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 join eight others in his care as he leads us out onto the platform. There are two locomotives on this train, our sleeper car (known as a Viewliner), a café car with business-class seating, and two coaches. We leave right on time at 12:50 p.m.

    David, the attendant shows us our “roomette” (one of 12, plus two bedrooms in this car) and does a brief orientation on the amenities of our 3.5 by 6.5-foot domain for the next 22 hours. There’s a tiny shared shower down the hall but Roxie and I are fine with waiting until we get to the hotel outside Chicago tomorrow.

David points out the fold-down sink, just above the fold up toilet. Modesty, it seems, is an unavailable upgrade.

    Later, when we send David a signal with the call button, he’ll pull down the top bunk, fold the seats down into a bed, and we’ll be in for the night.

Roxie and Earl by David.

    The legroom is adequate and we eat our “free” lunch of  cafe car microwaved sandwiches on the foldout table. We chat for a time with Jamie and James, a nice young couple from Providence across the narrow hall. He’s celebrating his 10^th anniversary working for Amtrak so they get a free cross-country trip and are heading to Seattle.

    The run from Boston to Springfield reminds me of the landscape of my youth growing up in Central Connecticut. Thick bands of vegetation and vines edge close to the tracks with an endless stream of abandoned factory buildings, storage places, and junk yards barely obscured behind. Even in places without development there is trash everywhere. How so many pieces of vinyl siding and aluminum soffit vent end up miles from any house is beyond me.

    Like on the Downeaster Line from Portland to Beantown, I’m impressed with the amount of junk people have thrown down over the track embankment behind their homes or businesses. I call it the “put ‘er out back” syndrome. Got an old washing machine? Put ‘er out back. No place to get rid of the rotten siding you took off the garage? Put ‘er out back. Dump closed before you got there on Saturday? Put ’er out back!

    But while it may be hidden from their view, it’s in plain sight of hundreds of people passing by on Amtrak and commuter rail every day. So much for covert disposal.

Mainers, of course, do this too. Just check out that house at the north end of the airport runway in Trenton. He’s got a big pile behind the garage. Out of sight, out of mind, because you can’t see it from the house -- but four million tourists driving by this summer can.

    Farther west, as we enter the Berkshires it becomes the landscape of my early adulthood working as a Boy Scout volunteer and exploring the backwoods of New England with family and friends along the Appalachian Trail (AT) in NY, CT and MA. Rolling country, more open woods, no graffiti. The leaves are beginning to turn here. It may not be Autumn yet in Boston but here it’s knocking on the door.

    We pass where the AT crosses the line just East of Pittsfield, Ma. Literally my current path just crossed my footsteps from 40 years ago. I can only wonder if we stopped and listened carefully would their echo still remain.

    Around 6 p.m. we get into Albany where David advises us a section of additional sleeper and coach cars from New York City, along with a dining lounge, will be added for the big run cross New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana and into Illinois. A resident of Chicago, he warns us that we shouldn’t try to get to the dining car when it opens right after departure. “Give it some time for the New Yorkers to clear out,” he warns. “The always run right down there.”

The new engine ready to couple up in Albany.

    The one-hour process allows us to walk around outside for a while, check out the fabulous new station and enjoy the sunset.

    It’s nearly dark as we leave Albany and the view will soon be only ephemeral streaks and distant spots of light until the grayness before dawn. Nothing left to do now but hit the attendant light and get ready to be rocked by the gentle motion of the swaying train.

    As much as we’d like, there’s no chance even the most powerful locomotive can outrun the advancing darkness as we course due west. But there’s comfort in knowing the waning Harvest moon rising in the East has our back; riding celestial shotgun on this first railway leg of our excellent adventure.