Chicago to Cumberland (Day one)

 My last morning in the Oak Grove crash pad. There’s nothing wrong with the place but there’s nothing right with it either. After so many days of being cooped up in that hotel room it felt good to check out and move on.

I took a bus to the L and the L to Union Station to drop my bag off. Luckily CHI is staffed and will hold your bag for the day for ten bucks. A bargain. As I made my way out from The Loop I noticed gobs of people heading east. I read their shirts and signs. Ahhh yes, No Kings Day. There is nothing more quintessentially American than a protest against executive power. Well, maybe avoiding paying your taxes.

America the beautiful

After breakfast I walked to Grant Park to see the assembly. Wow what a crowd of people. It warmed my heart to see so many peacefully assembling to stand for what they believe in. I pushed further east to the shore of Lake Michigan. The city has a lovely walking path connecting the lakeshore, their parks, and the riverwalk. I spent the afternoon wandering it all in search of one of those horrible touristy slop shops to sell me a postcard.

Packed house

After posting the cards (what else?) I connected, again, with Felicity. My unexpected delay in town had landed us in the same place at the same time once more. While she waited for her architecture cruise, we caught up on her time in Omaha (lovely) and her latest observations on The United States. Always fun to get an outsider’s perspective on our chaos.

Standing room only

By this point she had to go on her cruise and I was getting thirsty. I located a rooftop bar nearby from which I could enjoy a view of Chicago and its worst culinary export, Malört. For those not in the know, Malört is a liquor from Chicago with a horrible taste that is adept at not only poisoning your tastebuds but coating them in its noxious flavor. Naturally I needed a shot of it, naturally I wasn’t able to finish that shot.

The wincing is the Malört

I closed out and walked back to Union Station. The Floridian had started boarding and I needed to be on it. As soon as I saw the train, disappointment set in, I was going to be packed in to an Amfleet for an overnight train ride. For those not familiar, Amtrak’s long distance fleet west of Chicago is based on the Superliner. A two story rail car with good ride quality, good views, and comfortable seating. East of Chicago, trains are more likely to be subjected to older routing with tighter clearances, enter the Amfleet. These were build by the legendary Budd Company of Philadelphia in the late 1970s and still make up the backbone of Amtrak’s northeast corridor rolling stock. If you’ve ever been on the northeast regional, you’ve ridden an Amfleet. They are the last old school rail cars that were truly made in the USA and will probably be around long after I die. Budd don’t break. Compared to the Superliners we have out west, they are narrow, rough riding, worn down, and have small windows. Not ideal for an overnight run.

To add insult to injury, my rearward neighbors were noisy. So noisy that at 2 AM I was motivated to get out of my seat, turn around, and remind them that it was in fact two in the morning and that some folks were hoping to sleep on this overnight train. Luckily this low stakes social interaction scared them shitless and got them to be quiet long enough for me to stop being conscious. Discussing your fantasy novel at two in the morning on a train is fine. Doing so outside of the lounge car is not. Please be perceptive and notice when you are the loudest person on the wagon.