Our next stop on the Empire Builder was the Bavarian Alps. Well, not really. But it’s hard not to feel this way about Leavenworth considering its relatively modest population nestled in the midst of a Cascade mountain valley. The architecture and welcoming demeanor of the town’s merchants further enhances a visitor’s Bavarian experience there.

Plans for the first evening included a few nibbles along with a pint of ale from Icicle Brewing Co. This unique watering hole’s history is anchored in the late 1800s when Oliver Brulotte and clan became involved in the hops business close to the nearby Icicle River. Oliver’s mother and grandmother were two of the first female hop driers in the industry. More than a century later, Oliver’s happy hoppy descendants, with help from a brew master friend, opened Icicle Brewing, located near other visitor attractions on Front Street. Bring your own stein or not. It’s a place to savor a variety of Leavenworth’s special flavors amongst the locals.

Next were plans to see “The Sound of Music” at Leavenworth’s outdoor summer theater. As we arrived in the parking lot, a no-longer-functional Nordic ski jump was visible up a nearby mountain slope. The Leavenworth Winter Sports Club (LWSC) built its first jump in 1932. Although the one near the lot was in disrepair and unusable, a larger ramp like it was used when setting North American ski jump distance records up to 345 feet between 1941 and 1970. Leavenworth is now home to small and medium-sized jumps of 15 and 27-meters, used by the LWSC to teach beginners Olympic-style ski jumping. Medicare vetoed my application to become a student.

We settled into seats at the outdoor amphitheater shortly before the hills came alive with the sound of music. My first exposure to the story was in 1965 when Julie Andrews starred in the movie. I was in love with Maria. I had a date back then with a very nice older gal who had a car and could drive us there (I only had a bicycle). Mother even paid for the popcorn. Now, in Leavenworth, under a full moon, with such talent, perfect weather and alongside longtime friends living in the area, Rita and I had to pinch ourselves.

The next day brought a drive to the Walla Walla region of Washington, home to numerous well-known wineries with opportunities to sample the goods and arrange for shipping favorites home or leave behind in gratitude for wonderful hospitality. We returned to Leavenworth soon after to repack for the Amtrak trek home, expected to be no less interesting than travel in the other direction.

After a late evening departure, we awoke the following morning and made our way to the dining car for breakfast. Seated across from an Amish couple, discussion about the early sunrise and shortness of the night ensued. “That’s alright,” said the husband. “We’re accustomed to getting up early. We live on a farm in northern Indiana with cattle and chickens.”

“How many chickens?” I asked.

“Twenty-two thousand,” he said as if reporting how many cars cross the Brooklyn Bridge every hour. “Our eggs are organic, so we only gather about 21,000 each day.” It was a blatant excuse for the paltry number. “If you buy organic eggs in North Dakota, chances are they come from our farm,” he added.

Lewis and Clark’s journey west across what later became Montana took 109 days. Looking out the window as we rumbled east alongside US Highway 2, SUVs, VWs and even a John Deere tractor waved as they sped past us. Our version of crossing Montana took 15 hours.

The Amtrak return ended eight and a half hours later than expected. Despite delays, the voyage was full of good times with new and old friends, as well as splendors we had not encountered before. As we hoped, the experience provided interesting retirement memories. Are you ready for your Amtrak adventure?