Moving east

As difficult as it was to decide, I could feel myself beginning to get antsy and I knew that it was time for Nancy and I to head out.  Sunday called for a beautiful day of riding and, though it was meant to be followed by one last hurrah of stormy weather, all of the fried fish in me could not keep me from loading up Nancy and leaving my heavenly home-away-from-home with Al and Sally in Milton.  Emily, too, was headed out on Sunday morning for her drive back to Ohio as she had also been a big follower of the weather forecasts in the preceding days.  It was lovely to all have breakfast together and that really reminded me how fortunate I am to have found such kind people.  I headed out just after 7am with my sights on Defuniak Springs, about 60 miles away.

I followed Route 90, as I have been most of the way, and was pleased by the lack of Sunday traffic and smooth shoulder.  Several people had warned me that the road was hilly, and I had mostly been unsure whether to be concerned or simply laugh at what people in these parts might call a 'hill'.  I'd say it was somewhere in between.  I was actually quite glad to have some rolling ups and downs that certainly didn't compare to North Vancouver or even to the roads in the Tantramar but did provide some variation.  There was a bit of a headwind so having slight alterations of slope certainly made the day more interesting.  I arrived in Defuniak Springs around 2pm as hoped, as I wanted to have lots of time to look around town and weigh my options as to where I might sleep.  A key feature of the town is the springs, which means it has a large circular lake with a lovely park and walkway around it.  I wound up chatting with a lady who told me all about the history of the town and its beginnings.  While she was sorry not to be able to offer me a place to sleep as her elderly parents would find it too unnerving, she gave me some ideas around town and strongly discouraged camping as there was a severe storm alert for the area.  I had thought this would be the case in terms of weather and went to buy myself a cookie to help ponder it over.

Defuniak Springs, Florida

Check out that circularity! 

This place had a Sackville-esque feel to it

They should know better than to try and convince a traveling cyclist to share food!

Hotel Defuniak, highly recommended as being friendly, accommodating, and very welcoming to cyclists

Haven't seen one of these signs before

Essentially, Defuniak Springs lacks amenities such as fast food and 'Super 8' type motels in its historic downtown, but those can all be found about 3 miles down the road by the I-10 highway.  I decided that it would be a wise move to find a hotel for a good night's sleep.  While I did not love the idea of checking into one of the motel chains, the historic Hotel Defuniak on the downtown block seemed a bit out of my budget.  I figured I may as well go and check it out anyhow before heading to the land of soulless highway-side America (OK, I haven't actually gone down that way so I don't know, perhaps I am jumping to conclusions).  The woman at the front desk was very kind and happy to tell me the room rates as well as what might be around.  I think she noticed me wince at the price (if the appearance of a cycling 20 year old woman wasn't indicative enough of my wallet-size), but after hearing that the hotel was independently owned by a couple in town I decided that I certainly felt better handing over wads of cash to these people than I would anywhere else.  Plus, I had a feeling that I would wind up finding the motel chains too soul-sucking and would simply keep cycling to who-knows-where before collapsing in a heap of tiredness as darkness fell and lightning started and...  Perhaps an exaggeration, but needless to say I got a good vibe from the place.  She was kind enough to give me a reduced rate and explained that there was hot breakfast served.  How I do like breakfast.

I put my things in my room and Nancy in the lobby restroom which apparently often doubles as a bike storage facility and went to walk around a bit more.  By chance, I ran into the hotel owners and wound up chatting with Tom for awhile.  After giving me the usual concerned/confused look when the answer to 'how many in your group' was singular rather than plural (no offence, Nancy), he insisted that should the weather be bad tomorrow and I needed to hole up another night it would be at half-price and he would let the desk staff know.  I am pretty sure he was worried I might try and camp in a lightning storm to save a nickel or two, as I had been sorely tempted to in the first place, and thanked him for the generous offer.

The evening consisted of TV-watching, polishing off the muffins Sally and Al had packed for me, Skyping with the homeland, and listening to the rain and thunder roll in.  The latter made me content with my decisions, helped by the excessive number of pillows I could surround myself in.  The weather forecast for Monday did not look promising (aka giant red blobs and thunderstorm/flash flood warnings), but I figured I'd just go to sleep and re-evaluate in the morning.

Slothfulness prevails in the best possible way

When I did get up and check the weather, it was not a good sight to be seen.  There was a nasty weather system building and moving eastward that basically meant headwinds followed by thunderstorms and accompanying sudden downpours.  The middle one of those is what caused me the most concern.  Wind is inevitable on such a trek, rain is acceptable provided it's not so bad that drivers can't see you, but lightning is something that I have always found awesome yet unnerving not having had much of it in Vancouver.  So, it seemed that I would be taking up Al and Sally's offer to put me up, assuming they could put up with me.  OK, not the best pun, but I've been getting rusty not living with the punster Tim in Sackville, so I do my best.   I also made a good one about frying fish, but more about that later...

So, Al cleared his schedule and decided that we should go see the beaches since I had not yet experienced those of the Floridian panhandle.  Off we went in his truck to Navarre, 'Forida's best kept secret'.  As we unloaded Nancy and Al's trike, I could see why.  The scenery, great company, and headwind followed by a tailwind when we turned around (ah the luxury of a non-touring multi-directional ride) made for a great morning of riding near the beach.  Al is training for a big bicycle trek in Maine, where some of his family lives,  this June and is hoping to do it on the trike!  We then went over to the Pensacola beaches.  When Al and Sally had mentioned 'dipping my toes' in the Gulf of Mexico the night before at dinner, I took that to mean that I just had to jump in.  Twas a windy day so I didn't stay in the water long as the waves were quite rough, but boy am I glad I got that opportunity.

Al on his trike

Me testing it out.  Boy is it neat to ride!

Big waves, but the water wasn't as cold as I expected

To sum up, from Wednesday afternoon until Sunday morning, I did not make any 'progress' that might be seen on a bike touring route map.  What I did do, however, was feel comfortable and welcomed into Al and Sally's home and lives and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.  I got to try grits for the first time when we had company for breakfast and I just may have to swap them in for oatmeal on occasion.  Sally invited me to join her at the writer's group she is president of, and I was fortunate enough to spend an evening in the company of over a dozen enthusiastic characters who shared everything from pieces of science fiction to poetry from a woman who had never before shared her writing with others.  Emily, one of Al and Sally's dear friends, was also staying at the house for the last bit of my stay and, well, Al joked that he was quite hard done by from having three women around to give him a hard time.  On Friday I did some baking and made peach muffins, coconut rice pudding, and an apple crisp for Saturday's fish fry.

What is a fish fry, you might ask? Or maybe it was just me who needed to ask such a silly question.  Anyhow, on Saturday afternoon after a walk around the neighbourhood and game of dominoes with Emily and Sally, people from Al and Sally's church group started to arrive laden with food and smiles.  There were six different kinds of fish being deep-fried, in the shelter of the garage due to non-sunny-weather, as well as hush-puppies and many other treats.  I had a great time chatting with people about all sorts of things and there is clearly a great sense of caring in this community of faith.  Hearing stories of how people ended up living in the region, being shown pictures of grandchildren on iPhones, and listening to how some of these people felt about American politics and their neighbours to the north made me feel like a welcome participant and a curious observer at the same time, both of which I have found I really like when travelling.

Post-plunge, may be sneezing out saltwater for weeks...

Two Canadians in Florida.  Sally and I during my baking session.
A piece of mango destined to sit atop the rice pudding!

Dauphin Island to Milton FL (by bicycle, boat, and Al-mobile)

When I got up in the morning, the high winds caused Mike and Linda to remind me about checking whether the Mobile Bay ferry was up and running.  Good thing too, as there was simply a voicemail saying that it was quite breezy out and the boats were not going at that point in time but might start up later.  While I was a bit worried, I was assured that staying another night or getting a lift off the island the way I came and into Mobile (the alternative to the ferry, which adds another 20-40 miles depending on how you do it) were both options.  It mean that I got to enjoy a relaxing breakfast with two fine folks and spend more time talking.  While the scenery is beautiful and Nancy's saddle comfortable (kidding), that's the part of this trip that I have been enjoying the most.  Just chatting.  I was especially happy when Mike and Linda broached topics such as healthcare, politics, and gun laws because while I am really curious and enjoy sharing human experiences and views from both sides of the border, I tend to be hesitant to ask such heavy questions as a sort-of-stranger-now-friend generously hands me breakfast after a great night's sleep in their home.  The ferry did start running and I packed up my things (along with a ziplock filled with tasty roasted almonds and seeds at Mike's insistence) and loaded up Nancy to ride down to the docks.  All in all, a truly lovely morning.

While I didn't have enough time to do it justice, I had a few minutes to walk around the Estuarine boardwalk before going to the ferry docks.  The Estuarine is an estuary intepretive centre with both indoor and outdoor portions.  Mike volunteers there, and I was pleased to get the chance to learn some of the birds and plants that I keep seeing around here.

The ferry!  It is here!

Sackville Love

Dauphin Island from the ferry.  They have a great paved bike path across the island and, if Mike and Linda are any indication, it is brimming with friendliness and hospitality.

Me having a nap on the ferry, all bundled up.  

Nancy having a nap on the ferry as the seas were rather rough.  It was just us and two cars on the 18ish passenger vessel.

I got off the ferry and, a bit stunned from a quick wake up from my nap in the sun, rode over to the restrooms to change into cycling gear and get my thoughts together.  As I walked back over to Nancy, I noticed two loaded cyclists riding onto the ferry and was trying to figure out how I missed seeing them when I disembarked.  Mulling this over and looking at my map, along walked a friendly looking fellow: "You must be on the Southern Tier.  Where are you headed to?"  Interesting.  It seems he knew what he was talking about in terms of American Cycle Touring Route Lingo.  Al introduced himself and, when we realized we were both WarmShower-ites he gave me a card and told me to give a call when I headed through Milton, about two day's ride.  I mentioned that I was mulling over when to take a rest day in the next few, he mentioned bad weather, offered a ride back to his place in Milton in the truck (from which the two cyclists had just unloaded from and dashed onto the boat), and gave me a chance to mull it over.  I had noticed the night before that there was a lack of WarmShowers hosts past Milton, an ugly weather system of thunderstorms and headwinds, and had been planning to hope the answer would come to me during my ride towards Orange Beach and Pensacola.  I figured that while I was looking forward to that day of cycling, camping in a thunderstorm and fighting headwinds did not sound like the best of times, so we loaded Nancy into the truck and headed to Milton.

Al was kind enough to point out things that we drove past, noted the Alabama/Florida border, and basically welcomed me with open arms on no notice.  When we got back to his place, he opened the fridge for me, showed me to my room, and pinned a note on the door for his wife Sally warning her that she had company in the form of a fellow Canuck.  I decided that I would spend the night there and take a look at the weather forecast in the morning as to where/when this weather system was passing through.  Sally grew up in Ontario, and when she got home and I explained that her husband was taking in strays she made us some maple tea and we swapped stories about zeds, eh's, and canoeing.  OK, well not quite, but equally entertaining and enjoyable.

I got to have an unexpected day of muscle recuperation (which was probably good after the 125ish km ride to Dauphin Island the day before) and some fresh maple oat raisin muffins alongside a hearty hot supper.  I was really honoured when Sally offered to give me one of her books, as she has five self-published pieces and is working on a sixth.  I am looking forward to reading it as I continue on my trip.  While my legs were a bit itchy come bedtime, I still managed to be tired enough to hit the hay by 9pm in classic Naomi early-to-bed-style.  Al promised an early-morning knock at the door so I could check the weather and decide whether it was Defuniak Springs or another day of slothfulness with this wonderful couple.

Gulfport to Dauphin Island

Headed out from Barb and Bernie's in Gulfport around 8:30 following a decadent breakfast of granola and oatmeal in a bowl of hot chocolate.  Gone were the dark clouds and headwinds of yesterday and I had a lovely bike ride along the beach sidewalk as well as on the road through that part.  There were certainly cars on the road, but not too much traffic and I only had one person yell things out the window at me near Biloxi, MS.  Plus, I couldn't make out what he was saying, so I'm going to assume that he was simply cheering me on enthusiastically.  Perhaps the aggressive tone is simply a Southern cultural norm that I have yet to get accustomed to.

Blue skies and the Mississippi Sound

The guy I asked to take a picture of me seemed hesitant at first, but then proceeded to walk halfway across the road to fit as much of the shark's head as possible.

Ran into Fena and John from Oklahoma who were just finishing off their trip along the Gulf shore.  Happy to see some other brightly coloured cyclists and chat about the road ahead.  Check them out at www.mytripjournal.com/snowbirdsonbikes

Was not hungry nor brave enough for this, but couldn't resist taking a picture.  The Harte/Martz combination lives on in Pascagoula!

Awesome downhill coasting on this bridge

Just past Pascagoula I decided to make a slight detour via the Chevron refinery area.  Turns out that when one is hungry and bored of Route 90, the best decisions are not always made.  Decided to try turning down a road (which did actually have a sign for the town I had to eventually end up in) and enjoyed an awesome tailwind which lessened the presence of many enormous transport trucks.  Red flag!  Tailwind+bad traffic+no shoulder+no map/GPS means that looking at a map might be a good idea.  I wound up 4 miles down a dead end road and, when I turned around defeated, noted the Chevron security truck headed my way.  Apparently I was on private property.  I tried convincing the lady to give me a lift back to the highway (she said it takes her 3 minutes in her car, I explained it would take me 30 in this wind), but apparently she is not allowed to leave her designated Chevron route while on shift.  So they wanted me gone, but weren't actually allowed to remove me from the property.  Lame.  Anyhow, there wound up being two lanes on my side on the way out so I plodded back that old friend of a road.  Upon reaching the intersection I had left 45 minutes earlier, my appetite had doubled and I scarfed down that amazing jar of lentils and rice, flavoured with the gumbo spices Kristin and Dave had kindly given me.  

Followed directions from WarmShowers John to take the old highway towards Dauphin Island (his directions were great, thanks John!) and, along the way, crossed the Mississippi/Alabama border.  Excitement.  I stopped at a McDonald's to use the restroom as there was a kind-looking worker outside having a smoke who could keep an eye on Nancy and my gear.  Came outside to find a rather talkative woman who spent about 15 minutes talking about her kids, her car, and how she should take up cycling to lose weight.  As she described her weight loss/gain graph in great detail, I proceeded to eat what I would estimate to have been 1500 calories of trail mix, gumbo-jar-food, and granola.  Not sure if she noticed, but I certainly enjoyed the irony.

So long, Mississippi.  I enjoyed our time together.

As I got closer to Dauphin Island, my destination for the night, I noticed the beautiful sky colours.  This also meant it was getting closer to dusk.  Ack!  I gave Linda and Mike a call when I was at Alabama Port to say that I 'was just at the water tower, and would be a good half hour or so'.  Turns out I should have specified that I did not mean the Island water tower, but rather the Alabama Port one.  When she laughed at my estimated timing and said it would be much less, I should have known something was up.  I wound up going over the glorious 3 mile bridge to Dauphin Island (and yes, there was an actual hill to it) just in time to catch the end of the sunset and had my bike lights and reflectives going full force.  When I did reach the Island water tower, it was certainly the hour of streetlights being useful and, while I did go in to check for directions at the local food establishment to check directions as I knew seeing signs would be difficult, it was a good thing that Mike "the worrier" had come out in his car to track me down.  

When I had gotten in touch with the WarmShowers hosts on Dauphin Island, they had said that they would be out of town but were kind enough to ask their friends Linda and Mike if they might be willing to drag in a stray cat like myself.  Well, John and Jan, I am so thankful and pleased that you did this!  Linda and Mike greeted me with warm smiles, a locked spot for Nancy to sleep, a cushy room, a warm shower, delicious food, and a kindness that should not come as a surprise at this point but still seems to.  Linda's pasta, brussel sprouts (with pecans, will have to try that when I get home), and almond brownies would have made that McDonald's weight-loss companion throw her french fries into the wind.  It was great hearing about life on Dauphin Island, getting to play with their dog, Lucy, and seeing their excitement about an upcoming trip to Italy.  

Me with Linda and Mike, my Dauphin Island step-in WarmShowers family

Slidell to Gulfport

Had a nice sleep in, headed off with Dave and Kristin for company for the first part of the day towards Gulfport, Mississippi.  It was a day of headwinds, so having people to chat with up until the Mississippi border was much appreciated.  The day was fairly tree-ed/swampy for the first half of the ride, followed by a coastal bit on the Mississippi Sound.  This included Long Beach which, true to form, felt rather long indeed (though this was likely a case of the wind and on-off rain rather than the actual distance).  There is a lovely beachside boardwalk/sidewalk which includes not only a traffic-free zone but also some giant potholes and treacherous zones.  So it was a good 25 miles of choice:  riding in traffic on a smooth but shoulderless road or a sidewalk that was quite bumpy and I had to walk in certain parts.  I alternated, mostly favouring the sidewalk as I was not keeping up a very good pace and, well, drivers aren't always so pleased to have cyclists on the road much less when they see what seems like a good alternative.  Alas.

Dave and I at the Mississippi border.  Best of luck, Dave and Kristin, on your upcoming adventure!

The peak of this stretch was the deception of Walmart.  At one point, up ahead, I saw traffic lights.  Excitement!  I figured this was one of my 'waypoint' roads that meant I had actually gotten somewhere.  Turns out that a Walmart parking lot gets its own traffic light and it was full of lies.  Oh well.  The man-made beach was beautiful in the stormy weather and I made it to Barbara and Bernie's in Gulfport right at dusk.  On a non-sarcastic note, there is something awesome about spending that much time out in the wind and salty, sandy air in stormy weather and I finished off with a very content feeling.

Barbara and Bernie were kind enough to show me to what is currently their 'guest house' until tenants move in, and I had a wonderful shower and great meal with the two of them.  They truly are a haven for travelers, as active members of WarmShowers and CouchSurfing, and their guestbook is filled with lucky people who have come through.  Together, we ate tasty meal of pasta, fried okra, salad, fried spinach (so good!), and other Southern treats such as crawfish that I really enjoyed tasting.  They seemed happy to answer my endless questions about the region and their adventures before I headed next door for a satisfying sleep.  Thanks to their hospitality, they sent me off with some oranges and I even had the opportunity to make some rice and lentils in their kitchen to have for lunch the next day.

New Orleans to Slidell

Nancy and I arrived safely in the city of New Orleans, half an hour earlier than expected.  Way to go, Amtrak!  I took my time getting the handlebars and pedals and looking for scrapes and bruises, but looks good so far.  I heard several horror stories about bicycle-train transportation en route, but safe travel appears to have been the case for us.  We made our way over to meet Peter, my first WarmShowers host, at a cafe near his place a few blocks from the train station.

For anyone who hasn't heard of WarmShowers, it's an online cycling community of bicycle enthusiasts, tourers, and friendly two-wheel-supportive folk.  People offer lawns to camp on, beds to sleep in, kitchen space, and, as the name suggests, a warm shower to fellow cyclists.  Those travelling by bicycle can get in touch by email or phone in the hopes of being hosted, getting route advice, and just about anything else.  I have hosted through WarmShowers in the past and sent a few emails for trip route advice before planning this trip.  If you are familiar with CouchSurfing.org, it's a similar idea though more cycling-specific. I encourage you all to check it out!  At the risk of sounding like a total hippy, it's built on ideas of reciprocity, kindness, and general cyclist karma and love.  Seriously though, I'm going to be using it a fair bit and will let you know how I fare.

After meeting a welcoming Peter and bringing Nancy inside to a safe storage place, I got some directions about places to wander before dark and went out walking.  Also purchased a pay-as-you-go cell phone for use while travelling.  I wasn't too keen on the idea of buying something that is made to be thrown away, but my Canadian phone has been less than reliable and I figure I will find some unsuspecting traveler to pass it along to when I return to the Great White North.  I got back from walking around to smells of delicious spaghetti, in which delicious flavours of cilantro, jalapenos, lime, and feta could be found.  Tasty, homemade, vegetarian fare was an exciting thing indeed.  I spent a needed evening re-packing my panniers into cycling-mode (aka spandex on top, normal clothes on bottom...only sort of joking) and catching up on sleep.

Lucky for me, Peter was happy to join me on the first part of my ride to Slidell as he wanted to check out the Vietnamese New Year festival that was happening out that way.  He works for the city planning department and is involved in bicycle advocacy work in New Orleans, and I was glad not only for the company riding out on my first day but also for his insight as to how bicycle culture in the city can grow and what he is excited about.  Not only was Peter warm and generous, but I really enjoyed talking to him about ideas of city planning and cycling.  Also, and I swear he did not put me up to this, check out this organization that is working hard in the area:  http://bikeeasy.org/

The rest of the ride out to Slidell was nice and relaxing as I enjoyed the sunshine, lack of wind, and lack of hills.  While I do love the mountains, I think this trip is going to teach me a new appreciation for flatness, especially as my legs adjust to their new required output.  

Riding out of New Orleans to Slidell

View of a historic site from the top of the largest hill on the ride, a bridge over the water.  I think that by bicycle is the best way for me to enjoy such a flat region.

Didn't get the chance to chat with anyone, but I certainly appreciated a tree at the edge of their parking lot as a good place to scarf down some food.

In Slidell, I arrived at the Musser home.  Dave, his girlfriend Kristin, and Dave's parents were all around to welcome me and I enjoyed meeting all of them and hearing about Dave and Kristin's upcoming trip.  They are embarking on a giant figure-eight of the US by bicycle and putting rubber to the road in two weeks' time.  I got to drool over their gear, see the written-upon maps, and could feel their budding excitement.  They are taking a couple of years (or however long it takes) and this epic adventure has been many months in the making.  Hopefully I can keep up on their adventures via their site, http://www.daveandkristincrossamerica.com/

Went for dinner with Dave, Kristin, and a few of their friends.  Great company was complemented by tasty 'gator bites' (that's right, I took the plunge to try alligator).

Only my walking and sleeping muscles are sore

OK.  Relationship between Naomi and blog begins.  No hard feelings if it doesn't work out, but I figure it's worth a shot.  Plus, it will have to be easier than blogging from the salmon cannery in Prince Rupert with its dial-up connection.

So, I'm going off to be somewhere new for a bit.  I am writing this from the "City of New Orleans".  Note that the quotation marks point to the fact that I am not actually in New Orleans, merely on a train that bears the name of its end destination.  Not quite as epic, but I'll take it.  I did actually expect to be in the Big Easy tonight, but *insert some quotation about the best laid plans and mice and men*.

An excellent book display in Seattle's Chinatown

From Seattle

I think I'll wait until I'm out of Cascadia for this

Signs of Mardi Gras in a grey Seattle

Apparently Montana has huge wind farms!  

This follows several months of pseudo-planning, a month of embracing life as a liftee-pseudo-ski-bum at Cypress, a fortnight of semi-focussed planning (aka destroying mom and dad's house while they were away as I spread my belongings onto every surface possible in an attempt at 'packing'), and a rather long night-before of preparations that resulted in 1.42 hours of pre-departure sleep.  On Tuesday the 12th of February, a bleary-eyed uncle Brahm ensured that I made it alive to the Vancouver train station along with Nancy the two-wheeled Giant, her melodiously tempting bell that Brahm had to ring several times at 5:45am, and my four pannier bags.  The train to Seattle was uneventful, the US officials decided that going to New Orleans for pleasure and staying with a friend while being a part-time student was kosher enough for entry to the country, and suddenly I was getting off the train.  I put my two panniers into storage and spent the afternoon wandering around.  Highlights included strolling through downtown, eating my jar of squash soup on a park bench with a friendly homeless fellow, sampling apples and chocolate pasta at the market, and, as required in a new place, locating some coconut buns in Chinatown to tide me over and bring on the train.


I boarded the train in Seattle bound for Chicago.  Note the hopeful term 'bound for'.  Due to a derailment of a freight train laden with soybeans, passengers were de-trained in Havre (pronounced have-her) and bussed to Malta, where we got on the train that had been headed the other direction.  Some sneaky criss-crossing of people on the part of Amtrak.  While there certainly was a lot of waiting involved, I certainly thought the Amtrak staff did a great job of staying upbeat and answering billions of questions with patience.  Plus, on the bus ride, there was a film played about Lincoln's assassination and conspiracy theories, so it was nice to brush up on my American history.  I sat next to a lovely lady with whom some great conversations were had.

Memorable snippets:

"I thought I would miss the Washington mountains when I moved back to Illinois, but there's something about riding around a field of corn or soybeans that just turns me on."

"She had a good life.  Plus, she was a Christian, so at least we don't need to worry about where she went."

By this point, we were several hours behind schedule.  We boarded the sister train, and I sat with a fellow named Brad who was headed to Michigan to visit his two kids whom he hadn't seen for a couple of years.  After awhile, our car attendant, Connie, said that it was OK to spread out to unoccuppied pairs of seats should we desire more space to sleep.  Quite the gentleman, Brad has explicitly said that should this happen he would be the one two move rather than making the lady do so.  Upon returning from the lounge car later, he was not pleased that I had been inconvenienced by shifting the 3 feet over and I was dutifully chastised.   Nevertheless, I am hoping there are no residual hard feelings between us and he has a great visit.  Amtrak provided a complimentary supper meal and, while the 'beef stew' in small rations looked oh so appetizing, I was quite happy with my pieces of iceberg lettuce and two cherry tomatoes.  As they were trying to make whatever food they had stretch to feed everyone on the train, I fully enjoyed my roll with extra butter and went to sleep.

The next day I had a nice morning spent drinking hot chocolate and watching movies on my trusty netbook, with the knowledge that we were even further behind schedule.  At the St Pauls-Minneapolis station, everyone except those going all the way to Chicago got off the train to board busses.  The numbers in our car dwindled and sprawling was had.  The further delays when we were re-routed onto a set of freight-dominated tracks opened up lots of time to chat with people such as one Portlandian moving to New York.  I was confused by this, but enjoyed hearing his thoughts about Portland and growing up there, as well as the TV show 'Portlandia'.  Ali, who also had his bicycle on-board, was also headed to New York via Chicago and we chatted about the beauty of bicycles and his two months of travels in various cities along the American West Coast.

One of the enthralling train stops between Seattle and Chicago

When we did get to Chicago Union Station, it was 12:30am (rather than the expected 4:00pm), and, like sheep, we waited for hotel/food/taxi vouchers.  We arrived at the snazzy hotel in Chicago by taxi and, by the time it was all sorted out, the luxurious room given to me with two choices of queen-size comfy beds was blurry but certainly appreciated at 2am.  I had a lovely sleep, some extra cash in pocket from the Amtrak food/taxi allowance and a day to spend in Chicago until the Friday train at 8pm.  After waking up at a late-enough hour, I checked out of my palatial digs and left my bags at the hotel to head off wandering.

The Mississippi River in its northern form

Thanks to Amtrak, my digs in Chicago

Chicago

Chicago

In Havre...note the Canadian on the left, American on the right

As luck should have it, a fellow stranded Amtrak-er was also headed out at the same time and we decided to head off in the same direction.  Ali had big plans of the touristy things I lovesuch as walking around, locating Spanish food for breakfast (which is apparently the same thing as Mexican food), and not going up the Sears tower.  He had been to Chicago briefly before and we spent the day (1) meandering around some neat neighbourhoods he had seen and been told about, (2) located burritos that were well worth several slight metro mishaps en route in which I was no help, (3) freezng our hands and ears off walking along the lake, and (4) eating deep-dish pizza at my request.  A trivial point of note might be that it was only post-(2) and amidst (1) that Ali mentioned that he did not actually know my name, prompting the brainwave on my part that this gap in knowledge was mutual.  Lesson learned: You don't need to know someone's name in order for them to lead you to what was possibly the best vegetarian breakfast burrito ever made.  Thanks to Lydia for the Facebook reminder about the importance of scheduling deep dish pizza into my day and to my new friend Ali (and his iPhone, of course) for catering to my every whim and desire.  I had a lovely time and cannot think of a better way to have started off my trip than an unexpected day of big city exploration with such a wonderful person.

Ali the Chicago tour guide who lives in New York

The lake

After a quick taxi ride from the talkative Andre, who adamantly argued that New York is not a friendly place as people are too abundant and too busy, learned about the difference between Pakistan and Palestine, and had nothing but praises for and wishes to visit Vancouver, we arrived at Union Station just in time for me to get on the train.  Probably an indication that I need to buy at watch considering I forgot mine at home and have yet to acquire a cell phone.  Don't worry, Mom, it'll happen.

So here I sit, on the City of New Orleans, en route to the city of New Orleans, writing this first blog post to upload at a later date when on the intraweb.  I am looking forward to getting re-acquainted with Nancy, freeing her from that cramped travel box, and going for a bike ride out to Slidell on Sunday.