Track work north of Penn Station in New York forced our train from Montreal to wait in Albany for an hour, hook up with a train from Toronto, and detour to New Rochelle before going south again into Penn Station. What took us nine hours to do on Wednesday took us thirteen on Sunday, and that's not counting the train home from New York City.
It could have been worse, though: during the first hour of the ride we were told we'd be going into Grand Central Station instead and taking a shuttle to Penn Station, but that didn't happen.
Plus, there was an observation car on our train. I snooped around before people decided the terrain was scenic enough to warrant the stroll to the front:
The side windows were clean, but the front and back ones were filthy:
So that's what a diesel train engine looks like through a pair of grungy windows:
This is one of the zillion grade crossings our train made. What you see here probably counts as a traffic jam that far north:
U.S. Customs is a happenin' place:
On the move again, finally. I didn't even see the moon until I uploaded this picture to a big screen. Or maybe it's just dust. Whatever. It looks like a moon:
In the afternoon Jack and I wandered up to the dome car again. Sitting near the front was a group of trainspotters, from whom we learned more about rail travel than we ever knew was possible. I mean, these guys know every inch of track, every route, every schedule, and even remember fares they paid forty years ago.
Anyway, they told us that this dome car is the only surviving one in Amtrak's fleet. Sent to the east coast every fall for the run on this Adirondack line, it travels north on Thursdays, south on Fridays, north on Saturdays, and south again on Sundays during peak leaf-changing season in October.
A woman moved closer to us to join the conversation. She told us she's visiting every state capital in the U.S. by train or bus.
While the trainspotters all had digital SLR's, I had my cell phone to capture Lake Champlain:
The train stopped here. The stop wasn't called Moriah but signs hanging from streetlamps read, "Moriah."
We stopped in Schenectady. The trainspotters were thrilled because this is one of only three places in the country where locomotives were made. Me, I just leaped at the opportunity to write, "Schenectady."
Schenectady:
In Albany we switched engines (from diesel to diesel-electric, the trainspotters said, because you can't have diesel fumes in the New York City tunnels). And the dome car went away. In the fading light, this was my last picture:
The conductors gave us an hour to mill about on the platform or wander around inside the station. It was almost time for dinner, and given the meager "food" Amtrak was selling, I, like almost everyone else on the train, made for the one sandwich shop in the station. On my way I passed a distraught passenger talking to a station agent. All I heard was, "Didn't you hear the boarding announcement?" "No. I was in the bathroom." She'd missed the northbound Montreal train. There's only one per day. I thought to myself, "Don't ever let that happen to you."
I was in line when I heard a boarding announcement for our train, the first of several, I figured, since we still had half of our hour to go. There were others from our train behind and in front of me.
When I got back to the train five minutes later Jack was standing on the platform looking concerned. "Didn't you get my text message? They're boarding." It had only been thirty minutes, not the hour we'd been promised. I was almost that woman in the station. We'd found our seats and settled in well before the train moved off again. I asked Jack what he would have done if I'd missed the train. "Thrown our bags off and spent the night in Albany," he said. Then the train stopped for about ten minutes and reversed back into the station to hook up with the Toronto train. Had I missed the train the first time I'd have had a second chance after all. We left Albany at 7:05, exactly the time the conductors said we would.
Somewhere near Yonkers the conductor said we could see Shea Stadium (now being torn down) from the left side of the train. I just saw blackness and lights.
We pulled into Penn Station with just enough time to find the boarding Trenton train. By the time I started the car in the Trenton parking lot it was 12:30 a.m.
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