Though I would love to profess to be, I am not a world
traveler. Sure, I have been across the
Pacific to both Japan and Hong Kong, but most of the world is still a mystery
to me. Though the idea of journeying to more exotic places is alluring, I wonder if travel is something I truly covet as my strongest memories aren't of palatial buildings or luminescent landscapes but surround instead the recollection of how cramped seats and close proximity to at least one other person
makes me a little crazy only hours into any flight.
Growing up in a frugal family I was taught that the added
expense of first class are an unnecessary splurge. My time on the train thus far has made me
seriously reconsider this education. While I can understand and appreciate the
sentiment of saved dollars, there is a lot to be said about having enough room
next to you to stretch out and appreciate the trip.
I know Lewis would agree as the rarified air of, at minimum, monthly trips across vast oceans has a way of granting almost any individual expert
status on the difference between toiling away in economy class and that
glorious upgrade to business. The horrors of travel conversation came up when
he realized that he only had upgrades enough for either he or Kelley to travel business class on
their weekend jaunt to San Diego. As it
turns out, that minute difference between a two and a three seat row and an
extra 6 inches of legroom means a world of difference in comfort to just about
everyone.
Knowing that Lewis would give up his business class seat to sit with his wife, I suggested the train. I fear this fell upon poignantly deaf ears.
I guess not everyone shares my appreciation of this type of
travel, though I bet many would if they had more free time. And that is the catch; to travel by train one needs time, patience and perspective. Thankfully, I have at least a semblance of all three.
Perhaps it is the sense of possible
adventure that keeps me moving, or maybe it is the odd feeling of nostalgia elicited from the
perpetual clicking of the train’s wheels; either way, I have found that even across durations longer than
any plane ride, the feelings of anxiousness and soreness have so far eluded me.
I would soon put this to the test with an extended trek
to Chicago.
35 hours on a train doesn't seem like a long time, but then I calculated that this meant a full day and a half of confinement, and that would be with no delays. But that is the trade-off, time for comfort. You have to accept that, especially in heavy
freight districts that can make you feel like an LA commuter during rush hour, a trip by train will just take time. If you can embrace the ability to stretch out and relax as you sit and wait though, it is an incomparable experience.
This is the best thing about traveling on a train,
you actually get a chance to watch as the world passes by. With no ability to get anywhere quickly you have endless
hours to read, write or just sit back and watch the
country unfold in front of you. And what
a country it is.
During the course of my life I have been fortunate enough to have seen much of this great land. By plane and by car, I have marveled at the distinct beauty
and uniqueness of different regions and landscapes. What I marvel most at though is the pervasive commonality of people and scenery I feel exuded
from everywhere I go; something always reminds me of home.
The best part is that you get to see and experience it all from a different perspective. Not only are you cutting
through patches of earth no cars have access to, you are doing so with the
freedom to just sit and stare at the sheer magnitude of
mountains, the rolling hills of the Midwest, and the plentiful wild beasts
looking up with an apathetic awareness as you whiz by.
If you ever get the chance I highly recommend a trip, even
one as short as a couple of hours. Bring a book, a laptop or
just stare out the window and watch as the world you often breeze
through comes slowly back into focus.
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