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Show THE ZEPHYRMARCH 1990 "We're here," said Larry. "It's time to get off." We pulled our bags from the overhead luggage rack, and made our way slowly down the steps and onto the platform. It was a madhouse hundreds of humans, luggage In hand, pushing and shoving their way to the Union Station Building. Larry and I finally reached the rail terminal, a cavernous old edifice with a high arched ceiling, eighty feet above us. We were Impressed. Larry checked the TV monitor that announced Imminent departures and discovered he could catch an early train for the short trip to Dwyer, Indiana. In a flash, Larry and his bags were flapping through the human maze for track 26 and home. Alone at last, I sighed. With a three-ho- ur layover before my train, the Cardinal departed for Washington, I decided to take a stroll around the downtown center, soak up a little of that Big City Ambience, maybe ride up to the top floor of the Sears building and check out the view. I hadn't really been atone and turned loose In a metropolis In many years. It was a strange and frightening experience. I asked several people for directions to the world's tallest structure and discovered that very few of them had any Interest In helping me In my quest I noticed that all of them refused to make eye contact with me Jhtl seemed to be critical. If they actually looked at me, to had they acknowledge my existence, which was apparently more than any of them could bear to Imagine. One old man pointed vaguely toward the bridge and trudged on. So did I. A fog rolled In, obscuring the skyline, and obviously the easiest way of Identifying Sears. But I turned a corner and saw the famous named etched In marble. Once Inside I searched for and located an express elevator. It only went as high as the 66th floor; then apparently you had to transfer to another elevator. Another man came aboard, Immaculately dressed In a Brooks Bros, suit and black camel hair overcoat, and stood In front of me. "Hello," I said and smiled pleasantly. The man looked frozen with fear. He said nothing. "Pretty foggy out today. Not much of a view I suppose." Silence. Nothing. I think he believed I was going to mug him or something. but I was wearing my flight jacket and thought I looked Granted, I was tle-le-ss, respectable. Meanwhile, the elevator climbed upward and so did my stomach. I started to feel dizzy. "We dont have elevators where I live," I volunteered. The man's back was facing me, but his head was turned down and slightly to the left. He was trying to watch me through his peripheral vision. If he detected a sudden movement from behind, It might, he must have reasoned, save his life. The elevator door opened, and he moved rapidly to the left and down the hall; I turned right, looking for the next elevator and a window. Within seconds, the security guards were on me. "What are you doing here?" they demanded. "I came up for the view," I shrugged. "On a day like this? Who did you come to see? Do you have an see some Identification," they said. appointment? Lets "Walt a mlnutel" I complained. "My father worked for Sears for 40 years. I have a right to come up herel" I explained my life to them, my trip on a train without toilets. They seemed more forgiving when I told them I was from Utah. Both nodded Why understanding, as If to say, "Well, no wonder you don't know any better didn't you Ifijj us you were from Utah at the start? The two guards led me. back to the elevator, we all shook hands and bid each other farewelL I left the Towers and never looked back. At Union Station, It was only a matter of minutes until they announced the departure of the Cardinal and gave the "All aboard" call. I hurried alongside the trans-contine- Stlles-U- ke de-boar- ded, I about 2 am, I was awakened by a Jolt. The train was moving. peered out I train had New Orleans figured the the window and saw us leaving the station. our on way. I pulled cars together and we would soon be were I We tomTthe shade back to sleep. A few hou re taler, wok; tup -Ut I the shade to 5 ajn. did not seem to be moving. I checked my watch In front of the San Antonio station again. discover I was At .S sitting There are times In all our lives when we are overwhelmed Instinctively by a sense of dread, where we sense that something Is terribly wrong. I bolted out of bed, pulled on my pants and stepped Into the hallway. My sleeper was adjacent to the baggage car; two men loading the car saw me emerge from my compartment and Jumped back. "What are you doing In there?" they demanded. "Well, I was sleeping, but why aren't we moving?" "Ain't nobody supposed to be In that car," he hollered. I'm on the Sunset Limited to LA." "They told me to come here The two men looked at each other In amazement. "Boy, you on the wrong train. The Sunset Limited left here two hours ago, after unhooking your car. Theyre halfway to Del Rio by no- w- You got a problem." I couldn't believe my ears. While I slept soundly In my little compartment, the Sunset Limited had disconnected my car, left me on a siding and departed. I'D BEEN LEFT AT THE STATIONI Grabbing my bags, and dressing as I ran, I leapt over the suitcases and luggage In the baggage car, jumped to the platform and ran to the station; my shirt tall flapping In the breeze. By the time I reached the Amtrak Information desk, I was close to panic. I was breathing hard, and I couldn't seem to articulate my thoughts. To the man behind the counter (who had Just come on shift), I was not making much sense. Fortunately, Amtrak agent Mike Evans was a patient and understanding man. There really wasnt time to assess blame, whether Amtrak was negligent or I was stupid. The fact was, my train had left without me. Mike assured me that one way or another, wed resolve the crisis, and believe it or not this Is what he did: First, he handed me $102.00 In cash; then Mike drove me to San Antonio International Airport where he'd reserved a seat on a Southwest Airlines flight to El Paso for me. At 8:30 a.m. the plane flew Into the clouds and headed west. Somewhere below me, the Sunset Limited was grinding through the desert With the time change, I arrived In El Paso barely an hour later. Amtrak paid my cab fare from the airport to the train depot, and when the big silver superliner pulled Into the station at 2 p.m., I was there to meet my own train. I finally boarded the right sleeper, and was escorted personally to my compartment by the attendant, Mohammad Tabache. Thereafter, Mohammad would scarcely let me out of his sight When the train stopped briefly In Tucson, and I got out to stretch my legs, Mohammad pleaded with me to stay nearby. "I must not let you go far," he explained. "We don't want to lose you again. Later the chief conductor came by and Introduced himself. "Youre something of a celebrity on our train, Mr. Stiles, he said, "at least among the staff. I myself have been with Amtrak for almost 20 years, and well, you're the first passenger Ive ever lost. Congratulations." I realized at that moment that being a celebrity Is not everything I dreamed It I From now be. might on, decided, I'll ride coach. Amtrak Canyon Country Bed & Breakfast Moab, Utah Postscript And that should have been the end of this tale with me drifting off In my coach seat on the Amtrak Cardinal headed for D.C. Things went swimmingly for the longest time. After a few days In Washington, I took the Metrollner to Philadelphia and then traveled by slumbercoach back to Chicago. There, I made connections went to with the Texas Eagle for the long haul to San Antonio. I Central America for three weeks (another story) and then prepared to get back on the train In Alamo town. Here briefly a problem arose, but It appeared to be quickly resolved. My train, the Sunset Limited for Los Angeles, was scheduled to leave at 3:30 a.m. I had gone extravagant for this leg of the trip and purchased a sleeping room. I arrived at the depot at 11 p.m. and asked the agent If I could board the train early, move Into my private room and go to sleep (Part of the train was already there; at 1:30 another train would arrive from New Orleans and combine with the other). The agent, a very helpful man named Lee Vela said he would do his besL After playing with the computer for awhile, he nodded and smiled triumphantly. "I can do It, he said. He gave me a new set of tickets reflecting the change and pointed me to the door. "Compartment number nine, Mr. Stiles.... Have a good night's sleep." I thanked him profusely and headed out the door. The loading platform was SO feet ahead and deserted, not a soul to be seen, but I spotted the sleeping car In and fell fast crawled climbed aboard. I found 9, pulled down the bunk bed, Ml 1 1 ntal train and asked the conductor at each coach car where I should board. At each No, point, he grunted and shook his head. I came to realize that this meant you don't board here. Finally, several cars down the line, the conductor shrugged and stepped aside. This must be the place, I assumed. "God, I love Chicago," I said. "It's my kind of town, and climbed aboard. The train was half empty. After stashing my gear, I walked to the toilet and hit the flush button. It flushed with such power, I thought It was going to suck the mirror rigid off the wall. I returned to my seat and looked out the window. We were pulling away from the station, emerging from the shed and Into the Chicago twilight. The fog had lifted and I could see the glittering skyline. I looked around me. The train was deserted, the toilets flush, Im alive and well and bound for D.C. What more could I ask for? I wrapped myself up like a pretzel, and while the train rolled and clattered through the grey-bla- ck night, I fell fast asleep. Blzzare Yet PAGE Mountain bikers and river runners often stay at the Canyon Country bed-anbreakfast. OUTSIDE magazine d- Children six and over welcome nouse with large patio Spacious ranch-styl- e Comfortable beds Private and shared bathrooms In town, quiet and off Main Street Air conditioning Delicious and Ailing Continental Breakfast Assistance in selecting the best local tours -Bike, Hike, Raft, Jeep & Scenic Flights No smoking on premises No pets, please Rooms start at $33.00 mountain bike rentals available Chuck & Judy Nichols 590 N. 500 W. Moab, Utah 84532 801-259-78- 82 800-635-17- 92 ir.I.'.'.'J |