Travel Sellers Report: Circling America on Amtrak

Ted and Sylvia Blishak, owners of Train Travel Consulting at Accent on Travel based in Klamath Falls, Oregon, have been named one of the world’s top travel specialists by Conde Nast Traveler magazine every year since 2002. Among the reasons they love rail travel: the relaxed pace and the fun of meeting new people from different walks of life, no need to take your shoes off for security or use a seat belt, having meals delivered to their compartment — “and the desserts in the dining car.”

Looking at a new Amtrak timetable, Ted said, “Our friends and relations live all over the country and most are near Amtrak stops. Let’s visit them.” Thus began our plans for a five-week sentimental rail journey with stops in California, Arizona, Louisiana, South Carolina and Pennsylvania.

Packing for a trip with so many climate zones is a challenge, but with an Amtrak ticket in hand we could check our bags, with appropriate wardrobes, ahead to various stations along our route.

We departed from Klamath Falls, Oregon on October 31 at 10 p.m. on Amtrak’s double-level Superliner Coast Starlight #11. Our Deluxe Bedroom included a lower bed just big enough for two, a folding chair, and a private toilet/shower stall. We left the upper single berth unused and climbed into the lower, with its crisp sheets, cozy blue blanket, and four pillows. The motion of the train rocked and rolled us to sleep. The next morning, soon after breakfast in the dining car, found us looking across San Francisco Bay as far out as the Golden Gate Bridge. 

We spent a few days in San Francisco, where we were prepared to dress for the city’s famous cold fog, but were surprised by sun and 80-degree temperatures. (In fact, it would prove to be the warmest place we visited.)

Continuing on the Coast Starlight, we traveled through the fertile vegetable fields of California’s Salinas Valley. The Amtrak Superliner then climbed over the oak-covered Santa Lucia Mountains, where a far-off glimpse of the Pacific Ocean preceded our arrival in San Luis Obispo, Sylvia’s home town.

Sylvia still has friends here, whom she knew when she was four years old. The town (population only 10,001 when Sylvia left) has grown and it has become a tourist destination. Ted’s nephew and his wife, recent transplants from the Los Angeles area, live nearby.

On Nov. 5, we returned to the palm-and eucalyptus-shaded San Luis Obispo station, with its signature skyline of San Luis Mountain and Bishop’s Peak, in time for the 6:45 a.m. departure of the Pacific Surfliner. Views of sand dunes, fields of artichokes, and the Pacific Ocean unfolded as the train rumbles along the coastline.

Los Angeles Union Terminal was basking in perfect 70-degree weather. The patio at the art-deco, mission-style station with its shady lawns, Spanish tile fountain and extravagant California foliage was a pleasant place to wait between trains.

With six hours until departure, we parked our suitcases at the parcel room and ventured to nearby Olvera Street, a block away, with its Mexican-themed shops, restaurants, and music.

To the Grand Canyon. The Southwest Chief #4 departed just in time for dinner. In the dining car, booths seat four, with community seating the rule. Our tablemates were a pleasant couple from Japan.

The endless bright lights of Southern California towns stretched eastward for miles. Eventually, we rolled across the empty high desert as it drowsed under a nearly full moon. The train hit its top speed of 79 mph heading toward Arizona’s Grand Canyon country.

We picked up a rental car at Flagstaff’s Amtrak Station the next morning, turned onto the legendary Route 66 (which leads to I-40) and drove to Williams to check into the Grand Canyon Railway Hotel.

The tourist trains of Grand Canyon Railway run from the hotel to the south rim of the canyon. For the ninth year, there was a nighttime holiday train with a Polar Express theme, based on the children’s book and movie. The “North Pole”, a make-believe village complete with Santa’s sleigh and reindeer, stands at Milepost 17. Outlined in brilliant colorful lights, it left even adult passengers breathless. Santa Claus, authentic to the small rectangular spectacles, climbed aboard.

From Tucson to Lafayette. We dropped the rental car in Tucson and located the hard-to-find train station. Oddly, there were no Amtrak signs on the building, identified only as “Historic Train Depot”. Across the street was the Congress Hotel. Opened in 1919, the hotel looked its age, but with live music, a wedding party, and a crowd spilling out onto the patio, it was a hot party spot. We checked into the hotel, enjoyed the fine hors-d’oeuvres at Happy Hour, took a shower, and rested until the train’s departure, after midnight.

The eastbound Superliner Sunset Limited #2 stops here, and then rambles across the sand, sagebrush and cactus desert of Texas where distant mountains line the horizon. When we woke up next morning, the train was departing El Paso. The landscape soon changed to thick forests and swampland.

Our next stop was Lafayette, Louisiana. The conductor and car attendant got our suitcases down — there was no checked luggage at this stop — and hurried us off. “We are 15 minutes behind schedule,” said the conductor into his phone to the engineer. “Hi ball, number two.” And the train whooshed away.

Cajun Country. This stop was near a shaded bus terminal. A Coke machine held a placard saying “Louisiana Hospitality” and sported a photo of an alligator holding a coke bottle between its teeth.The new Crowne Plaza Acadiana hotel had sent a van to pick us up. The young driver offered us each a bottle of chilled water. 

“Lafayette has two personalities,” he confided. “We’re catering to tourists during the day, but at night we locals enjoy live bands and party in the various restaurants. We feel that life is to be enjoyed as much as possible, and we don’t like to hurry. See the strings of Mardi Gras beads people tossed onto tree branches? That keeps a Carnival feeling going for us year-round.”

Our driver’s Cajun accent was somewhat hard to understand. We arrived at the hotel, where he whisked our baggage up to our room, adjusted the temperature, and went out to fill our ice bucket – without being asked.

He corrected Sylvia’s compliment on his Southern hospitality, emphasizing: “This is Cajun hospitality!”

Our Cajun relatives welcomed us with traditional chicken and sausage gumbo. We cleverly took only summer-weight clothing to Lafayette, checking our cold-weather clothes ahead to Pittsburgh.

But on the day we left, the temperature dropped to 43 degrees with a cold wind. Back at the unmanned Lafayette stop, we boarded the Sunset Limited once again.

At lunch, we were seated with Rick, a male nurse from San Francisco. He was shocked by the hovels and boarded-up buildings we were passing. “They should all be torn down,” he opined. Bayous, rivers, and swamps appeared, as well as sea-going oil tankers at the edge of the Gulf of Mexico.

There was a bottle of Tabasco Sauce on the table, and we passed it to Rick, explaining that our relatives had just taken us on a tour of Avery Island, the quiet green oasis on top of a salt dome where the condiment is brewed. We had enjoyed Tabasco-flavored ice cream and soda pop while there.

“No thanks — I stay away from Tabasco. Mom used to sprinkle it on my tongue if I talked back or used bad language.”

A Night in New Orleans. Crossing the Mississippi on the 4.5-mile long Huey Long Bridge, we prepared to detrain in New Orleans, where we had to overnight, as trains don’t connect here. We spent the night at the historic Monteleone Hotel in the French Quarter.

Amtrak’s Southern Crescent #20 pulled out of New Orleans at 7:05 a.m. This Viewliner train was single-level with high ceilings and windows. It hurried along the shore of Lake Ponchartrain.

Coming soon: The Blishaks travel to Washington D.C. and return west through Pittsburgh, Chicago and Portland, and then share their tips on selling train travel.