The Rugged Way to Get to Portland

In the morning, when it was light out, it was clear we were in the remote mountains along the California-Oregon border. Evidently we'd passed Dunsmuir, but we had not yet arrived in Klamath Falls, the next stop on the schedule.

On American trains like the Coast Starlight, when you are in the remote areas of the country, you often see very few signs of civilation. You don't even see the railroad tracks, looking out the window---just the naked panorama out the window. In this case, in the remote western mountain all one could see were trees on rolling mountain tops and much light snow.

Breakfast (which was included in my ticket) found me sitting in the restaurant car across a table from a white woman, about forty, and her young daughter. In the dining car, they put you next to each other like that, and keep as many tables free as possible.  For yours truly, first thing in morning without coffee, it was a challenge to be social in such a setting.

In fact most people on the train were very friendly, much more than I could muster myself to be. Next time I'll be pretty prepared for the intensity, I resolved. Once you climb out of your berth, you have to be up close with lots of people.

Klamath Falls came and went out the window while we ate breakfast. Someone asked about the body of water we were passing.  "Which lake is that?"

"That's Upper Klamath Lake," I offered.

"It's drained by the Klamath River, which goes all the way through the Cascades----the only river south of the Columbia to do that."

When I went back to my roomette, the bed was gone, the attendant having slid the sections apart to create a pair of seats facing each other along the window The morning's newspaper was placed on one of the seats---the local Klamath Falls day. The headline, almost stereotypically, was about the persistence of the local meth problem. My friend Adam in Portland would have gotten a kick of seeing that.

After that the train cut up into the mountains again, into remote areas of trees and snow. An hour later we reached Chemult.

In the meantime I went into the sleeper lounge car, which was supposedly the only part of the train that offered wifi. I was able to connect for a half-hour, and send some emails while looking out the bubble top car, but for most of the day, the web browser requests timed out, even when we came down into the Valley near Eugene, and even in places where I was able to connect with my smartphone. I made a mental note that if I were going to ride Amtrak around the country, I'd arrange to be able to be to tether, and not to rely on their own connection

But overall the ride was a pretty decent experience, if you can accept it for what it is. Among other things, this includes getting used to all the constant rickety motion and being jerked around. The Amtrak staff, especially the sleeping car porter, was cheerful and always helpful. They took their jobs seriously. The dining car staff was very interactive. At times it felt like a rolling comedy act.

Indisputably it was a magnificent way to slide into the southern edge of the Portland metro area, first popping out on the river at Oregon City (the old destination of the Oregon Trail, later a mill town), where you get a great view of the Falls of the Willamette.

Then the train weaves up through Milwaukie into southeast Portland, passing through the neighborhoods of Sellwood, Brooklyn, and the east side industrial area now dubbed Produce Row. From there one gets a splendid view of the bridges and the downtown skyline, frame against the hills.

Finally, after four in the afternoon, not much behind schedule, we crossed the river on the Steel Bridge. My friend Marie once erected a sculpture right next to the base of the bridge there, many years ago. It's good to have history in Portland.