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Day 16 – High desert, wild donkeys (and a grizzly bear)

Third day on the train. 5:30 am somewhere out in the Nevada desert.

I had promised myself I’d try to get up in time to see the sunrise. An uncomfortable seat and an expansive neighbour help me make sure I live up to that promise. The light of the new day pouring over our train and the landscape around us more than make up for the broken back and the lack of sleep.

Living the moment

The Nevada high desert is incredibly beautiful, and the marshes full of birds in the early morning light are an unexpected surprise that offer the opportunity for some amazing views as the newly risen sun stretches its rays over the surface.

Before we start climbing towards Reno and the Sierra Nevada, the desert presents us with yet another final surreal twist as the water dries out and all that all seems to be left on the ground is white salt (or so I am told…).

The hills are apparently populated by wild horses and donkeys. Someone points them out in the distance but I can’t seem to distinguish them (although as it turns out, I did catch a few horses on the ridge in one of my pictures 🙂 ).

As we enter the Sierra Nevada we keep climbing and climbing, and the landscape turns white once again, although this time it’s all snow slowly melting into hundreds of small streams and creeks running down the side of the mountain feeding tumultous rapids and the flowers timidly blooming around us.

Thanks to the vigilant eye of the two Amish guys sitting next to me, this time I do manage to catch a glimpse of the grizzly bear climbing up on the side of the mountain right below us, although this time the eye is quicker than the eye (so you’ll have to take my word for it).

Descending towards Sacramento it quickly becomes clear that the curtain is finally coming down on the marvellous show we have just witnessed.

The remaining few hours are a boring succession of low brown buildings and grazing cows across the plains of mid-California. I wonder if I might have been more excited about this landscape if I was just starting my trip in the direction of Chicago, still fresh and well-rested.

My knees hurt from spending most of the time of this trip sitting down, and I am now desperately longing for some hot water after almost 3 days without a shower (luckily, some deodorant and a change of clothes made the situation a lot less critical than it could have been otherwise).

As the train circles around the East Bay towards the final station, I realize that for most of my awake time on this trip I have done nothing but look out of the window. It has been some of the best spent time in a very long time.

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Day 15 – Over the hills and far away

May 15th: this incredible trip across America is now half-way through as I leave the East Coast and the Midwest behind and I start preparing for the Pacific North-West.

The second day on the California Zephyr presents us with the first “wow” experience of this long train trek as we join the Colorado river over mountains and canyons, often so close to the water it almost feels like we are floating on it.

After leaving Denver in the morning we climb slowly up the Rockies. The observation deck on the train is packed and the only complaint is how the sun creates glare on the windows and makes it difficult to get the best shot, but that is definitely a good problem to have.

The scenery slowly changes as the river grows, turns, falls, flexes its muscles, spits and roars, slapping hard the rocks that dare standing in its way.
Small temerarious boats tag along for a short ride, while the mountain forests give way to gorges and canyons with walls tall as a building, painted in a kaleidoscope of colours. Above all, the red rocks that melt every time it rains and give the river “Colorado” its name.

We reach Utah by late afternoon, and as we bid goodbye to the river the landscape abruptly changes, it turns dry and rough and yet it remains breathtaking. The weather changes too, and big dark clouds behind the mountains help making the end of this day even more dramatic.

Throughout this amazing day, as the scenery gets wilder and more extreme I can’t help but think of the men that built these tracks pretty much by hand over 100 years ago, what did their lives up here must have looked like. Old black and white pictures come to mind, small white tents pitched on the side of the mountain or in the middle of the desert, backbreaking work 12 hours a day in the harshest conditions, not exactly much time or energy left to enjoy the landscape.

The sun slowly fades over the horizon and night falls as we reach Salt Lake City. Time to try and catch a few hours of sleep before the last stretch to California.

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Chasing the sun in middle America

There is no wifi on this train (other than the open networks I have to hunt for during the brief stops at the stations along the way), so all I can do is read a book, look out the window, write.

Over the Mississippi, crossing from Illinois to Iowa and the landscape remains monotonous, almost like a videotape playing on loop. Field after field, dotted with the occasional red house or white silo, all looking the same for miles and miles. Yet it is mesmerizing in its empty repetitiveness, like a desert this rural landscape lifts up my thoughts like a plastic bag in the wind and brings them far.

I look at the little dot moving slowly on the map on my phone. Chicago is another planet, yet just a few hours away behind us. Small towns, little white wooden churches, a small station that only has a train or two a day to wave goodbye to. A quiet Sunday afternoon: people sitting on the porch, families enjoying a barbeque and a few cold beers.

At first I wonder how can people live here. Then I realize that one’s ”middle of nowhere” is someone else’s ”center of the world”. In the end, it’s always all just about finding your own place: some people are born there, others can never stop looking.

In the meantime, the sun sets over the plains as Iowa turns into Nebraska. The last dying light glows on the horizon, as we slowly keep chasing after it.