The trip to Astoria started at 5:30 Wednesday morning to the train station for an 8:05
train. All went well despite a construction project at the train station that had the
ticket desk and waiting room moved a block away and across the street. The train left the
station on time. So far, so good.
The trip to Sacramento went as expected. After all, a train schedule is synonymous with
running on time. On time in this case meant a 10-hour layover in Sacramento. At hour 8,
however, there was trouble. A freight train on the Oregon border had derailed, blocking
north-south train traffic. Amtrak had decided to ferry the passengers by bus around the
blocked track. Amtrak told us that we would still be there on time because going by bus in
that area was faster than the train. Ok, that's not a show-stopping problem.
Apparently, someone at Amtrak found a way to route a train around the derailment. It
involved a freight line that hadn't seen passenger traffic since 1912. It also went
through hundreds of miles of northern California that was practically untouched by
development. Ok, this could be worse.
Along the way was some rolling stock on the track that had to be moved. The crew used a
convenient sidetrack for that and we were on our way an hour later. I thought that the
terrain was surprisingly rough for a train. Building this line must have been a stupendous
amount of work. This means that the average speed was often 10-20 mph --- it took a long
time. It took such a long time that the crew was pushing an apparently iron-clad, rock-
solid, inviolable rule: No crew can work more than a 12-hour shift. When the clock said 12
hours, the train stopped and we waited for a new crew to arrive. But, out in the middle of
nowhere, that took some time. So, near one of the very few towns, we waited for 4.5 hours
until the crew arrived by train.
There were numerous other waits but I've forgotten where and how long now. Maybe I could
have taken notes but I didn't and the details are lost forever now. The delay was becoming
long enough to be a problem. The train ran out of water. Most of the toilets didn't work
anymore. There was talk of supplies running low for some babies and drugs running low for
some people. A new conductor came on with the new shift and he must have been compelled to
walk down the train of irate passengers inviting questions. I can only imagine the heat
that he must have taken.
Eventually, we arrived in Portland. A couple of hours before, Amtrak had decided to cancel
the train and put all of the passengers heading north onto buses.
My bus left on time and arrived on time. That was the turning of the tide. After checking
into the hotel, I got my bike, took it to my room, and set about assembling it. The
headset was not as I expected so I took it to the ABB mechanic who simply pushed harder
than I did to make everything fit as it should. All's well now.
Today we went to the beach at Fort Stevens State Park. It was an easy ride of 15 miles.
There we dipped a rear wheel into the ocean, took a few pictures, and rode back to the
hotel.
On the way back, about two miles from the hotel, I heard a ka-boom and suddenly I was
riding on my rear rim. Uh, oh. It sounded like a blow-out and it was. While waiting for
the glue to dry to patch the tire, I ate a Clif bar. The wrapper was going to reinforce
the damaged sidewall. I pumped the tire up to about 50 pounds and rode the last couple of
miles. After getting a second opinion about the tire, the mechanic kindly took my spare
tire and mounted it. Now I have a mismatched set of tires: one blackwall and one
whitewall. But it's good now.
We had a long orientation meeting and went to dinner. Tomorrow starts early at 5:00.
https://picasaweb.google.com/105028088691793142510/June162013?authuser=0&feat=directlink
No comments:
Post a Comment