Portland: Not the Friendly Place I Had Imagined

We pulled into Portland and within minutes things were going to get complicated. Prior to leaving on my trip, I called Amtrak to make sure I could check my one piece of luggage to the different destinations where I would be travelling. We discussed each city where I would need my luggage and I was assured there would be no problem. When I arrived at the first station, I again asked about my luggage and was told I could check it to Portland and then to Lincoln, NE. This turned out not to be true.

At Portland baggage claim, Chris was extremely rude, not even listening to what I needed. When he finally did stop talking, he insisted I could not check my suitcase to Lincoln, Nebraska, even though Amtrak states it can be checked to your final destination. I then asked about my return trip, and a woman behind the counter looked up Rome, NY and informed me I could not check my baggage to there. I could not believe Amtrak put me into this position. It was going to cost me additional money to recheck my bag once I swapped around the contents between my suitcases. Looking ahead, I was going to have more trouble once I was headed to New York.

That was just the beginning of my problem in Portland. I went to the ticket counter and received my seat ticket as instructed. She told me at 10:00 go to Gate 5, to board the train to Sacramento. Around 9:50 AM, I walked over to Gate 5 to wait. A woman in a white Amtrak shirt asked me where I was going and when I told her Sacramento, she told me to wait in the lobby. I complied. As I was walking up the ramp to the lobby, the lady from baggage spoke to the woman in the white shirt and said, "She is ____" but I didn't hear the last word.s The white shirt employee said, "I could tell immediately" and the baggage lady replied, "that's why I stopped" They both had a good laugh at my expense. I stood in the lobby, near the gate, waiting for a signal to start boarding.

Despite this issue, I made some nice connections on the way to Sacramento! I had a cooler, a suitcase, and a carry on bag. The stairs on the train are really narrow, and I was slated for an upstairs seat. There is also limited space for luggage at the bottom of the stairs, and I was undecided where I should stow the 22" piece. A nice gentleman wanted to help, and I needed help, but I was indecisive and I may have given off the wrong message through facial expressions to the man with the Spanish accent that said, "I don't speak English." I struggled up the steps, and he helped by lifting and pushing my luggage up the stairs. Not only are the narrow, the stairs are steep and winding!

During the trip, it was bothering me so I wrote, "Gracias por ayudarme con mi bolsa. No estaba segura de lo que quería hacer con ellas, pero de verdad agradezco mucho tu ayuda." (Thank you for helping me with my bag. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with them, but I truly appreciate your help.) and let him read it. He nodded with praying hands and a smile. It was a warm moment. Sometime later, he wrote a message in English. "Apologies if I did anything wrong. I was only trying to be a gentleman." This type of kindness is everywhere, you just have to be open to accept it.

I sat in the seat that was assigned to me, and a short time later a woman flopped down in the aisle seat beside me, but she was not happy. She immediately tried to move to another seat, but the train attendant told her she had to return to her assigned seat or go to the observation car. This is when the attendant pointed out that a dog had vomited on the floor just opposite our seats. I fully expected it would be cleaned up before we left or en route, so I didn't say anything. We were in the very last car, and the woman, without saying a word, moved her bags to the space near the door and headed to the observation car. A while later she came back to get all of her bags. I mustered up all the courage I could and asked if I had done something wrong. Suddenly she smiled and said not at all. She just wanted more room for both of us! She told me her name was Deb and she found another open seat. Later in the night, I would find her back in our set of seats sleeping, but I didn't plan to stay.

I had briefly met Jay on the previous train, but I didn't ask his name. He asked me a question about where he should get off the train. A short time later, I offered him a bottle of water and that was the extent of our contact, until this train. I noticed he was sitting in the seat in front of me, but then he disappeared. I went outside during a fresh air break and initiated contact again. He asked me if I wanted to go to the observation car and hang out since it was already quiet time. I gladly followed him through the next car and we found a nice place to sit. Jay was 37 years old and headed to Sacramento to board a bus to Stockton. He was expected to turn himself in for a 16 month stint in prison. He told me the circumstances, and I really felt bad that he was doing this alone without any support. He made some poor choices, and I am not sure prison will help him get his life on a good track. As we were chatting, a girl name Christine joined us. Christine was 27 and showed a lot of ambition through the stories she told. Currently she works for a PE and Music program. She also speaks Chinese, and we opened Duolingo for her to give it a go. She tried to teach me how to say, "Hey everybody," but I am really bad at mimicking sounds.

Around midnight, we decided it was time to sleep. I went back to my seat and grabbed my blanket. Jay and I found some vacant seats in another car. After setting some boundaries, we said goodnight and drifted off to sleep. The train attendant, Juan, did not like that we were in those seats. Instead of rewriting everything that transpired, I will just paste the actual letter I sent to Amtrak concerning the vomit.

To Whom It May Concern,

I was on Train 11, which departed Portland at 2:22 PM on May 11, 2025, headed to Sacramento. I was seated in Coach, seats 5/6. Across from me, seats 7/8 were marked out of service due to a dog vomiting there. The vomit remained on the floor in plain view for the entire trip, despite staff clearly being aware of it.

There is absolutely no reason this should have been left on the floor or, at the very least, not covered to reduce discomfort to nearby passengers.

Passengers were told repeatedly to stay in their assigned seats because the train was full. That meant I had to either sit directly across from an unsanitary scene or leave my seat and go to the observation car. As someone with severe anxiety disorder, this created unnecessary stress and made the trip especially uncomfortable.

I expect better hygiene standards and a more responsible response to situations involving health and safety concerns.. It should have been addressed promptly. After many hours of having to look at the vomit during this trip, I found the courage to go to the observation car with the passenger sitting in front of me. Around midnight, instead of sleeping at our seats because the vomit was still there, we found two empty seats in another car.

When morning came, Juan, the train attendant, admonished me for changing seats. I decided I could not be intimidated any further and told Juan that we were sleeping there because of the vomit. I also told him that he should have cleaned it up, as it was unsanitary and disgusting. He firmly stated that he was not cleaning it up and that we needed to return to our seats. I told Juan I was not discussing it with him any further, but that this was not the end of the matter I would be reporting it. I also let Juan know that three other passengers had complained to me about him, independently and without me mentioning I had a problem.

About ten minutes later, Juan returned with a different attitude and said we could stay in those seats, but not to forget our luggage when we departed. When we left the train, I spoke to Juan again. Instead of a real apology, he continued making excuses.

There was absolutely no excuse for the vomit not being cleaned up immediately. It also turns out the train was not full, as he had claimed. He was simply reserving seats just in case. From Portland to Sacramento has been the worst part of the trip so far.

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The Amtrak employees at the station and on the train did not represent Portland very well. If I hadn't already had 90 positive hours of riding the train, this could have really swayed my decision whether or not I would ride again! I am not going to let this one segment define my trip or ruin the great experiences that are likely to follow. I could be bitter, and continue to expect problems, but everyday is a new day!

To Be Continued: Headed East from Sacramento to Grand Junction