t was quiet as the train pulled into Dodge City
—too quiet, because we weren't in Dodge City at all.
I'd hoped to be awake when we passed through Dodge, just so I could say I was there, and my watch told me we had another twenty-five minutes to go. Then I realized I had reset my watch from Central to Mountain time before retiring for the evening, so Dodge was already thirty-five minutes in the past.
It was quiet as the train pulled out of Dodge City ...
|Somewhere in New Mexico (Photos |
by your humble blogkeeper)
he train ride from Chicago was leisurely, pleasant, companionable, and entertaining in a way only travel by a method other than flying can be. In the coming days, I hope to bring you tales of technologically advanced Amish, a convention devoted to gourds, and an old guy named Shaky Ray who has an elevator in his closet and who just can't stop performing surgery.
In the meantime, the Southwest Chief got me to L.A. an hour ahead of schedule. When was the last time a plane did that?
© Peter Rozovsky 2013
Labels: California, images, New Mexico, Tales From a Train, travel, what I did on my vacation