Earl and Roxie's Excellent Adventure

  Roxie on the Rinconada Canyon Trail. Walk This Way      We rolled into Albuquerque yesterday afternoon to spend some time with Roxie’s sister Mary and husband Bryan. They fetched us at the train station and chauffeured us to their wonderful home on the West side of town.      Sprawling from the lofty Sandia Mountains to the east and the Albuquerque Volcanic Field to the West, the city is transected by the Rio Grande River. When we crossed it looked more like Rio Diminuta. There was barely more than a trickle of water, another victim of the catastrophic drought in this part of the country.      Around 600,000 people live here and when you drive on any of the city’s wide boulevards it appears that absolutely none of them ever stays at home. One thing we notice is there are lots of advertising billboards which aren’t allowed in Maine. I looked for one that suggested if we need a lawyer we “Better Call Saul,” from ...

Sandia Mountains overlooking Albuquerque. Something From Nothing        Last night I posted I hoped the train would have traveled far enough that we’d wake up today in the desert but at sunrise we still have several hours to go before we won’t be in Kansas anymore.      Granted, you could still say we were drifting across the High Plains although there’s little chance of seeing a serape-wearing stranger, played by Clint Eastwood, squinting out over the sun-parched landscape, clutching the soggy end of cigar in his teeth.      From Illinois until we started climbing into the mountains on our way to Raton Pass, the plains stretched out forever, punctuated with geographical clones of whistle-stop towns and bright white homesteads surrounded by neat rows of swaying Cottonwood trees, as if that thin green line would be enough to offer anything more than the tiniest measure of protection from winter winds that get a...

  Crossing the Mighty Mississippi Back on Tracks      What a difference a train makes.      The day started out at the Metra commuter rail station in Fox Lake where we bid adieu to Ernie and Kathy. The ride into the Windy City takes about an hour and a half and because it’s mid-morning, the cars aren’t crowded. Straight as an arrow the tracks course due south and we quickly put Northern Illinois and the ghosts of Al Capone in the proverbial rear-view mirror.      It’s good there’s plenty of room because we need the space for our overly heavy suitcases. While they aren’t giant by two months in Europe standards, with all the stuff we figured we’d need for a five-week adventure, they are heavy enough. Fortunately, when we get to Union Station, a couple of kind young guys offer to grab the big ones and schlepp them down the five steps to the platform. We instantly said “yes.” Does that make us old?    ...

          F irst a note of thanks to everyone who reached out to make sure we are okay in light of the news about the crash of Amtrak’s Empire Builder in Montana on Saturday. We mourn all those killed or hurt but we were especially worried for a while that the nice young couple we met on the Lake Shore Limited , and who were continuing on to Seattle, might have been on board. But we did the math and they would have been on Friday’s train. We are scheduled to take that train but not until later in October. Every method of public transportation involves an element of risk. Trains, statistically, remain one of the safest. Still, it really makes you think.      T he morning started with mundane chores, catching up on laundry and running errands. But the afternoon was for fun. Our hosts here in Illinois, Ernie and Kathy, subscribe to the essential three “B’s” of “la dolce vita” in these parts—beer, brats and boats. Ernie and Kathy aboard Cooler ...

  Main Street in Antioch, IL.      Antioch, IL -- If you are looking for the quintessential American Main Street you don’t have to look any further than Antioch, IL, where we are staying while visiting Roxie’s cousin and his wife. It’s got the tree-line thorofare complete with park benches, wide sidewalks and a historic monument or two for good measure.       What’s most impressive is that there are actually thriving, year-round, small businesses in every building. Along with the usual pubs, small restaurants and bakeries, there is a tattoo shop, dog groomer, stock broker, tile broker, movie theater, hobby shop, coin dealer, a folk music hangout with tables with chess boards out front even when they aren’t open, some antique places and a consignment store. An old granite bank building is now a Mexican place, and the former Masonic Hall contains unique shops and a florist. I counted more than 50 shops in just a one-block area. The place is thriving...

       The Chicago Skyline from the Shedd Aquarium. Say the word “shedder” in Maine and folks instantly think of soft shell lobsters. Say it in Chicago and it means something else entirely.      Roxie’s cousin Ernie Sawyer and his wife Kathy recently retired after well more than 30 years each as aquarists and museum specialists at the venerable Shedd Aquarium on the Chicago waterfront overlooking Lake Michigan. Today we had the distinct pleasure to have them as our personal tour guides when we visited the institution to see its many wonderful and informative displays and exhibits.The stunning panorama of the Chicago skyline from there was an extra bonus.      Located just a stone’s throw from Soldier Field, the home of “Da Bears,” the Shedd was founded by retailer John G. Shedd (a protégé of Marshall Field) in the 1930s and has expanded and grown in the decades since. Both Ernie and Kathy devoted themselves to educ...

Boston to Chicago Done      We all know what the “Big Lie,” is. In the Parthenon of fibs, falsehoods and outright fabrications it is doubtful it, or its author, will ever be topped.      But I have a great candidate for first runner up.      It’s the notion that when traveling by train the gentle rocking motion of the car clickity clacking down the tracks (Cue Arlo Guthrie’s song, the “City of New Orleans”) will be a wonderful way to fall asleep.      On Amtrak’s Lake Shore Limited on Wednesday night, it’s rocking all right, more like rockin’ and rollin’ at a concert with Megadeath, AC-DC, and Disturbed turned up to Level 11.      The far-from-perfect condition of the tracks is such that the train cars jump, bang, make crashing sounds, and sway wildly to and fro for most of the night, especially on a legendary 67-mile straight-as-an-arrow section west of Toledo.      L...

  It’s the first day of fall in Boston, but summer is not ready to surrender. Untouched by chill, Rugosas in the median still bloom with pride.         The temp is 78 and it’s muggy which insures the distinctive co-mingled effluvia of diesel exhaust, ripening dumpsters and overly-done breakfast burritos remains inescapable on our way to South Station. Jay our Red Cap, loads up the baggage.      Unlike yesterday, we did not see anyone gesturing wildly at the sky and talking to God.      At the station our friendly “Red Cap,” Jay sets our overly heavy bags on an overloaded cart and shows us the way to the Metropolitan Lounge upstairs, a posh setup for those traveling by sleeper or in First Class. Free newspapers, beverages and no crowds make it a relaxing oasis in which to await departure. The Metropolitan Lounge at South Station       About a half an hour before the train leaves Jay fetches us and we jo...

 Welcome to the travel journal of Earl and Roxie Brechlin as they embark on a grand, excellent adventure around the USA aboard Amtrak's storied passenger trains! Stay tuned for photos, maps and details on all the people places and adventures they encounter.  BOSTON, MA  September 21, 2021 Day One is done      The day started in Bar Harbor at zero dark thirty (5 a.m.) but we were awake for an hour before the alarm went off. Quite the flurry of last minute packing and making sure the house was pristine for house/cat sitter Gaelen. The Reed Transit shuttle, both pilot Dana and co-pilot Ponzie, arrived right on time at 8:30 and we headed for the Concord Bus Station in Bangor. COVID has brought many changes to the transportation industry and I have to say I've never seen a cleaner bus station or bus. The ride to South Station in Boston through that gauntlet of unbridled and unrepentant chain store commercialism that is Route 1 through the Saugus area, w...