Train Diaries Part Two

Hour 40- Portage la Prairie, Manitoba

Truly in the prairies now- wheat, canola, grain elevators (of both the new and old schools) and general flatness, the whole shebang. You know when places look exactly how you expect them to? My only exposure to the prairies before now was gained from reading Who Has Seen the Wind when I was about 12 and Little House on the Prairie when I was maybe 8, but I have to say, it measures up to my rather dubious information, right down to the last swooping meadow lark and faded clapboard farmhouse.

Canola must be in season because quite a few of the fields we’re passing are full of bright yellow flowers that resemble the one on the front of my oil bottle back home. It’s quite pretty, and there’s lots of little ponds along the track with ducks and even the occasional beaver lodge.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the world’s largest can of Coca Cola

Travelling alone means getting thrown in with other singletons at meals (standing with the people you want to sit with doesn’t help, the waiter totally just points and sends you to random seats and they look at you like you just flipped over a table if you make a half-hearted attempt to seat yourself), so I ended up eating lunch with a retired surveyor named Robert, an elderly guy who asked to be called Skip and the sole other person in my general demographic to be found on the train- Owen who writes crime fiction. I learned a lot more than I ever knew there was to know about the America’s Cup (it’s a sailing tournament, for example). Tried out the shower again after lunch and I can confirm that the drain does indeed open on to the track. It’s a bit breezy. I think I have my sea-legs or rail legs or whatever. I even appear somewhat sober now when walking down the halls.

And now I’ve re-installed myself in the dome car to write and watch the fields pass some more.

Hour 44– SASKATCHEWAN 

It’s sort of alarming how little I can do in a day and still be tired. I have seriously sat still and drank coffee for two days straight, I have no right to yawn. I went to see the guitarist play again and bought a CD because 1) it’s good stuff and 2) after following someone around and becoming their number one fan, seeing as they’re the most exciting thing going on at the moment and you’re tired of reading, one feels sort of obliged to.

His name’s Victor Nesrallah by the way, check it out- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IHYdmOYg1QI

It’s funny, after being forced to spend so much time together with strangers, you really start to notice other people’s habits. We all sort of have our spots, and there are people who always claim the same seats in the dome car, some who always stay in their bunks, etc. Some of them even manage to arrive only when their seats are free in a way that indicates supernatural abilities. And the fact that I am noticing all this let’s you know that I am just about ready to get off this train.

Hour 54- Can’t tell, it’s dark

I ate dinner with Owen, Robert, and the pediatric dermatologist from the first day. I may not have moved in any sort of significant way, but someone told me once that laughing really hard for 10 minutes is a respiratory workout equivalent to half an hour on the treadmill, and I laughed for about 4 times that so I figure I’m set.

Afterwards Owen and I headed to the very last car on the train (it was a pretty arduous journey considering how swervy the train got all of a sudden) which is this totally crazy 50’s style sitting room, pretty much. It tapers towards the back and it has a bar and these big, blue vinyl arm chairs and big windows. I felt a bit like I needed kid gloves, a cigarette holder and a Manhattan. It was a neat spot to watch the sun set. It was nice to hang out with someone in my general age range- everyone’s lovely but it begins to feel a bit like being at your parent’s dinner party, and I’m getting verrrry good at introducing myself. Victor (the guitarist) stopped by and we talked hitch-hiking and sports fanaticism. Hanging out back there as the sun went down and the country passed by was one of those “mhm, this is what backpacking across the country feels like” moments, the kind of moments travel writers write about. Wow, I’m finally having the sort of moments that people write about

Hour 64- Just Past Edmonton

I was up earlier than I have been since my kilt-wearing, trek-downtown-to-school days because the three small children and their mother with whom I was sharing my car were getting off when we pulled into Edmonton at 6 (thus the little guys were very excited very early). VIA decided to go all fancy (I’m reading it as cheap) and serve brunch today instead of breakfast and lunch, it being Sunday and us being ultra-classy train passengers. Oh man, I forgot to tell you about my minor heart attack the first night when I overheard two people discussing whether it would be mandatory to dress up for dinner. I was wearing a flannel shirt and my other option was a hoodie, so I immediately had visions of munching on trail mix in my bunk at dinner hour. But not to worry, they were just keen. Plaid was very in, in dining car B.

I spent the first few hours of the day hanging out with Edith and her mother (the two I ate lunch and dinner with on Day One) in the activity car, they’re lovely and the first of my train friends. Later I tried to find my way back to my car but they added new ones in Edmonton so everything got confusing and I missed it by a mile. Yes, I got (slightly) lost on a train, land of two directional options.

They added a new dome car, one that’s not up a flight of stairs like the first, as well. We were all like small animals with a new rock dropped in their territory- nosing around and walking through a couple times before settling down and adopting it as our own. I’m getting psyched for the mountains now. The land is getting just a bit more hilly, the trees are getting just a tad more tall and wild looking. Maybe its the caffeine or the forced confinement, but I can’t sit still. The whole world is right out there and I want to see all of it.

HOUR 68- SO CLOSE

We hit the mountains with a startling suddenness. Out of nowhere, the trees were immense and ragged and wild, there were waterfalls and rapids and peaks on the horizon. We wound our way along the Athabasca and I swear if felt like finding the freaking promised land. I know I love mountains, I know on an intellectual level how they make me feel every time my Ontario born-and-raised self is dropped in their midst, but the way suddenly finding myself rocketing between them after all this time and preparation felt is something I can’t explain. Well, I could, but it would be way cheesy and something no one needs to read. With delays, we’re about two hours out of Jasper now, and I sure hope I remembered to pack my stuff this morning because there is no way I am tearing myself away from this window until we pull in.

One of the reasons I’m glad I did this trip by train was that you can really feel the distance traveled, more than flying for example. When you fly, you just up and transplant yourself to this whole new place and on a deeper level you can’t quite fathom how you came to be there, even when logic is making sense of it. On the train you watch the miles flicker by, you see and feel every field and hamlet and bumpy stretch of track along the way. It actually feels like I have crossed a country, I can visualize the vast inbetweens and appreciate that I am really, really far from home.

Hour 70- Jasper, Alberta

I made it, I’m here. Melissa is meeting me in the station, and people are moving so I have to get going. More to come!

Update– I didn’t have a chance to post this last night, but I met Melissa and her boyfriend Ryan and we hung out and made dinner and it was fabulous. I’m going to do some exploring in town today, and do a short hike to what I am told is an awesome view. It’s about 8 degrees Fahrenheit here, and I’m slightly regretting my shorts-to-pants ratio but all part of the adventure, am I right? Hugs to you all!

Posted by Kelsea in Uncategorized