Archive – Day 1
Saturday, April 10, 1993
Looking Back...
On the first day of the trip, we boarded Amtrak’s California Zephyr in Reno, Nevada, bound for New York City via Chicago. It was rather late in the afternoon, and our train was so full that they seated us in the parlour car, and it wasn’t until 4am in Salt Lake City that we got regular seats. Overbook much, Amtrak?
We are now on the train! But first I will share a few of the forethoughts that I had about the trip. While sitting in the station I felt the same about the upcoming trip as I do about the upcoming turn of the century: it is in the future, and all things in the future hold the same feeling for me. They are yet to come and require no serious consideration until they arrive.
Even now, while actually on the train, I am concentrating on the present only and very little on the future and anything in it. That, I suppose, is the way I have become. Of course I see a great deal of dispassion in that way of thinking, but know not how to solve it. Maybe I will have to work on it and weed out the good from the bad of that policy.
Also I have no excitement about the trip, more of that disturbing trend of dispassion I have been noticing in my life recently!
Ah, the desert. Most of my prejudices against the desert stem from images of heat and voids of sand. Even deserts are subject to stereotypes. And, I am one who buys into these stereotypes. But these deserts, Nevadan deserts, differ. They are, although hot, filled almost to capacity with vegetation. Granted, they are mostly shrubs and “weeds”, but still they are unlike the stereotype. I feel no hatred towards this desert right now. Of course, that may be due to the low temperatures, yet still the situation exists.
But, as unsure as I am about my feelings towards the desert, I am equally sure about my love for the forest. And one of the few parts of the train ride I am looking forward to is the ride through the Rockies tomorrow.
We are now heading due north. Odd.
It is now half past eight and utterly dark outside. Inside the train is light enough for all practical purposes, but the windows are black mirrors, showing only occasional hints of transparency when an outside light comes into view, a solitary reminder that there is a world outside the train after all.
The proprietor of the downstairs cafe has been having some mindless fun with a little Easter egg game. She currently has the entire train searching for a purple egg with “Happy Easter” written on it. She has a five-dollar incentive for any lucky soul.
Dad’s in one of his huffy depressions again. It seems as though he is eternally dissatisfied, this time with the conditions of our accommodations. He is now jealous of the other coach cars and their darkened silence. It does seem that we are in a car which is not supposed to house passengers as their reserved seats, but that is irrelevant. What is important is that he cannot be satisfied with our car the way it is. Of course, I am reminded of my hypocrisy in the fact that I get annoyed if everything does not work out exactly for me. I suppose this is the same type of situation for him.
Now that we have gotten the lights turned off, I find a certain peace in the darkness, the steady hum of the air conditioning, the passing of orange-lit industrial buildings, and I find I am content. This serene state of mind is one that I cannot find easily anymore, and it is the reason I left my problems at home. Only by leaving my troubles behind can I find the peace of mind to have such moments. No worrying, no thinking, just pure living and savoring the present. That is what I came to find on this vacation, and that is just what I have found. May the next three weeks be prolific with that feeling.
Good night, moon.
