There are two options. Arrive in Chicago as planned, enjoy the book release party, then fall back into the resigned and defeated state I have existed in for the past month or more, watching my spirit continue west from the Windy City towards Seattle on Amtrak's "Empire Builder" train. Or the choice I know I have to make: let it all go and come back home ready to fight.
To be honest, the former choice sounds like the better option. I do not feel ready to move on, wherever "on" takes me. I still find it hard to breathe some days. Small things trigger emotional breakdowns I have never had to deal with before. Avoidance still seems favorable to facing the music. For the first time in my life I do not feel like I can overcome. I can tell myself that all the extra preparations with research and languages will make the eventual trip even better, and that might even be true, but the only thing I feel is numb.
Originally I had invited all my friends to join me at Penn Station, to wish me goodbye before a very long journey. Instead I arrive discreetly and alone, just wanting to slip away unnoticed. Early enough to catch a train to Washington, D.C. scheduled an hour before mine, I change my ticket quickly and escape the terminal earlier than expected to find myself seated on the "Northeast Regional" to the nation's capital.
In the beginning it is just like a ride to Newark Airport, but the train to D.C. slides by most stations without stopping and is soon in Trenton and then Philadelphia and then Baltimore. The capital arrives without incident, as the train passes and forgets the toughest neighborhoods of the cities it traverses. In rural parts of the country the train station is the center of town, right on Main Street, and everyone knows when the train pulls into town. But in urban centers, the train station usually exists in the part of town that probably makes a lot of passengers wary of alighting.
In D.C. this is not really the case, as a five-minute walk brings me to the Capitol Building. I am unable to take in any of the Neoclassical gems of this grand old structure though, as two nutcases are spewing hate under the cause of spreading Jesus' word. This being the weekend of a gay march on Washington, it was them that these two monsters were using their megaphone to hate. Hate with the goal of love, war with the goal of peace. We are a supremely misguided species.
The rest of my meander down The Mall is less eventful as I waste time between trains, walk some city streets, and take the Metro back to Union Station. Another 45 minutes pass and I am on the "Capitol Limited" to Chicago.
My fellow passengers are a mix of retired couples, people who can't afford planes, and people who do not fit on planes. The fat people mainly keep to themselves. The poor people enjoy themselves with games and jovial conversation amongst their traveling companions. If solitude is what you seek, the retired couples are the people you must avoid eye contact with at all cost. They spread out their maps and ask everyone around them "Where are you going?" The question is usually geared toward showing off their own itineraries and getting involved in history lessons. I hear bits and pieces about the various landmarks, waterways, and towns we are passing.
I am also surprised by the sheer volume of people that seem to be taking their very first and realize the comfort and joy involved in this mode of transportation. But in mid-October night arrives fairly early and as we are crossing the mountains along the Maryland-West Virginia border the sky explodes into bright oranges and pinks shortly before extinguishing until the next morning. The lounge car quickly empties of everyone now that the view is gone and becomes a very peaceful place to spend a few hours before attempting sleep.
I am back before dawn as sleep never comes easy in an upright position. A symphony of snoring from people more successful than me surrounds my seat and becomes unbearable. As light of day finally arrives, a thin blanket of frost covers the fields and cars near the Ohio-Indiana border, fitting foreshadow for my destination city stereotyped for cold temperatures. The Midwest is always somewhat monotonous by interstate but train travel brings you close enough to enjoy the details of each town or pasture you cross.
These and more photos from the train/DC/Chicago are available on my travel blog:
No comments:
Post a Comment