Dad, Amtrak, and Americana

For the last few years I have given my Dad Christmas presents of train trips.  We've done Kansas City to Albuquerque and back in a sleeper car, Kansas City to St. Louis and back on the Missouri River Runner, and Kansas City to Chicago and back on the Southwest Chief.

My dad loves trains.  He grew up within sight of railroad tracks, although in East Bank, WV, it was much more common to see coal cars than passenger cars.  As a teenage paperboy, dad won a trip to New York City - by train - and I think that cemented his love for the railroad.  The Christmas present idea was borne a few years ago when I noticed he had subscribed to a train magazine.  

This trip we saw lots of farmland in northern Missouri, southeast Iowa, and northern Illinois.  I am always surprised at the people you meet on a train.  We enjoyed pleasant conversations with people as diverse as an older Amish couple and a pair of twenty-something Cubs fans from Tulsa who were headed to Chicago for opening day.  

Where else, besides an Amtrak train, are you going to learn that Mendoza, IL is "the best little town in America," that Galesburg, IL is the hometown of Carl Sandburg, and that Amtrak is second only to horse and buggy as the transportation mode of choice for anyone Amish.

My dad usually brings a map and likes to spend time in the lounge car, where he finds those oversized windows irresistible.  He loves it.  I love it that he loves it.  He takes it all in - the wind turbines, the lay of the land, the farms, the small towns, the flocks of turkeys.  He enjoys the rocking of the train like some people enjoy the opera or the symphony.

While in Chicago we checked out Navy Pier, walked the Magnificent Mile, and took in the sights, sounds, and tastes (can you say Ghirardelli chocolate) of the city.  And we talked.  Not much (both of us are born listeners), but enough.

In a world filled with buzzing phones, incessant social media, and talking heads, a train ride is an escape to reality.  Observe creation.  Take a nap.  Read a book.  Have a conversation.  Write a blog. Listen to yourself breathe as the ground slips by.

I can't wait to see what Dad gets for Christmas this year.