A 4:30 alarm woke me up on Christmas morning; no, we weren’t helping Santa deliver gifts; we had a 6:30 flight out of LaGuardia to Chicago. A cold shower and strong coffee woke me up.
My wife Esther and I planned this trip four months earlier. I watched a lot of YouTube videos while recovering from knee replacement surgery. I kept returning to DownieLive, Trek Trendy, and Jeb Brooks’ videos of cross-country train travel.
For the past 8 years, parenting and caring for my aging mom have turned me into a homebody. When I learned that traveling through the Rocky Mountains by train was also on my wife’s bucket list, we went online and booked the trip.
Many consider Amtrak’s California Zephyr to be one of the most beautiful ways to see America. We booked our trip in August and secured the last family bedroom for me, Esther, and our son Cristian, but there was one problem: our train departed Chicago’s Union Station at 2 PM on Christmas Day. So, we shook things up, combining Christmas Eve and Christmas Day into one.
We arrived in Chicago at 8 AM local time, and I learned that most businesses were closed on Christmas Day. That was a new concept for a native New Yorker, who could find a diner, coffee shop, or bagel store open year-round. So, we grabbed breakfast at O’Hare Airport’s United Airlines terminal.
After breakfast, we took a cab to Union Station, checked our bags, and settled into Amtrak’s Metropolitan Lounge at 9 AM. The extended wait was a good thing. The excitement of the trip made Cristian extremely anxious. Binge-watching episode after episode of Bluey on Disney+ in the kid’s lounge gave him time to adjust to his new environment.
The 5-hour break allowed Esther to search for shampoo and toothpaste larger than the TSA-approved 3-ounce containers. We also stocked up on snacks in case Cristian didn’t like the food served on the train.
We boarded our train at 2 PM and were greeted by the train crew, all dressed in festive Christmas sweaters. Our porter, Carl, had a sweater with Snoopy on it. I liked him immediately.
The family bedroom had a window on each side of the car and a couch that ran the width of the train. It converted to a bed, and a top bunk dropped down from above. The side of the car was converted into two child-sized bunks. Cristian immediately settled in with his favorite stuffed animal and a few toys. Esther streamed The Polar Express on her iPad, and we alternated between that and watching Cristian point out windmills and silos in the rural Illinois countryside.
We were given the option of a 5:30 PM or 6:30 PM dinner, and I said 6:30 without thinking. I didn’t account for the long day, different time zones, and the day’s excitement. Cristian knocked out shortly after we were seated in the dining car.
Carl quickly converted our car from a living room to a bedroom. That was the easy part; getting a 70-pound, half-asleep child through two railroad cars and down a flight of stairs as the train bounced like a ping-pong ball took some doing.
We went to sleep shortly after Cristian. There’s something about getting 90 minutes of sleep that makes you crave more.
Esther took the top bunk; she said she was used to it from childhood and college dorm rooms. Neither of us slept much as the train bounced through half of Iowa and all of Nebraska.
We woke up the next morning at 4:30 local time somewhere in Colorado. I checked the weather on my phone and saw there was a Holiday Week Storm Alert. Several states from North Dakota through Colorado were marked purple, pink, and blue, denoting Ice Storm, Blizzard Watch, or Winter Storm Watch. Looking closely at the map, I worried Amtrak would cancel our trip before we reached the Rockies.
We grabbed an early breakfast, and we were ready for our scheduled stop in Denver at 7:15. We had 40 minutes to stretch our legs while we checked out Denver’s Union Station. New York City barely had any snow over the past two winters, so Cristian enjoyed stomping through as much of it as he could. In Denver, I tried to find the one thing that Amtrak didn’t have: a decent cup of coffee. Sadly, the line at the Pilgrim Coffee Company was too long. So, we took a few pictures, took a peek at downtown Denver, and rushed back to the train, so it didn’t leave without us.
From Denver, we started the slow trek up the Rocky Mountains. Both sides of the observation car filled quickly with iPhone-toting passengers. Those who couldn’t score a seat in the observation car pointed their phones out their roomette windows, recording the scenic Colorado countryside.
Carl told me not to worry. The staff cleared the Observation Car after the train stopped in Winter Park, to give the other passengers a chance to view the scenery.
No one on the train enjoyed Winter Park’s fresh air stop more than Cristian. He rushed off the train and jumped headfirst into a pile of fluffy snow. Carl and the other porters chuckled as he rolled around, making snow angels.
I tried scoring a seat in the Observation Car shortly after we re-boarded the train. I was pissed because many of the same people were in the same seats they had when we left Denver. Fortunately, Irene, a traveler from Iowa, and Robert, a cowboy from Louisiana, asked me to join them at their table. We drank a few beers, swapped a few stories, and admired some Colorado scenery until Esther and Cristian met me for lunch.
After lunch, Esther and Cristian joined me in the observation car. The car thinned out as the snow-capped mountains and frozen rivers were replaced with beautiful sandstone cliffs as we entered the Ruby Canyon.
Cristian stayed awake for dinner and devoured Amtrak’s Flatiron Steak, but after dinner, Cristian and I turned in early. I took the top bunk, offering Esther a shot at a decent night’s sleep, and was out cold at 7 PM local time.
The sounds of Cristian’s tablet woke me up at 5:15 the next morning in Winnemucca, Nevada. After showering, we went up for breakfast at 6:30. I’m sure several passengers weren’t thrilled when Cristian kept asking me, “Dad, are they sleeping?” a little too loudly as we passed their roomettes on our way to the dining car.
Sitting across from us, Robert the Cowboy was having an animated conversation with two new friends. I noticed the terrain changed again; the Ruby Canyon that welcomed us to Utah was replaced by the sun rising over the Nevada desert.
After breakfast, I grabbed a cup of mediocre coffee as we watched the desert, bathed in morning sunlight, zip past us at 65 miles per hour. Cristian got restless after about half an hour, so Esther took him back to the room so he could play with his tablet. When they left, I struck up a conversation with a charming gentleman named Greg. We talked about rail travel, the desert, and watches; he was wearing a beautiful Breitling.
We chatted for about an hour before getting up as the train approached Reno. Greg lived in Reno and Esther wanted to get a few pictures during our “ten-minute stop.” Seeing the long line of passengers boarding the train, I felt ambitious. So, while Esther took pictures of Cristian with the Sierra Nevada mountains behind him, I ventured off three blocks to get a picture of the Reno Arch.
I had to wait a few minutes for an empty street. When I got my shot, I started worrying if I’d make it back before the train left. Five years ago, this would have been a non-issue, but I was older, carrying an extra 30 pounds, and had knee replacement surgery 6 months earlier.
I didn’t see Esther or Cristian as I got close to the station. I hoped they had the good sense to get back on the train, but I knew better. I started making mental plans to get to San Francisco from Reno because I knew Esther would never leave me behind. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw passengers still boarding the train and Esther and Cristian on the staircase waiting for me.
Shortly after crossing the border into California, I passed a cute little town named Truckee. We saw farms and vineyards as we trekked through Northern California. Cristian picked out cows, sheep, and an adorable baby goat as we ate lunch.
After lunch, we started gathering our things as we approached Sacramento. The next stop was Emeryville, and our final destination. We arrived at 4:30 in the afternoon, which was pretty close to our scheduled arrival time.
It was raining lightly when we arrived at Emeryville. We said goodbye to Carl as he helped Esther with her bags, and we waited for an Uber to take us to our hotel. After 52 hours on a train, we were ready for four days in San Francisco and the next part of our vacation.
I enjoyed our Amtrak experience. It was a bit pricey, and our room was a bit dated, but the customer service was top-notch. The trip was a great way to see the country, without the stress of driving it. Slowing down allowed us to enjoy family time and admire the scenery together. The trip allowed me to cross an item off my bucket list.
Now I have to check the weight limit for an open cockpit biplane ride.