I’m excited. I’m taking the California Zephyr train from Reno to Denver to celebrate Thanksgiving with my daughter, Kate, and her family.
I haven’t been on a real train for nearly 50 years. Can’t wait to be chugging up and down the Rocky Mountains and going from one train car to the next, searching for a friendly old man like me who wishes to swap stories about the good old times. I’ll buy him a club sandwich and chips in the dining car and believe every word he utters.
I’m bringing two books that are dusty on my shelf, one a fiction mystery story and the other a pictorial history of the wild west.
My bet is, I’ll get real creative just past Salt Lake City and go through two ballpoint pens jotting down prose and poetry in my old gray journal. I’ll be so full of joy, I may not want Denver to ever show up.
The trip will take about 28 hours, and yes, I purchased the top ticket with a private room, a fold-out bed, toilet and shower. After all, I’m 80 and deserve such luxury.
What could go wrong?
I’ll let you know after Thanksgiving.
I love a parade