In the movies the background sound of the train is a constant rhythmic rumble with toots of the airhorn-that almost feel like they’re occurring too often. In real life that rumble and constant toot is all too real. It is a comforting contrast to the sounds of other people and the chime of their devices pinging away in the rail car, the occasional announcement crackling through the speakers. It feels old-fashioned, but in the best way—like slipping into a story where the past and present blur into something timeless.
It is transit without the urgency of flight.
There is a particular rhythm to train travel, a gentle, ceaseless movement that feels like being carried forward through time. It seems dramatically different from flying or driving.
A little more than a year ago I started to think about riding the train as a form of adventure and travel.
In recent years I’ve missed my fair share of time off. I’m not the biggest fan of traveling by plane and the car is its own effort. I started thinking the train might be more than just a mode of transportation. I began to see it as a means of escape, a way to move through the world without the weight of an airport pressing down on me, or being behind the wheel.
