On the way to Salt Lake...
After a lovely stop in Denver (Thank you again Rosie and Doc and family for having me and to the owner of St. Mark's coffe shop for letting me pretty much camp out there), I am now on the train to Salt Lake City. This train ride began around 8:30am and will continue til about 11pm, but a) I am not driving b) I am not flying and c) I am not on the bus. The train really is the best way to do this kind of long run as one can spread out, sleep if you need to, eat (thank you Starbucks in Denver for providing healthy and inexpensive food for the day) and one can also camp out in the Lounge car. The lounge car of the California Zephyr is really an ideal spot to watch the passing scenery, particularly that of the vast west we east coasters forget exists unless watching a movie until just seeing it for ourselves. Seeing the natural beauty of the Rockies and the carved canyons of red rock that jut and flow down to the Colorado river's edge is truly awe inspiring. It is a reminder that a) we still have these natural wonders in our midst and b) we need to make sure they remain. There is a song by India Arie called "Now I know that God is real" talking about seeing various beautiful things in nature I am left to think about that song as I pass through these hills. I am also left to think about how every New Yorker needs to see this. Not just Westchester, not just upstate, not just New England. They need to see real wide open spaces (if I may steal the chorus of the eponymous Dixie Chick song). I am talking serious vastness here and barely a road in the midst of it all. Like when driving back to Reno from Burning Man, I was amazed by similar scenery and I had to remind myself to keep my eye on the road, even though I was the only one on it for the majority of the drive. Being in New York as long as I have, I get nervous when a place is too unpopulated. A subway platform and a street is always better to me if there a lot of people there. But I also like space. Supermarkets and apartment buildings and restaurants can be cramped and tight and we get used to doing as much as we can with as little space as possible. But out here, it is reminder that there is space and that every once in awhile, should we come out here, we can open our eyes, our lungs, and our minds to open skies and air. You can feel muscles relax, shoulders loosen after months or years of holding them in so you can all fit on the subway. And one can do this even while on the train, without getting off, just by looking out at the view and rather than sitting at your desk, or in a car dealing with traffic, or looking through a tiny window over somebody in a big metal tube with recirculated air, you can sit in the open room of the lounge car, sit back, talk to your fellow passengers, share the moment and go ahhhhhh, this is nice.
...until you are stuck in the middle of this lovely vast open nowhere, and there is a signal issue. I suddenly was flashed back to moments on the MTA when the train stops and after what feels like just a bit too long, you hear the announcement that there is a faulty signal up ahead and that it is being investigated at this time and "we will be moving shortly, so please be patient". Well, we just had that here. A faulty signal had to be switched by hand...and when that did not work, I am not quite sure what was worked out, (particularly as once the signal thing was dealt with we then had to deal with which train went first - I figure someone won a match of rock, paper scissors) but we are moving again. And then, of course, everybody started talking and complaining about it. Ahhh, a little bit of home.
Peace --Alex
posted by funkweee @ 9:12 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home