When the COVID pandemic looked to be easing a bit in 2022, pent-up desire to travel brought plans to visit friends in Leavenworth, Washington. In recognition of my earliest travel on a locomotive with my grandmother at age four, it seemed high time to give the rails another go. Rita agreed to take the trip on Amtrak.

The manager of the Minot depot secured an on-board accommodation for us that included windows on both sides of the train and bunk beds for the scheduled 26-hour tour across four states. Once onboard, Rita retrieved a jar of Lysol wipes from her bag. Before the train rolled out, every compartment surface was sanitized such that she could give birth without worry of infection – if only she were pregnant. We left Minot an hour later than scheduled.

The Empire Builder headed westward out of Minot, past the municipal golf course and over the Gassman Coulee trestle. The original wooden structure took three months to repair after being struck by a tornado in August of 1898, resulting in significant damage. Midway across, I hoped it would hold up a bit longer as we glanced out the window for a unique view of Minot.

Between Berthold and Stanley thirty minutes later, the train ground to a halt. Passengers heard over the PA system that engine problems had stopped a train ahead of us. Suspension of the coach’s back and forth oscillations seemed the perfect time to head toward the observation car. On the way, I arrived at the engine before realizing a need to reverse directions. Besides, the engineer evidently saw me coming and locked the door.

Slipping through the dark, narrow passage toward a distant light (similar to the day I was born), I moved through passenger cars before entering the observation car beyond. Staggered levels of seating on either side enabled travelers to watch wheat and durum fields slip by once the train was underway again. Fortunately, Rita had joined me before the side-to-side coach undulations resumed. We settled into seats just as a fellow stood to educate those who would listen about the 22 months he spent in the military during the Vietnam conflict, then shifted subjects to WWII (which he did not attend). Following defeat of the Axis of Evil, he focused on informing audience members of his heroic delivery of a truckload of Budweiser to Gillette, Wyoming, on a semi rig as we passed through Tioga. Hoping we boarded the right train, I checked the napkin under my water glass to be sure it read “Amtrak” and not “Ringling Brothers.”

Having missed breakfast due to the late Minot departure, we did not want to miss lunch. A plan was hatched to position ourselves near the dining car door so when a “The dining car is open” announcement came, seats could be secured before all were taken. We clawed our way through a Taylor Swift concert-sized crowd of commuters with similar strategy and neared the dining car. When doors opened, the flood of folks poured into the Pullman. There was enough room to lay claim to one side of a booth for four.

Across from us were two teenagers who explained their parents dragged them away from friends and cell phones for their “boring trip” from Chicago to Whitefish, MT. From there a respite was also planned for Glacier and Yellowstone Park visits. Surprisingly, they hadn’t notified Child Protective Services of the diabolical plan. They weren’t the least bit interested in the expedition nor, for that matter, suffering through conversation with elder travelers across the table.

When boarding The Tube (London’s subway train) a recorded message warns “Mind the gap” as passengers climb on. Amtrak might wish to offer its own warning version: “Caution: Teenagers without phones or friends on board.

…to be continued