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An American Tale
Part I: Amtrak-ing in
the West
On that memorable first trip to the US in 1995,
I fell in love with backpacking,
I fell in love with trains ...
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Armed with a 30-day "Far West Rail Pass" from Amtrak, the
US national railway - and a whole host of other items in my
luggage which I was to later find out to be unnecessary dead
weight (hey, this was my first backpacking trip after all!) -
I embarked upon sunny Los Angeles as the start of my great
Amerika journey, with a great
stumble. |
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Okay, it wasn't that bad. Just that I hadn't learnt how to
balance my backpack and made the fatal mistake of bending down
to pick up something, instead of squatting down slowly
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weight on my back. So it was a tad embarrassing to lose one's
balance and had to be helped up by the driver who fetched me
to my hotel in Anaheim (whom I have had to tip generously to
refrain him from rolling on the floor with laughter). But it
was still a wonderful beginning - to my one month of absolute
freedom...
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Freedom, alas, I found came with a price: hassle and more
comedy of errors. After an overdose of saccharine theme parks
in touristy LA (see Los
Angeles section), I was gaining confidence in my new-found
independence and feeling proud at my adeptness in planning the
exciting train expeditions ahead, starting with the easy short
connection from Anaheim to LA. |
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With a keen sense of anticipation, I hopped onto the first
vehicle that came. Hm, why did it look so much like the
MRT (Singapore subway) back home? Oh dear, those seats
didn't look too comfortable for long journeys... I arrived at
the huge LA Union Station wondering why my ticket was never
collected by anyone. And the penny finally |
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dropped. I
was on a subway. Coming from tiny Singapore where we
are not given to travelling long distances, and being
generally "swah-gu" (i.e. mountain tortoise, or ignorant)
about tracks being used by different types of trains, I had
taken the Metrolink instead of the Amtrak.
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Well, we learn something new everyday, don't we? And I did
get to my destination, by hook or by crook (oops, thank
goodness I wasn't caught). |
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How could I have mistaken a subway for the real thing?!
Amtrak trains were fantastic, superb, spacious, and all I
imagined the setting for a romantic railway odyssey to be.
With tremendous relief, I sank into the big and comfy seat
with plenty of leg-space, feeling like a queen in a
first-class airplane seat. |
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And thus, I embarked on my first memorable train voyage - a
33-hour sojourn on The Coast Starlight from
Los Angeles to Seattle,
with dramatic views of the Pacific Ocean coast, sometimes with
the water edges right below the window, and subsequently
giving way to gorgeous views of fertile wine valleys, dense
forests and snow-covered
mountains. |
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Trains offer a closeness that road vehicles can never quite
achieve, les they fall over of course. And it helped that this
train, one of Amtrak's most popular and scenic, had a lounge
car with full-length window views all round and a wacky crew
adding to the fun atmosphere, as it wound en route through
Santa Barbara, Monterey, San Francisco, Oakland, Sacramento,
the Cascades, Albany, Oregon City, Portland and Puget
Sound. |
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My passion for railway travelling was forever sealed when I
woke up, in the wee hours of dawn, to the wondrous sight of
the train encircling the edge of a snow-clad
volcano. |
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My next trek was on the now-defunct Pioneer from Seattle to Denver.
It was a relatively sedate ride in comparison to the Coast
Starlight, but it was cool to be travelling through 4
states, viz Oregon, Idaho, Utah and
Wyoming. |
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The highlight was definitely the spectacular Columbia River
Gorge - some 130 miles (or 3 solid hours) of unusual rock
formations, sand-dune like hills, waterfalls, hydroelectric
dams, bridges, monuments, etc. |
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The latter half of the journey was less eventful being
mainly high plains desert country, with occasional
buffalo-spotting for distraction. It did give me time to do
other mundane chores (er, the hassle part about absolute
freedom), like mending stuff that had given way, more
travel-planning, and yes, I had discovered the delight of
discarding objects (a miracle considering I had been an
accumulator of junk all my life and had, before this
pilgrimage, never been known to throw away anything, to the
annoyance of a certain lady I call
"Mum"). |
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I was to catch all my remaining itinerary on Amtrak with no
trouble: The
California Zephyr from Denver to San
Francisco, the San Joaquins/Southwest Chief
connections from San Francisco to Arizona,
and back to LA again on the Southwest Chief for my
flight back home. According to my by-now "rich expertise" on
railway travel, my verdict on the best train trip in the US
has got to be the California Zephyr. It traces the
historical trail of the pioneers, the gold prospectors, the
pony express and the telegraph to the golden city of San
Francisco. There is one word that sums it all:
awesome. |
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The adventure began with a blast as we climbed straight
into the panoramic front range of the Colorado Rockies. The
railway coaches erupted with euphoric cheers and delighted
"oohs" and "aahs" as the train plunged into the South Boulder
Canyon, with its splendid jutting rock formations and a series
of 29 tunnels in quick succession. Emerging from the longest 6
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Moffat Tunnel, where we crossed the Continental Divide at a
dizzying altitude, we entered into winter wonderland, it
seemed! Actually, it was Fraser Winter Park Ski Resort.
Gleeful with joy was I when we had a 10-minute stop and I had
my first encounter with real powdered snow. Never mind the
bemused expressions of my fellow American passengers, a couple
of Malaysian passengers and I, having come from a tropical
"snow-starved" region, played like berserk kids who couldn't
stop grinning from ear to ear.
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The elation did not stop there. Thereafter, the course
continued through the mountains |
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lovely Colorado River for miles and miles, with breathtaking
canyons as backdrop. There was the Gore Canyon with sheer rock
walls towering 1,500 feet over the river, the Red Canyon whose
resplendent rock formations inspired the Spanish to name this
place and river "Colorado" (meaning red), and the Glenwood
Canyon whose concentric highways for vehicles in either
direction were cut into the rock walls and, together with the
railway tracks, interwoven into the valley in an amazing
engineering feat.
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Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end and the
aptly-named Ruby Canyon, glowering mysteriously and hauntingly
in the sunset, marked the climatic end to the glorious run of
the Colorado valley. Sure, there was still the Sierra Nevada
range to go but it paled in comparison to the paradise I had
witnessed. |
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I have since traveled on the rail often but none quite as
singularly beautiful as this incredible stretch. My only
regret was not having been able to capture it on film. Those
were the days when I was still using an auto-focus camera and
had not upgraded to a SLR (single lens reflex camera). But
perhaps, with the knowledge of shutter speeds, apertures and
the importance of immobility which I picked up with the SLR, I
would not have |
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snapped with the
abandon and spontaneity that I did, never mind that the train
was travelling at breakneck speed. Surprisingly, some shots
did turn out clear and they serve as a useful index for the
most everlasting record of them all - the vivid images forever
imprinted on my mind.
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Having lived in a city all my life, I was not too keen on
visiting Los Angeles, except that it happened to be the
location where my air ticket took me. And, of course, it seems
to be the cliché thing for all visitors to America to do
before one can "validly" declare that one has toured the
States. |
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Well, if I had to do it, I might as well explore the
neighbourhood where both my sisters had spent considerable
time for study and work respectively and which they both had
warned me to be careful about. "Do not take the subway; do not
take the bus", I was solemnly told. Having already gone on the
former by the master stroke of some grand design above (okay,
it was a "malu" (i.e. sheepish) incident where I had taken the
wrong train - see Rail
section), I might as well try the latter which was called
"DASH". |
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And so I "dashed" leisurely from place to place in downtown
LA with no incident. It did not feel unsafe at all, with
plenty of office-attired local folks on them. The city was
mostly grey |
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there were some nice stately buildings like the Library and
the University of Southern California, my sister's alma mater.
The Chinatown was huge and it was the only site in my entire
trip that I heard familiar Mandarin being spoken, instead of
the more common Cantonese.
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Now for the theme parks, starting with the grand dame of
them all: Disneyland. I had
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to choose a Sunday
to go. Boisterous crowds and screaming kids everywhere, my
entire day was spent moving from one snaking queue to another
without bothering to find out what the line was for. I went by
the "wise" motto that if it were long, it must be good. Some
of the rides like Star Tours, Magic Eye Theatre, Indiana Jones
Adventure, Jungle Cruise and Splash Mountain were enjoyable,
although I found them too quick and over all too soon, in
comparison to the lengthy waits for them.
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The highlight had to be the procession which, at the time I
was there, featured the Lion King Celebration. I had not seen
the movie before but immensely enjoyed the energetic music,
vibrant colour and ingenious imagination that went behind the
floats and performers' get-up. |
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The Disney folks are very good at what they are doing, I
have to admit, and that is entertaining the kids in us all.
Well, I did get a picture with a famous rodent named "Mickey"
at his abode where I discovered that his reading habits
included the title, "Gone with the
Cheese". |
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In contrast, Universal Studios Hollywood
was more adult fare. I thoroughly appreciated the guides'
sense of humour in not taking themselves too seriously. After
all, as one of them put it, all the building facades were
constructed from Holly-wood, literally speaking! It was
show-time, all make-believe, and the fun was in discovering
how they created the special effects. These were really
impressive, especially the Backlot Tram Tour where we
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flood waters coming at us, drove through a parting Red Sea,
and survived an exciting simulated earthquake. Other exhibits
which I liked were the classic Back To The Future and magical
E.T. rides. Oh, I love the movies...
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However, two attractions on consecutive days were enough
for me to suffer from a case of theme park fatigue. There were
other spots worth a visit, I was told, like Six Flags Magic
Mountain and Knott's Berry Farm. Another time, perhaps, when I
feel like calling on LA again - to get an autograph from a
duck called "Donald". |
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