Goodbye California; Hello Nevada, Utah, and Colorado!

In Sacramento, the difference in attitude was immediate. Staff were welcoming, proud of their work, and treated passengers like guests—completely opposite of the cold, indifferent atmosphere I had experienced in Portland. It was like stepping into a different company—Sacramento employees greeted passengers with smiles and courtesy, a stark contrast to the detached, almost resentful tone back in Portland.

One employee really stood out—Ghidai. She was focused, yet friendly and professional. An excellent ambassador for both Amtrak and Sacramento, she handled everything from transporting passengers and custodial duties to customer service. Whether she was offering information or easing guests' concerns, Ghidai did it all with a smile. What struck me as truly exceptional was how she anticipated the needs of guests and offered help before anyone even had to ask. Despite the cold, rainy, and windy weather, she made Sacramento feel warm and full of positive energy.

For segment four of my trip, we would head east from Sacramento, California, with stops in Nevada and Utah, ending at my destination in Grand Junction, Colorado. About an hour before departure, everyone waiting for train number 6 was taken to the platform. I met Shane, the son of a veteran in his mid thirties, while we were outside waiting for the train to arrive. He was travelling to Omaha to visit friends for a few days. He spoke coherently, but later as we were headed east that would not be the case. Interestingly, his ticket showed the incorrect arrival date, a day earlier than was possible.

I was assigned seat seven when I boarded the train. As I approached my seat, a young man came storming through the door from another car and started yelling at me. "You can't sit there, that is my seat," he exclaimed with a loud, angry and aggressive tone. He continued to yell, "I boarded this train two hours ago, and I am not about to move." I honestly could not understand his hostility towards me. I quickly put my baggage near the front seats, and apologized to the ladies who were assigned to those seats, but I wasn't about to struggle with my luggage while trying to figure out what went wrong with my seat assignment. I made my way downstairs, and let the train attendant know someone was already assigned to that seat. Together, we headed back upstairs.

The young man immediately started yelling at the train attendant, but she shut him down quickly. Often during trips, seats are reassigned to accommodate newly boarding passengers and changing crew. This was one of those occasions, but the young man was trying to resist. With one sentence from the attendant, "we're not playing this game," the conversation was over. In the end, I sat in seat seven, next to Daniel, a pleasant young man that was moving to the Colorado Springs area.

We bonded quickly, and even after other seats opened up and we each had two seats to ourselves, we continued to watch out for each other and communicate throughout the trip. Daniel barely knew who Elton John was, but I took a little creative license when the song ‘Daniel’ popped into my head like this: ‘Daniel is travelin’ tonight on a train.’ He had been living with his Mom, and left the day after Mother's Day. She is probably singing, 'Lord, I miss Daniel, Oh, I miss him so much."

I spent a fair amount of time in the observation car, and that is where I met Laurie and Larry—known as L&L by friends. They are fortunate that their three adult children and several grandchildren live close to them. They were travelling to Denver where they would pick up a rental motor home or caravan, and make their way to Mount Rushmore. They intended to fly home instead of making the return journey by train. I really appreciated Laurie sharing some of their previous trips with me. In my opinion, what made their trips special was the ability to share them with each other. In the coach car, L&L were seated in the row behind mine, so we had other moments throughout the trip.

The next fresh air stop would be in the middle of the night at Salt Lake City, so I decided I would try to sleep for a few hours. I awoke around the time of the scheduled stop, but it appeared we were not moving, sitting perfectly still just coming out of a tunnel. During the night, there are no train announcements, so I was having trouble understanding what was going on. I walked around a bit, and when I came back, Shane, who was sitting diagonally across from me, was really disoriented. Apparently, while I was gone, he had a nightmare and fell out of his seat onto the floor. He was scared and thought we were in danger, he was not coherent at all. I stayed calm and reassured him, but for the remainder of the trip, it was obvious he was having some type of mental episode.

Shane did not understand we were still on a train at first. He felt the engineer had taken him back home, and we were all in his house. Convinced and annoyed that the engineer dropped our cars in the dark, he was determined to save all of us. He tried to open the high voltage AC cabinet, insisting it was the way to go upstairs—there was no upstairs beyond where we were. Worried for his safety, I let the conductor know, and within moments, Shane spoke to the conductor relaying the same delusions.

After nearly three hours, we finally started to move and a short time later, we pulled into Salt Lake City. Mentally exhausted from our long wait, I did not feel like getting off the train for a fresh air break. I didn't want to take the chance of zoning out and missing the call to re-board. It turns out we were delayed because there was an officer involved shooting on the tracks—an 18 year old has life threatening injuries after being shot. It was a pretty quick stop, and we were finally chugging down the track. Choo-Choo! Shane wanted me to text him the map I had with all the stops, in case the engineer got lost, he could tell the engineer where he needed to stop. Shane was upset that the engineer left people stranded in the desert and insisted the engineer needed to stop and take a break. According to Shane, there were hundreds of men with guns aimed at the train. Shane always looked to me to either confirm or deny the reality of his thoughts. He seemed to consider my explanation whenever he was confused, however, he continued to believe his own intrusive thoughts. Shane looked at me like I was crazy when he said something looking in my direction, and I responded. He replied, "I'm not talking to you, silly. I'm talking to Tracy!"—as he gestured to the empty seat next to him.

The scenery was as beautiful and diverse as the people I met. There were mountains that looked soft and fuzzy, yet were made of stone. My eyesight is not the best, and I often see things or make comparisons to ordinary objects. To me they looked like how a comfy blanket would look with soft folds draped over a chair or on a bed. The train plowed through snowfall that looked like a blizzard, yet it was the middle of May.

We crossed the desert, but not your typical idea of a desert—no rolling sand dunes—just endless sagebrush valleys and craggy mountain ranges that seem to rise out of nowhere. Hues of red orange sandstone hundreds of millions of years old really added the awe to the awesome scenery. As we rolled into Grand Junction, the Colorado National Monument was waiting to welcome back to Colorado.

When I arrived at the station, I had to recheck my luggage to Lincoln, Nebraska. The station attendant could not understand why it could not have been done in Portland. I was excited to see my youngest brother, and it took me a moment to recognize my niece! The last time I had seen them, my niece had just turned five—now she was seventeen! The first night we drove up on the Monument to see the sunset. It was so windy and cold for me. For the next two days, I would enjoy my brother's company and even explore his town by walking a few miles this way and that way—alone!

To be continued when I leave Colorado for a stop in Lincoln, Nebraska.

Philippians 1:3–4

“I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy.”