I used to take the train back and forth
when I needed to go places. I rode the train from Chicago out to
Montana one year for a summer job in the national park, but most
often I'd ride the train between Denver and Austin when I was on
break from school. The thing is (the train system in western
USAmerica being unfunded and therefore inefficient as it is), the
route between Denver and Austin went through Chicago. No one would
mistake Chicago as being on the way from Austin to Denver, but it
worked for me, 'cause I got to lay over in Chicago for a couple days
with my folks, who lived there at the time.
Now, I've never ponied up for a sleeper
car, always hoping for an empty seat next to my coach accommodations, so I could
stretch out just a little bit more. But most of the time, especially
as the skies darkened, I found myself in the club car. Often, I'd spend the time reading books I brought along ~ once in a while, I'd end up
talking with whoever else was also on the train and not sleeping.
One year, on the way from Chicago to
Denver, I had set my book down in favor of a conversation with the other people in the club car ~ one or
two other Americans and a couple of Australians. The two Australians were
spending a couple months exploring the US countryside traveling by
rail. They'd been hither and yon, back and forth, and seemed to be
thoroughly enjoying their travels. They told me they'd met some
surprising and interesting people almost everywhere they went. We
talked into the night about theology and philosophy and travel and
culture and who knows what else.
At some point in the evening, someone
looked at their watch and wondered aloud if it was really 12:15 in
the morning ~ which triggered for all of us the realization that as
we rumbled across the middle of Nebraska, the new year had caught up
with us without giving notification.
It didn't take long for our new
Australian friends to open up their cooler and crack open a bottle of
celebratory sparkling wine. We toasted the new year and new
temporary friendships with shared wine drunk from scavenged paper
cups, and promptly fell back into the conversation that had been
interrupted by a page turn on the calendar.
I don't remember if, after we wandered
off to our respective coach seats for a couple uncomfortable hours of
sleep, I ran into them again on the train, or if we parted
ways without noticing. What I do remember is one unique and
interesting new years eve on a train.
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