Rocky Mountain High

Maybe I should have taken a bus.

When I got on this train there were only seven people in the car. Now, as we are all waiting for it to depart the depot, every seat seems to be taken and you cannot even hear yourself think.

So what am I doing in thisw noisebox? I am beginning to ask myself that same question.

After fifty-seven years with the same company I had finally reached that magical old age that everyone works hard to reach. Friday had been my last day. The office had thrown me quite a party. So good that it made me think they were glad to see me go. Anyway, instead of the normal gold watch, they knew I wanted to travel so they gave me an Amtrack Ameripass good for one year of unlimited travel.

I had been longing to get out of this dirty old town since high school so I wasted no time. It is Monday. I am on a westbound train and soon will have escaped the smog, litter lined streets, skyrocketing crime rate and the dull routine of the past fifty-seven years.

For the record, I really did love and enjoy my job for fifty years. But those last seven, worrying if I would make it or not, turned into somewhat of a grind.

That is all behind me now or soon will be whenever this darn train starts to move.

As the noise around me seems to escalate, I sincerely hope many of these obnoxious passangers will exit quickly and my trip will become the quiet peaceful journey I had been hoping for.

Waiting anxiousally, I pulled out the latest Stephen King novel I was reading and tried to read. But this crowded train car almost made me feel like I was in one of his novels and hoping for a way out.

The extra large man in the window seat asked to be excused as he needed to visit the men's room. It was his third such visit since he boarded.

Across the aisle was a young couple and, other than myself, probably the only other quiet passangers. But their reason for was equally annoying as they were making out fiercely. They should have stayed in their hotel room.

Behind me was a lady with three young children. One she held on her lap. The other two were running up and down the aisle totally ignoring her weak pleas for them to sit back down and behave.

Even with what seemed like total chaos, I was able to hear the train whistle blow. And almost immediately followed by a lurch as the train actually began to move.

There was no turning back and crammed as we were I do not think retreat would have been possible.

So as I begin a new chapter in my King novel so too begins a new chapter in my life. The title "welcome to retirement".

Thankfully things did seem to quiet down once the train reached it's traveling speed.

Then it seemed that no sooner did we reach that speed than we began to slow. Guess we were approaching our first stop. Maybe some of these passangers would exit. Nobody moved. Then the door opened and another passanger entered. Unless there was an empty seat ne would be standing. He did find a seat. So instead of a railroad passanger train car it felt more like a can of sardines, minus the oil.

The whistle, a lurch and we were off again. I was not sure how many cars this train had but if they were all crammed like this one, the old town must be pretty empty and on a Monday rather than a Friday.

Everyone seemed pretty settled for almost a whole thirty minutes. Then we approached another whistle stop. I now knew what that meant. This stop lady luck seemed to shine on me s half the car's occupants seemed to exit here. But the big guy at the window was still here and again needing to go. Wherever there was an empty seat when the train began rolling again, I would move.

As all who remained became settled again an announcement was made that the dining car would be serving brunch for the next hour and credit cards were preferred. So at the risk of having to compete with window man for men's room time, I went to the dining car, got a blueberry bagal and a large coffee.

We seemed to really be rolling as lunchtime approached.

Fields, pastures, quaint little towns, over rivers and under highways all seemed to blur.

By dinnertime, only eight people were riding in this car, plus me. It made time and miles pass more quickly. And dinner was excellant, a bit overpriced but still excellant.

About the time the sun would be setting back home, our train began to slow again. Then came an announcement that we were approaching the Mississippi River. I was on full alert as I had not seen the mighty mississip since I was a kid. As we crossed, it was just as awesome as I remembered. And like icing on a cake there was a big wheel riverboat heading South, no doubt New Orleans as a final destination.

After that most beautiful sight, since leaving early that morning, I began to tire. I asked for a pillow and was given one and a blanket, Soon I was asleep in my seat.

The train kept rolling all night long and again it began to slow. As we were switched onto a side track I was awakened from a vivid dream of a Japanese billionaire building a WalMart by a river that flooded frequently. I told his boys it was not a good location but they did not seem to care. They just wanted to play baseball.

Looking out my window it first looked like a backwards sunset but it was sunrise and we had pulled over to allow another train to pass. We were at the base of the Rocky Mountains. Never had I seen anything so majestic. They took my breath away.

When the other train and passed and we began our slow approach to these beasts it dawned on me that I was about to experience my first Rocky Mountain High.