King Street Station, once the hallmark of South Seattle is now dwarfed by two massive sports stadiums and tall buildings that would be the envy of Batman.
I’ve always been a train buff and can still recall distinctly the whistle blowing from the 1950’s E7 trains that ran from Sumas Washington to Auburn past our house in Juanita Beach. As youths, we learned the rails, so to speak, and figuring out how to exploit this free, yet dangerous method of transportation. Since these days, I’ve trained most routes on Amtrak, the span of Canada on ViaRail and numerous routes from Kristiansand Norway to Istanbul. Today I’m posting each day of my trip from Seattle to Tucson with numerous (to many actually) stops enroute.
After 45 days in and out of four hospital ERs and getting my CIPPline removed, I’m once again unteathered and a free man so spend my last night before departure on my tug Katahdin cleaning out 20 years of Alaskan detritus. I’m moored here beside the Henry Foss, recently sold to a Gulf Coast towing company, refit, and then leased back to Foss. I’m in good company here–home to where Katahdin ran for 30 years beginning in 1935.
At 9:55am sharp, we roll out of King Street Station, Seattle, beautifully restored. I booked a sleeper called a roomette and the trip begins. I’m told as I board, the route has been interrupted by a bus transfer somewhere near Sacramento due to track construction.
Here I’m crossing the Columbia River on the north channel to Hayden Island from Vancouver WA. I found the history if this island interesting because of the many names it has held (from Wikipedia):
Prior to arriving in Portland, I order a rare since I had such an early breakfast–is this what the working man does? Retirement has limited me to two meals a day The tableware is all plastic and the “eating irons” are silver in color to look real. I dine next to Nate & his wife–Nate is a auto-body repair supervisor of a chain of body-shops and can weld anything. He also loves to sport fish. The Portland train station is just as august as Seattle’s and they even sell cigars:
I get out to stretch my legs (Dr’s. orders) without proof of ridership and need to queue up all over again.
We’re now sitting for half an hour while a freight train clears the tracks ahead of us–this is the second unscheduled stop involving freight trains. Passenger trains have the right of way if they are within half an hour of their schedule. Once behind, it’s impossible to catch up. Not sure what the rules are for freight trains that hold up passenger trains. My car attendant is named Santee and she is from Jamaica. Santee means peace–I’ll see if she’ll let me take a selfie with her–I’ve encountered her on other trips–she has worked for Amtrak now for 38 years.
To be updated once or twice a day…..