Tales from The Rail: Denver to San Francisco: Part One

“Don’t touch my junk!” The Amtrak ticket guy quips when I tell him about how much I’ve learned to hate flying after loving it for so many years, particularily the wretched security lines. His reply was to that.

Think I’m going to dig Amtrak.

Getting here was easy. I got a ride to Union Station here in Denver from a friend, as quick and easy as being dropped off to get a car I left behind downtown but without the hangover & without a car to get. I ate breakfast at Snooze, the local breakfast hot spot.

Quick and painless was my boarding of the train. A 2 min walk if that to the platform with a set of steps down and an elevator back up the extent of the complications. The line only 10 people at that just so the conductor could scan my ticket and peek at my ID. They greeted me with the friendliness of an old friend, a stark change from the militant TSA agents who won’t even hint to a smile no matter how nice you are to them.

While in line I heard the couple behind me talk about bike touring so I struck up a brief bit of small talk about that with them. They’re going to Glenwood Springs to soak at the hot springs there, it’s their thing they do a few times a year. They carried very little which made me guess this was a day trip or one nighter at best.

My seat is big and comfortable. Nice at my size and though I’m at the smallest I’ve been in years width wise, I’ll always be tall. 6’2″ and all legs yet I can comfortably stretch my legs with plenty of room to go. I think even if I was 7″ I’d still have leg room to spare.

Each seat area had it’s own plug in so no worries of running out of juice. I’m also next to the ice water dispenser.

We’re moving now and going by Coors Field. I’m not a baseball fan but today it looks beautiful. Conductor has annouced it’s 2 hours to Winter Park. Time to sit back and take it in.