some instructions, though I barely know things about smartphones myself. I didn't spend to much time in my seat after that initial conversation, I took my laptop and valuables and enjoyed the rest of the ride in the observation car where there's chairs and sofas to lounge in. I had DVDs to watch on my laptop to help the time pass by and I might've caught a few hours of sleep here and there. The next morning I finally returned to my seat once I saw the Sears Tower and the rest of the Chicago skyline on the horizon. I had about a five hour layover before I was scheduled to board my final train towards Albuquerque, so I placed my heavy bags in a rented locker and went out to visit the town. My goal was to get a solid meal and, if possible, use a clean restroom: two items which could be a hit-or-miss with more than a day of railroading ahead of me.

           When traveling by bus or train its best to pack light and not wear big and bulky jackets that take up space. Plus, I was expecting Albuquerque to be decent weather-wise, so I was totally unprepared for the brutal bitterness of frigid air that is Chicago during the winter. The only gloves I had were made out of thin wool and the frosty wind blew through them like nothing.With each passing minute the tips of my fingers were turning whiter and whiter while the rest of my hand was becoming numb. Although Chicago is a big city, supposedly, when I was there early Sunday morning - just about everything was closed except the five hundred Dunkin Donut outlets on each block. I had to use my debit card to get into bank ATM areas so I would be able to warm up my hands for minutes at a time. I eventually bought a hot coffee to have something hot to hold, but that was no match for the brutal cold. I walked around town in hopes of finding a store that sold gloves, but I was having no such luck. As I stood under a train el I noticed a stark difference between New York and Chicago subway pigeons. In New York the pigeons are perched up the el and huddled together to stay warm, but in Chicago the pigeons stay on the ground and bundle up together to generate heat.

            As 10am rolled around a Burlington Coat factory store opened for business and I rushed in to get a pair of thick gloves. I stayed inside the store long enough for the circulation to return to my hands and I could feel my fingers again. The train was set to leave in a few hours, so same as in D.C., I wanted to get a meal before boarding. Picking random street to walk down I bumped into a Euro/Irish joint called Elephant & Castle. It appeared they were just opening for lunch and I was probably the first customer of the day. To warm my insides I started out with a French Onion soup and then moved over to a Shepherd's Pie with fried onions garnished on top. The portions were somewhat small, but the taste and quality were excellent. Most of the waitstaff were glued to the front window at an agitated gentleman outside who was boxed into a parking spot and couldn't maneuver his vehicle out. He even stormed into the place and asked if I was the owner of any of the cars which had boxed him in. Luckily I took the Amtrak and wasn't driving; I would love to see what happened when one of those other driver's really showed up. It would've been a great moment to witness, but I had to get back to Union Station and not risk missing my connection to Albuquerque.

           When I went to Dallas the train shot straight down from Illinois until it reached the State of Texas. On this route, The Southwest Chief, would take the same first step into Missouri, but then turn right into the neighboring state of Kansas, past Colorado, and then enter into northern New Mexico. The train's final destination is Los Angeles, but I would be dropped off long before that in Albuquerque. Instead of an excon, this time the person sitting next to me was more of a hippie type; an older gentleman in his 50's or early 60's and I don't think we shared two word for the entire trip. The seating arrangements on the Amtrak are planned by which stop you're getting off. This allows the conductors to keep track (no pun intended) of who should be getting on and who should be getting off when the train reaches a stop. Same as the other ride from DC, I immediately packed a small bag with my laptop and made for the observation car. It would be where I also spent the night. The conductors allow people to stay in there after hours. The train observe's a "quiet time" from about 10pm till 6am in which the lights are dimmed and quietness is encouraged. The only setback of sleeping in the observation car is that it gets cold in there. The alternative of sleeping in your seat is warmness with a combination of loud snoring and smells of body odor. Looking out the window - we passed by small towns at night with snow beginning to fall - it looked like something out of a Christmas card. The view was nice, but it was hard to stay warm. More experienced riders who also opted to spend the night in the observation car were bundled up in sleeping bags and laying like a hotdogs next to the air ducts on the floor. They reminded me of those pigeons I saw in Chicago a day earlier. Those laying next to the air ducts received the benefit of the sparse amounts of warm breeze that flowed out of them, unfortunately for me, that warm wouldn't rise to the couch-level I was sleeping on. At one juncture the train stopped for a good hour and nobody knew why. It was until the following morning that I found out a passenger had a nosebleed which wouldn't stop and an ambulance had to meet up with the train to take person to a nearby hospital. The most amusing part of the night occurred about 3am when we pulled into some lowly Kansas town called Hutchinson. The conductor came through the observation car to make sure nobody missed their stop, hen had a sarcastic take on living in that place: "Hutchinson - Hutchinson, does any one have to get off at Hutchinson........why would any one want to get off at Hutchinson?"

           We traded the snowy plains of Kansas for the drier and more scenic mountainous views of Colorado till we finally crossed into New Mexico - which I was surprised to find out had their own version of Las Vegas, but not quite as exciting as Nevada's. One stop before Albuquerque a middle-aged woman got on and we got to talking in the cafe car. She had been visiting her parents in New Mexico, of which her mother was very ill, and was returning home to some place in California I never heard of before. She told how she hated it in New Mexico and didn't give positive reviews for Albuquerque: that wasn't great news for me. She would be retiring during the month in February after putting her time in at a major airplane manufacturing plant. It was quite scary to learn that as long as some foreign country had the money - they were willing to sell them a plane. I asked how the weather should be and she reported that Albuquerque would be just as cold as I left in the east. So much for my warm retreat away from New York. Outside the window I saw a train enthusiast sitting in his backyard with a jumbo-sized pair of binoculars on a tripod, waiving and watching us as we past by his residence. The two Amtraks that pass by his house are probably the highlights of his day. I finally arrived in downtown Albuquerque in the very late afternoon. I made sure to select a hotel that was a short bus or cab ride away and it took me about five minutes to identify the correct bus line I needed to take to reach the hotel. The good thing about that Amtrak station is that its part of a larger depot called the Alvarado Transportation Center where all the local buses and trains merge. The local buses are a bargain at one dollar a ride, with the option of all-day passes for three bucks. The hotel was much further than what I had the impression from looking at Google Map and as we left the downtown area, we began passing stores with bars on the windows and doors - which is usually not a good sign when it comes to crime. After a ten minute ride the bus dropped me off right down the block from the hotel and I was happy to be inside my new surroundings before the sun went down.

            For my first night in town I wanted to take things easy; it was an uneventful Tuesday, plus I was tired and sore from being confined to the railroad for two full days. The plan was go back downtown for a quick bite and return to the hotel for the luxury of a mattress. I returned to the bus stop, the opposite side of the street of course, and waited for the next ride into town. The streets were desolate and cold, much as the lady on the train said they would be. The only thing I had going for me was the hotel was next to a major highway and there were at least cars around. The area could be described as an industrial zone with most smaller businesses already closed for the day once 4pm came around. A few minutes went by and there was no bus coming, usually its every twenty minutes for the ABQ line. From the corner of my eye I spotted two wobbly characters shuffling about; a man using a walking cane and a woman bundled up in all sorts of colorful shoals and scarfs. They appeared to be on the seedy side, so naturally they walked over towards me. They also wanted to take the bus. By the time they got within ten feet of me I could smell the vodka fuming off the guy: a thick Native American with a cane, cowboy boots, and drool slobbering out of his mouth. The woman appeared Caucasian and intoxicated, but not nearly as bad as the guy was. They bickered and argued with each other and I tried to keep my distance, but at a lonely bus stop they eventually got interested in me. The lady was dumbfounded when I told her I came to visit the city for vacation, and I was beginning to think the same thing. She was originally from Alaska, a mix of Native American and Caucasian, and had served in the military. The man was full-blooded Indian in his 60's and he too served in the military. Boozed up pretty bad, I couldn't understand most of the ramblings that came out of his mouth, and it was hard to maintain eye contact with the slobbering by the sides of his mouth, but the woman told me that he too was in the military - The Marines!! In fact, she claimed he was the last of the Navajo Codetalkers that enemy eavesdroppers couldn't understand communications with. They were made famous in World War II, although this former Marine before me had served in Vietnam. It was freezing cold out, but the drunk guy caught a moment of pride and lifted his shirt to show me an old bullet wound he took in Nam'.

           They both served in the military, so I would've thought they'd recommend it to younger people, but their advice was to never join!! The lady told me if I get drafted to go fight in Iraq; that I should refuse it somehow and run off. I tried to explain that the likelihood of getting drafted ended long ago (by Nixon in the 70’s), but I thanked her anyways. Once they gave me a break they started to bicker again with each other. The man kept slurring that he wanted to go home, which is where I think they were headed, but it sounded like only the woman had a place to stay (a room somewhere) and she didn’t want him trying to rape her. Then the guy was getting agitated at me because the bus wasn’t coming fast enough (as if I have control over that). He kept repeating, “I’m busin – I’m busin”. In a drunkard state, it was becoming difficult for him to stand erect. His slick-heeled cowboy boots caused him to fall backwards from time to time; only at a last moment was he able to catch himself from falling. The woman conceded herself to sitting on the ground and she rummaged through her bag for one last cigarette she had – bent 90 degrees in the middle. The guy broke off half and they each smoked a piece. I was really hoping the bus could hurry as I wasn’t sure what could happen with these two, they kept bickering about going home and rape. Just then the man finally lost balance with the cane and fell backwards onto a pile of small rocks and broken glass. The woman turned to her right and began cursing at his drunken folly. One of her scarves fell off her back and the wind blew it to a nearby gate. He extended his hand and wanted me to help him up. I really didn’t want to touch him, but somewhat had no choice. That’s the moment the bus decided to arrive. I waived my hand to make sure the driver stopped, but the driver must have seen two junkies on the curb and assumed the worst, so the bus blew by the stop and sped away. In no way was I going to wait around with these two any further, although I’m sure there were more funny moment to come, I had to cave in returning to hotel and spending the extra money on a cab. That was my 'Welcome to Albuquerque'.

           To begin my first full day in Albuquerque I wanted to visit a can’t-miss-classic as in the zoo. Many attractions can be a disappointment, but a zoo is as reliable as it gets. I returned to the bus stop that failed me the night before and I noticed the Alaskan lady’s scarf was still pressed up against the fence. The bus took me to the downtown area and from there it was nearly a twenty-minute walk to the zoo. Although the term “downtown” is used, in no way is Albuquerque a metropolis. There are a few busy streets with businesses, stores, bars, and restaurants, but overall it’s rather subdued. It’s a clean place any most structures look brand new, but there are many transient or homeless types that are ever present. Mixed in with illegal Mexican laborers, these transients travel in little packs of two or three going seemingly nowhere. Most carry backpacks with tents and it’s difficult to tell if they live in the area or if they’re passing through from another state. They defy the norms mostly associated with homelessness; they’re young in their 20’s or 30’s, they’re not dirty, and they’re rather coherent. Supposedly their drug of choice is crystal meth and these shady types were part of the inspiration for the successful TV Series “Breaking Bad”. I would see needles on the floor from time to time and some type of liquor called Hurricane was labelled on empty bottles all over the place. There were more empty Hurricane bottles than there were beer bottles on the grounds. 

           For the week I spent in Albuquerque, I think I was only asked for money like three or four times total. In New York, one can be asked three to four times within one subway ride. It took me a while to realize why and then I remembered I was in gun country and these characters are probably weary to not to ask the wrong person and take a bullet. For those who are against guns, it’s a logical argument that it does prevent solicitations which sometimes can lead to attacks from those desperate for money. I’m probably more on the anti-gun side, but it was eye-opening to see the results from the other side of the fence. Also in Albuquerque, the police presence is very overbearing –almost to a comical point. For example, during Friday and Saturday nights, the police routinely barricade the busy street which has all the bars (all seven of them) and they position about twelve police vehicles in the center of the road. Combined with that, there are police cars on almost every street corner and uniformed officers patrolling up and down the block. Saturday night was busier, but on the Friday there had to be more police outside on the streets than there were people in any of the bars. The militaristic presence of the police combined with a lot of gun owners can make panhandling a tricky proposition. Whether it was day or night, it seemed like a police car would pass by every ten minutes on the busier areas, not as much on the calm residential blocks.

           The bitter weather was wreaking havoc on my hands – the gloves I had bought from Chicago offered little defense against that cold wind from the mountains. I got lost trying to find the zoo, but a coffee shop cashier helped point me in the right direction, plus I need a hot cup to warm my fingers with. Much as would be the theme with my trip to Albuquerque, the zoo would’ve been more enjoyable during the warmer months. For the winter season they have to suspend many of the outside attractions like the gorillas or the exotic jungle parrots. That still didn’t prevent me from having a great time and I thoroughly took advantage of warming up indoors when possible. There’s a café and for lunch I tried an Albuquerque mainstay: the sapodilla. It’s a puff pastry served commonly with a side of rice and beans. Along with stuffed red or green chile, the people of Albuquerque are very big on their sapodillas. I tried mine with a nosy peacock staring in from the window. Back outside, one of my top attractions had to be the outside cats; mountain lions, cheetahs, and jaguars. There was a large polar bear, but he was basically asleep for most the time. The biggest surprise though came from a very common source; ducks and geese. The zoo has a large pond on the grounds and there had to be over a hundred of them. Best of all there is a quarter-machine for bird feed and once you crank in a coin, the birds hear it and flock over to you for a snack. Before I even knew it I had dozens of ducks surrounding me and they eat right out of your hand. I would’ve liked to stay longer, but my fingers were getting numbed beyond tolerable and I wanted to visit a railroad museum that was located somewhere along the track line the Amtrak uses. I gave the polar bear one last glance before heading out and he was still fast asleep. I took a long walk through the residential part of town, seeing how locals lived. The houses are low huts, similar to Florida, and brownish stone is the popular color. I saw many ‘For Sale’ and ‘For Rent’ signs; not sure if that means it’s an attractive area or if Albuquerque is still reeling from the 2008 economic crash.

           I was able to locate the street the museum is located on, but I couldn’t actually find the museum.  It was a tricky area to be walking around because there was a soup kitchen nearby with more transients present, plus there was a row of tents lined up against the railroad fence. It was basically skidrow with people living in tents while the outside temperature had to be in the teens with the wind-chill factor. Nobody appeared threatening, but I didn’t think it was wise to be hanging around that stretch of town. In order to blend in, I put my hoodie up like everyone else and walked hunched over like most of these transients do. I found a cab to drive to the museum’s address, but the place seemed closed (and very small), so I had the driver take me back. Once on the main street again, Central Avenue, I wandered into a classy restaurant called The Artichoke Café which had a very upscale cocktail lounge. I ordered up a Manhattan and it became love at first taste. This restaurant-bar became my bedrock during my stay in Albuquerque, I even celebrated New Year’s there. It came to the point by the second day the manager himself knew what I wanted and started mixing up a Manhattan before I had time to slip my jacket off. The newness of an undiscovered city and the zoo were pleasant so far, but The Artichoke Café was the first real hit of the trip! The atmosphere, the music, the scenery, was a perfect mix (such as their drink menu). I explained to the bartender that I wanted a snack really, so she recommended that the appetizers were probably too filling for what I was looking for, so I held off and had dinner hours later at a local pizzeria. I found it amusing they had a New York theme and even named pizza pies after various NY boroughs. I went with the eggplant parmigiana with pasta. It looked presentable but New York quality it wasn’t.

           The next day was New Year’s Eve, but from the looks of it one would’ve never known. There wasn’t much awareness in terms of signs or any sort of build-up as there is in New York. I had a busy scheduled ahead of me; my first stop was a long walk from the hotel to the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science. It was pretty standard in terms of dinosaur bones and meteors, but their best exhibit has to be the history of computers. From old Apple Computers I used in grade school to a chair Bill Gates once used for work, and not to forget a wall-sized game of pong; I found that much more interesting that the quartz and minerals. Next on the list, and only two minutes away on foot was the Albuquerque museum and their seasonal exhibit of the ‘gods and heroes’ paintings. It’s a full-sized art museum with other displays. There’s even a wing dedicated to Albuquerque’s infamous star, Vivian Vance, who played Lucy’s landlord and best friend in the classic TV series “I Love Lucy”. Admission for each museum was reasonably priced at around $8 dollars, with a dollar off for local residents. 

           It was around lunch time and I had indoor rock climbing ahead of me, so I stopped into Cocina Azul for red chile before taking a longer bus ride to get to the rock climbing place. The facility has a membership, but they also allow guests to pay for the day and rent out equipment, which is what I did. It was my first time trying this and they have different wall challenges – based on experienced. I stuck with the first-timers and found myself climbing up the walls next to twelve-year olds. Even with the gym gloves I had on and the chalk they spray all over, the plastic hand grips were ruining my palms. The weather outdoors had done wonders on cutting up the outside of my hand, now the rock climbing was cutting up the inside. That, and general fatigue from never done the exercise before, had me done after only forty-five minutes of climbing. Plus, I needed to get back to The Artichoke Café before happy hour ran out. For my official New Year’s Eve meal I opted for the all you can eat buffet at Am Spices of India. I’m not sure exactly what I was eating, but I was hoping the spices would warm me up for the frigid ride back to the hotel. The buses stop running around 10pm and I ran to the Alvarado Transportation Center to catch the last one out. Being in a different time zone than New York I didn’t feel that same New Year’s magic and didn’t even bother to watch the ball drop in Times Square. Much like the rest of Albuquerque, I treated it like any other day.

           New Year’s Day offered little since most every place was closed in recognition of the Holiday. During the morning a light dusting of snow covered the ground – a few inches at most. Even the junkie lady’s scarf was slightly covered. The bus line was also out of service that day so I walked towards the downtown area. I stopped into Garcia’s for breakfast since I agreed with their ‘breakfast anytime’ policy and had some healthy combo of fried pork tips with green chile, eggs, and beans. Of course, that included fresh flour tortillas on the side to dip into the chile sauce. Walking was the theme of the day; I walked and walked and walked, probably covering the majority of the downtown area. With everything closed there wasn’t much else to do but burn off all the food and Manhattans I had been consuming once I pulled into Albuquerque. Dinner that night was another ‘all you can eat’ scenario at A Taste of Brazil. What you do is they give you a short pole with one side green and one side red. When you have the green side up – servers will come to your table with a large skewer of meat/pork/fish, etc. and they’ll cut you off a piece. There’s also a buffet table for sides, but the point is to not fill up on that, use the stomach for those skewers. If the pole is on the red side that means the servers will leave you alone. A patron can keep going until they bust. I looked around at the other customers and there weren’t many skinny people to be found. 

           The next day businesses were back on their normal schedule and I was able to return to tourist mode. On the other side of the highway from my hotel is the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center. I really could’ve walked it, but not sure if there were sidewalks on the other side; I just took my trusty bus. The grounds were originally used for the Albuquerque Indian School from 1881 until the institution closed in 1982. The underline mission of the school was to more or less take the “savage” out of Native American children and integrate them into Anglo-American culture by teaching them English, and later on, a trade so that they could join the workforce. It was a boarding school and the US Government forced Native American children into this school which would then result in family divides as well as a list of other psychological traumas for the children. Within the past ten years the state government tried to make amends by offering the land to the Pueblo Nation and it was turned into a cultural center for arts and history of those peoples, but also recognizing the history of the Indian school with artifacts from the actual facility. The Pueblo Indians aren’t allowed to tell all their tribal customs to “outsiders” and there are certain sections in the center where photography is prohibited, but it’s a good insight into their world and a shameful reminder of how their culture was systematically evaporated by lopsided government policies.

           While exiting the cultural center there was remnants of a ginger bread house competition in the café section, separated by adult and child creations. I’m not sure if any Native Americans were responsible for making those, but they were so good they should’ve been in the museum as well. Hopping back onto the bus my next stop that day would be the Casa Rondeña Winery for a wine tasting. The flight, as they call it, includes three whites, two reds, and a dessert wine. The tasting room has a standing bar, but afterwards if you want a full glass of any of the samples, there’s a patio in the backyard plus and indoor couch area with a large fireplace. The lady behind the bar told me the place is packed at standing room only during the summer, but with winter I pretty much had the whole place to myself, except a few other patrons. She also informed me that although California’s Napa Valley is the largest wine region in America, New Mexico was the original hotspot for wine making in the country.  They make their wines on the premises and have bottles for sale, but I explained it would be difficult to add more weight to my carry-on luggage. I found a liking to one of the red wines and took a glass by the fireplace. I was in the room all by myself with only the crackling sounds of the fire. On each trip or vacation there’s “that moment” which serves as the highlight; laying back on a comfortable couch with a glass of wine and a fireplace – that was it! There was only one day left and although I knew I wasn’t going to top the Casa Rondeña Winery, was going to try. I first crept into Old Town which is more of a tourist trap if anything else with endless shops of t-shirts and Native American jewelry, but the architecture of some of those old buildings are quite remarkable. I would equate it to Times Square; if you’re a tourist you should just see it once and that’s good enough. I put another winery on the Itinerary, this time the St. Clair Winery & Bistro.

           They too have a wine tasting flight of whites and reds, but the place is more geared towards their restaurant and not the tasting segment. Everything is done at the bar and there were no lounges or patios such as Casa Rondeña had. After that was a very long walk towards the hotel, but not first stopping off at the New Mexico Steam Locomotive and Railroad Historical Society. The place is only open twice I week for the public and luckily I was there on one of those days. It’s a group of diehard railroad enthusiast who are currently working on a Baldwin 4-8-4 Steam Locomotive; basically refurbishing the entire engine piece by piece with the goal of having it operational by Fall 2015. I never fully understood what made a steam engine work until visiting this place and seeing all the inside mechanisms. Similar to a telephone wire, the inside of a steam engine is hundreds upon hundreds of thin metal tubes cramped together, pushing the steam (created from the mixture of burning coal and water), down these tubes back and forth and that creates the combustion of energy to power the wheels. Members of the society spend most of their free days from sunrise to sunset working on this massive engine. Another interesting nugget I learned was that the infamous Santa Fe Railroad never actually goes anywhere near Santa Fe, NM. It simply bears the name. I made a small donation to get a Santa Fe hat and said goodbye to the guard cats on the way out. There were other considerations for that final day in Albuquerque, such as a hot air balloon ride which go for about $200 per person. It’s one of the things Albuquerque is most known for and one could say, “How can you go there and not do a hot air balloon ride?” I’m not sure if I would’ve enjoyed myself dangling up in the cold winter air with some stranger for three hours, plus $200 was a little pricey. There were other outdoor attractions I could’ve visited, but a lot of things are closed down in Albuquerque during the winter months. If there was anything to take away I would categorize Albuquerque as more of a summer destination and overall I probably stayed a couple of days longer than I needed. It was worth checking out for one time, but I didn’t find all that much that would draw me back. In no way is it a “party town” and the only young people I saw were the street transients and the indoor rock climbers.

           The ride back was a little shorter with only a two-hour layover in Chicago and a straight ride to New York without a detour to Washington, DC. A nasty cold blast had hit the Midwest by this time and crossing over the Mississippi River I looked down and saw it was one gigantic block of frozen ice. Getting to Chicago on time was in danger from the snow and cold weather causing malfunctions with the track signals. Every once in a while the train had to stand still until the signals were properly working again. Other passengers were freaking out about missing their connections and many did, such as those going to places like Milwaukee, Detroit, and Washington DC. I was growing very nervous about missing my connection to New York as heavy snow kept falling from the skies. Even if I made it to Chicago on time, I also had to worry that there would be no cancellations or delays. I was already away from home for nearly eight days, three of those spent on trains; I dreaded any further wait for a hot shower and a warm bed. Thankfully, the train made it to Chicago in time for my connection and although a thick blanket of snow covered the tracks; the tonnage of the train blew out of Chicago like nothing. I couldn’t have been any more happier. For an added treat, there weren’t that many riders headed to New York, so I had the benefit of an empty seat for the entire ride to Penn Station. If I thought I was nuts taking a train all the way to New Mexico, there were other passengers going to New York who had originated from Los Angeles and Oregon. It was the only time during my trip that I actually slept in my seat at night and not in the café or observation car. My hands took a rather nasty beating from the brutal cold and wind I experienced in Chicago and Albuquerque. There were wind burns on both outer regions of my hands, with many cuts from dried skin. My legs were also worn out from walking endlessly across town with freezing temperatures most of the time. All that from expecting sunny 80 degree weather when I first planned the trip.

           It was the Holiday Week and there wasn’t much else to do…….