Love Trains

My first big train ride was an overnight trip through the small villages of the Soviet Union. I was 17 and traveling with a small group from my high school. Somehow we all managed to survive 4 years of Russian class. The 8-day trip was the reward for sticking it out.

I can't remember where the train started or ended, but I remember traveling through the darkness only being able to see the occasional illuminated windows in the cottages that dotted the countryside. Russia was like nothing I'd ever seen, but when I think about it these days I'd say the director of Dr. Zhivago got the landscape right.

On that overnight journey, I absolutely fell in love with train travel. 

Twenty years ago I was lucky enough to travel across the US and Canada by rail. I spent about 3 weeks on and off the train, sometimes for as much as 35 hours. At night I'd sleep curled up in my seat, unable to afford the luxury of a sleeper car at that time. I loved the gentle jostling of the car as it rocked me to sleep each night.  Upon waking I would look out the window and see how the landscape had changed while I slumbered. I was fortunate to see a few bears, sea lions, and a moose.

Yesterday I boarded the train again. I left the tiny train station in Alexandria, VA ready for a 2-hour journey to Charlottesville. When I heard the first clickety-clack sounds of the train's wheels passing over the rail joints my heart soared as a smile spread across my face.  I opened up my book fully intending to get some reading in but spent most of the time gazing out the window at the passing scenery.

I thought back to that first train ride in 1979 before texting my high school buddy Ed.

When we took the train in USSR what was our route?

Maybe we took the train from Leningrad to... I can't remember 

I told him I was on the way to Charlottesville. Through text, we tried to recall the details of the trip that took place so long ago. We couldn't agree on where we were but we agreed on one thing. 

Ed texted, I love trains.

Me too!