If it is Tuesday, that must be the Golden Gate
If it were a little closer I could get a good shot of the Bay and the bridge, but Emoryville is as close as we get. I have been concerned over a 50 minute connection in LAX, but at the moment the ETA is 43 minutes early.
Do you know the way to San Jose?
Just, follow the Amtrak rail, follow the Amtrak rail.
Tommorows strawberries
Mile after mile after mile of fruits and vegetables. Thousands of migrant farm laborers, the grocery basket of the nation.
It is early afternoon when the car attendant announces another locomotive has ”dropped the load” but the engineer has elected to try to make it to LAX with only one locomotive. We have been running about half an hour late, and I am getting nervous about making my connection.
An acquaintance on the train steps off in Paso Robles to get his wife a Diet Pepsi and when he returns the train has left. His wife and I enjoy a wide ranging discussion all the way to LAX. She is PCA (Presbyterian Church in America) and she defended the PCA’s stance on the ordination of women (they are opposed). Then a young man introduces himself as a PCUSA seminarian, indicates his support of my position and says our is the best discussion of the topic he has heard and asks my permission to quote me in a seminar he is attending. (The missing passenger and his wife were due to catch a Sounder from LAX to San Diego, and it turns out it is on the same track we are on about half an hour behind us. He sees the Sounder in Paso Robles and boards there instead of LAX and his wife joins him there.)
Suddenly we are in LAX and the Texas Eagle is one track away and a mile by underground tunnels. I am rescued by a Redcap with a golf cart and the Eagle is enroute to Fort Worth.
