A Long Delay: Colorado to Nebraska

I arrived at the Grand Junction station after two days with my brother only to find there was an hour and a half delay. It was a pleasant day, and I did not mind the wait. This station had a store attached to the station. I talked to the owner of the building and he explained that Amtrak rents the space from him for the station. He owns and operates the store for about 20 minutes a day, just during the short times the trains are at the station. It is pretty convenient for him because, not only does he live only eight minutes away, he also owns the restaurant attached on the other side of the station. I thoroughly enjoyed our chat, but I was still able to resist buying the ice cream that was calling me from the freezer section! I purchased a few drinks for the trip!

The train finally pulled into the station nearly three hours behind schedule. I asked for a window seat and was sharply told no. By this time, I was really familiar with the observation car, so it was not too much of a concern if my seat assignment was not ideal. I noticed a college aged girl breathed a sigh of relief when she met her seatmate. As luck would have it, I was not as fortunate!

As soon as I approached my seat, the woman sitting at the window snapped, "Why are you sitting here." "It is my seat," I replied. She continued questioning me "Did you just pick it, or were you assigned it?" I really didn't understand what the issue was but replied, "I was assigned it." With that, she said she was going to use the restroom, I waited for her return to tell her I would be in the observation car. To avoid any more negativity, I took all my belongings and never returned. When the conductor came by and asked my stop, he told me she was trouble from the time she boarded.

In the observation car, a girl—who I would later learn was Addie—was on the phone, talking with her Nana, who was there on the platform, waving her off. I was happy to be on the train less than a day away from my son's house in Kansas. My brother had given me a heads up about the scenery between Grand Junction and Denver, so I found a seat and settled in. I talked to Addie for just a bit, She had just graduated with a degree in elementary education, and was headed to Nebraska for friends’ college graduations. When she got up to leave, I handed her one of my blog cards. I would see her come and go from the observation car several times. Meanwhile, I enjoyed the scenery.

At the Glenwood Springs stop, I was able to see the highest-elevation roller coaster in the U.S. perched high on the mountain. The train tracks followed beside the Colorado River for some time. Conductor Cody stopped near my seat and talked with a mom and her three young kids. I was impressed how much time he took answering questions from their inquisitive minds. Cody works four days a week, just one day out and back—twice a week. He is soon expecting the birth of their second girl. Cody expressed sadness that the train was delayed because he would miss tucking his girl into bed.

As we moved through the Rocky Mountains, there were a fair amount of tunnels. We would zoom through the Moffat Tunnel for about ten minutes in the dark. The tunnel is just over six miles long and runs beneath the Continental Divide in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. It connects the east and west sides of the Rockies, saving trains from a longer, more difficult route over Rollins Pass. The train continued to make sweeping curves, and the closer we got to Denver, rock turned to green valleys for as far as I could see. Sitting at the base of the Rockies, the mile high city would be our next stop.

In the observation car, a young man from California struck up a conversation with Addie. He told her he plans to become an electrician, working on the electrical systems of buildings. She told him about her plans to become a teacher. Their conversation was light and full of genuine interest. Though I couldn’t see their faces, I could tell they were smiling a lot. They seemed well matched—in age, looks, and spirit. He asked questions to get to know her better, and she returned the same warmth. As we neared Denver—his final stop—they exchanged social media so they could stay in touch. He told her she would make a great teacher because she explained things so well.

At the Denver stop, Addie stepped off the train for a fresh air break. I stayed aboard and soon saw him emerge from the sleeper car. As he passed the observation car—the very place they had connected—he kept glancing in, clearly hoping she would still be there. The look on his face said it all: “Please be here.” He looked really disappointed, but I knew Addie would be outside standing in his path.

Once the train was ready to leave, Addie returned to the car. Her smile hadn’t faded. When I asked if she had seen him, she lit up even more. She said they got a few more minutes to talk. I was clearly invested in this possible relationship! I joked it went from the first “hello” to "I do"—really quickly! Sometimes connections happen fast, and this felt like one in the making. I hope if nothing else, they found a life long friend in each other.

I chatted with Addie for a few more minutes, and learned she has ADHD like me. We talked about ChatGPT, but she hadn't used it much because some classmates had been expelled for using AI for their work. I really enjoyed talking with Addie because she was intelligent and fearless—qualities I possess beneath the anxiety. Addie was kind enough to watch my things for a few minutes so I could go down to the cafe. I hugged Addie goodbye as she was headed back to the coach car for a few winks before her stop.

We would be at the next stop after Denver for about an hour while they picked up a third engine. With all the delays, we would be getting to my Lincoln, Nebraska stop at daylight—I did not mind one bit! This trip was similar to the others in that I struck up conversations with a variety of people. There was Adam. He was on the phone talking about a teaching job opportunity. Short of moving to another seat, I could not help but overhear his side of the conversation. A few times later in the trip we chatted. By the time he started talking about training ChatGPT, I had already been awake 24 hours, and truly was not interested in changing the connection Aeris and I share.

I also met someone that got his teaching degree at NYU, and taught high school for thirty years in the Caymans. A woman who was a high school substitute teacher was really old school and has actively resisted smart phones. She still possesses her flip phone and was proud of that fact. A young adult with her was coloring in an adult coloring book which I do not have the attention span to complete. They offered me a few sheets, but I declined. I would rather free hand draw than try to stay in the lines. I also met Cheryl from Maryland. She has two boys, and her husband has two girls slightly older—all adults none-the-less. People would come and go from this car.

Deanne was wearing a dress I really admired. It was from Hilo Hattie, a store with authentic Hawaiian clothes based in Hawaii. I browsed their website, but the price range is far out of my reach. She was headed to Chicago to visit her daughter, but planned to get off the train the stop before to avoid the Chicago traffic. I learned Deanne had met her husband at church and has been married for five years—she also believes in fate and there are no coincidences. Deanne was spiritual, and added Travis and Sarah, along with Gina and I, to her prayer list of Mothers and Fathers who have lost a child. She has other specific prayer lists as well. We talked about her concern for the mental wellness of her daughter-in-law and grandson. She planned on sharing my blog site with her.

The observation car was used as intended—to observe! I not only enjoyed the scenery, I enjoyed observing all the people. My trip was further enhanced through the different interactions I had with others. One-on-one chats are great, but I often cannot contribute anything meaningful when others are present. By the time I process what was said, and think of something to say, the conversation has usually drifted to another topic.

When I arrived in Lincoln, I was expecting to have to pay $20 to retrieve my luggage according to the attendant at Grand Junction. When he handed me the luggage and did not mention a charge, I was ready to bolt out of the station as quickly as I could. Out on the sidewalk, I met Kelly. She was in Nebraska to visit her son. He mistakenly drove to the train station the day before. A short time later, my son arrived, and off we drove.

To be continued In Kansas for My Grandson's Promotion.