Next Full Moon

Sunday, May 3rd Full Flower Moon

26 July 2012

old news


 Announcement to follow.

I chose the train over driving because the total cost was lower and the mode more efficient (less pollution,  less effort/concentration/fatigue). Airlines will rape you on bike transport fees. The Amtrak folks wanted $5. If you box your own, great. If you use their box, it's $15 for the box but it is much easier, as all you need to do is remove pedals and bars. Although, 29" knobblies made for more bike than they anticipated, so it requires front wheel removal as well which isn't optimal. Everything is a compromise.



 Successful train journey to Grand junction? Certainly. The leg room was all for which I could ask, and the seat bottoms swung up, LazyBoy style. They handed out questionably hygienic pillows. I didn't have to focus or keep it together at all, which is the opposite of driving a car.





There is an observation car. In Reno, from the observation car, you can see weirdos (in this case, some Amishy guys) taking smoke breaks. Other places the view is more scenic. Not least because the train panoramas aren't intercepted with billboards and gas satans and other cars.

You can take pretty much whatever you want onto the train and no one bats an eye. The guy in front of me had a coolerful. Sipping Old Grandad in the privacy of your own seat(s) whilst not driving is to be savored.



The train was dope until it was sleepy time, and then it was kinda sucky. I was one of the lucky ones who had both of their seats to themselfs- and don't think I didn't act stinky and unappetizing (relax- it's all an act...) in order to facilitate this good fortune- but there is only so much comfort one can achieve in a confined space.

It was a good beginning.

2 comments:

irishpunk59 said...

hey man be nice we loves our freak here in Reno

reverend dick said...

For what it's worth: on the return leg, a Reno drug interdiction officer picked me (alone, out of the entire car) to be his questionee about bringing drugs into Reno.

What can I say? I look like a dirt bag.