Monday, March 24, 2008
The South Shore Line
Lately, I've been thinking about trains a lot. It might have a lot to do with the fact that I've been reading a lot of Paul Theroux lately. It might also have to do with my impending move to New York City and giving up my car. This means that most of my short to medium trips will suddenly take place on rails rather than tires. I've always loved the train. We lived near the Amtrak rails to Detroit, and the city I lived in revolved around the South Shore Line.
The commuter railroad which runs between South Bend and Chicago is enjoying a renaissance and is now the 10th largest Commuter Rail system in the country, despite having only one rail line. Each year five million passengers take a seat on the silver Japanese rail cars. But when I was younger, the South Shore was a different animal, wheezing on life support and way past its prime.
I remember riding the rails with my mother to the South Side of Chicago when she went to work. We'd grab a donut next to the old station in downtown Michigan City, where the train still rides down the middle of the street. We'd hop in the very old Orange cars, vintage 1910 Pullman, for a slow ride. The train cars had stickers on them that said "The Little Train That Could." This was no joke, these train cars were built to last but after 70 years of daily use, the fact that they functioned at all was a bit of a miracle. I remember summer days, sitting on the ripped up horsehair seats, springs sometimes pushing through the cushion. I remember walking to what seemed like a mail car at the time during hot days, standing by the door that the conductors would leave open, so that there was a chance to cool off when the air conditioners would invariably break down.
For commuters, the South Shore was a nightmare. People avoided it in droves and on several occasions in the 1980's, it almost shut down, eventually being sold to a quasi-public company in Indiana for one dollar in 1989. As the government finally started to step in and help the railroad survive - which even in its worst years was getting nearly a million passengers to and from Chicago - new shiny steel cars that worked were introduced. The magic lessened for me, but its never disappeared. Almost every visit home involves a ride on the South Shore. There's always an odd duck to observe in the car, something strange to see out the window along the industrial remnants of Lake and Cook Counties. The train is special. And for me, it always will be.
The commuter railroad which runs between South Bend and Chicago is enjoying a renaissance and is now the 10th largest Commuter Rail system in the country, despite having only one rail line. Each year five million passengers take a seat on the silver Japanese rail cars. But when I was younger, the South Shore was a different animal, wheezing on life support and way past its prime.
I remember riding the rails with my mother to the South Side of Chicago when she went to work. We'd grab a donut next to the old station in downtown Michigan City, where the train still rides down the middle of the street. We'd hop in the very old Orange cars, vintage 1910 Pullman, for a slow ride. The train cars had stickers on them that said "The Little Train That Could." This was no joke, these train cars were built to last but after 70 years of daily use, the fact that they functioned at all was a bit of a miracle. I remember summer days, sitting on the ripped up horsehair seats, springs sometimes pushing through the cushion. I remember walking to what seemed like a mail car at the time during hot days, standing by the door that the conductors would leave open, so that there was a chance to cool off when the air conditioners would invariably break down.
For commuters, the South Shore was a nightmare. People avoided it in droves and on several occasions in the 1980's, it almost shut down, eventually being sold to a quasi-public company in Indiana for one dollar in 1989. As the government finally started to step in and help the railroad survive - which even in its worst years was getting nearly a million passengers to and from Chicago - new shiny steel cars that worked were introduced. The magic lessened for me, but its never disappeared. Almost every visit home involves a ride on the South Shore. There's always an odd duck to observe in the car, something strange to see out the window along the industrial remnants of Lake and Cook Counties. The train is special. And for me, it always will be.
Labels: chicago, nictd, south shore line, trains, travel
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Sunday Internet Roundup
So here's what I've noticed online lately.
You will need a passport to leave the US soon. And its sooner than you may have thought. The USA Today reported that you'll need a passport to leave the country by any method other than a cruise ship starting as early as January 31. Cruise ships to the Bahamas, Mexico, Canada and the Caribbean are exempt until sometime this summer - they haven't announced that date yet.
Whether its in Germany or on Amtrak, train rides can be a lot more challenging than you've ever thought. Brave New Traveler has some good tips on surviving a long trip on a slow train.
JetBlue is going wireless on its flights. Yahoo IM and Yahoo mail as well as your Blackberry mail will all work aboard one specific JetBlue plane starting on Monday, this news coming courtesy of The Cranky Flier.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Flashback: June 2003. The Start of Something Big
The date was June 4 and I was in South Bend. Sitting in John's VW, eating double cheeseburgers just before I was to start my new ambition of coasting across the world and living hand to mouth on odd jobs and the charity of friends and well wishers. Being as cheap as possible, I found myself flying out of New York and taking a 24 hour train across the midwest and northeast of the country to get there. Standing at that rundown station, in a not so nice part of the down at heel city - there were lots of feelings running through me. Feelings I wasn't ready to accept yet. It was the end of a lot of things - a difficult relationship with John, the boyfriend of 3+ years that I was about to leave for this dream, a very poor professional situation that was on its way to bankrupting me, a general feeling of malaise and being in a rut, and a feeling of comfortability.
It was the start of a lot of things too. My new career of travel was definitely one, which would soon founder along with my confidence. My love affair with simplicity in life (which I would grow again to hate, and then love again) started that week too. I was off to find a life, find a self-confidence and self-motivation. I was ready to get things started!
I was conflicted that day. Leaving my entire life behind. My material goods mostly stuffed in my old childhood bedroom, the boyfriend I'd grown to love despite all of our relationship's failings, my career - however shitty. I felt like I was at the start of big opportunities... and big mistakes. Turns out I was right on both counts.
The train pulled away from the station, my point of no return reached. I shed a tear, sat in my seat - and watched the miles start to fly by, not knowing what the future holds. I was a little sad. I was a little excited - but mostly ready to get moving and take whatever life had to offer.
The date was June 4 and I was in South Bend. Sitting in John's VW, eating double cheeseburgers just before I was to start my new ambition of coasting across the world and living hand to mouth on odd jobs and the charity of friends and well wishers. Being as cheap as possible, I found myself flying out of New York and taking a 24 hour train across the midwest and northeast of the country to get there. Standing at that rundown station, in a not so nice part of the down at heel city - there were lots of feelings running through me. Feelings I wasn't ready to accept yet. It was the end of a lot of things - a difficult relationship with John, the boyfriend of 3+ years that I was about to leave for this dream, a very poor professional situation that was on its way to bankrupting me, a general feeling of malaise and being in a rut, and a feeling of comfortability.
It was the start of a lot of things too. My new career of travel was definitely one, which would soon founder along with my confidence. My love affair with simplicity in life (which I would grow again to hate, and then love again) started that week too. I was off to find a life, find a self-confidence and self-motivation. I was ready to get things started!
I was conflicted that day. Leaving my entire life behind. My material goods mostly stuffed in my old childhood bedroom, the boyfriend I'd grown to love despite all of our relationship's failings, my career - however shitty. I felt like I was at the start of big opportunities... and big mistakes. Turns out I was right on both counts.
The train pulled away from the station, my point of no return reached. I shed a tear, sat in my seat - and watched the miles start to fly by, not knowing what the future holds. I was a little sad. I was a little excited - but mostly ready to get moving and take whatever life had to offer.
Labels: flashback, navelgazing, trains, travel
