Train + Antlers = Hobo

I have never been so happy to see an electrical outlet. I had pictured every seat on the train having an outlet next to it, so I could happily plug in my computer and watch movies or write about all of the weird shit I saw. Alas, the first seat I got had nothing of the sort. All it had was a neighbor named Karen, who is a nice woman from Bakersfield. She showed me the ropes - how to work the chair (stuff your suitcase under the legrest to hold it up if it is broken, which it generally is), how there are no electrical outlets where we were sitting...well those were the big things she showed me.

The train was packed leaving Sacramento, and the conductress was nearly at her wits end trying to accomodate everyone. But we all got on the train. Even with the gentle rocking of the train, sleeping was mostly a ruse. I closed my eyes to try and make my body believe it could slumber in a slightly-more-comfortable-than-an-airplane chair while trying not to lean/snuggle/drool on my neighbor. Conditions were not ideal for sleep. There was one guy with the grossest snore I have ever heard. Seriously. Some other guy scared the crap out of me during my one moment of actual sleep that night. He was walking down the aisle, and I guess the train jerked or something, and he tripped and caught himself on my chair. The result was me startled awake with some strange 50 year old man's face about an inch away from my eyeballs. Eventually the sun came up and I could stop trying to trick my body into sleeping. Luckily a whole slew of people exited train left at Klamath Falls (who knew it was such a destination), so I got a double seat all to myself. And as if by magic there is an electrical outlet by this one! I feel like I earned it.

The scenery was beautiful today, we passed Mt. Shasta this morning and saw a few other volcanic peaks along the way. There were ravines and rivers and gorgeous Jeffrey Pine and Douglas Fir forests. I got a picture of a hobo waiting by the side of the tracks in Klamath Falls. If you look closely, you can see his antlers, which are a critical component of hobo train-riding culture. This guy walked down the aisle later with a freakin antler in each hand.


Anyhow, my friend Claire picked me up from the train station this afternoon, we had dinner, and now I am lounging in a room way nicer than the one I left back in Berkeley. Maybe traveling isn't so bad after all.