Photo by Luca Trovato
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On the Right Track
By Tom Miller, May & June 2006
All the romance and luxury of the golden age of rail await the choo-choo-choosy traveler on an American Orient Express journey
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It was midafternoon, and a bunch of guys were sitting around talking about the model trains they had as kids. One recalled that his was a narrow-gauge set, while another reminisced about the black metal box with the dial that made his train speed up, slow down, or go in reverse. I remembered the Lionel O Gauge that chugged its way around our basement for a couple of years in the '50s. We wallowed in nostalgia until Bill Moyer, a former Exxon Mobil executive, trumped us all by describing an elaborate model train, over a third of a mile in length, that curves high and low through its own building in his Pennsylvania community. "Lots of potential homebuyers are tickled to see it when they consider moving in."
This was not mere idle chatter on our part. We were settled into comfy chairs in the New York observation car at the rear of a train going more than 60 miles an hour carrying us from Denver to San Francisco, a handful of the 107 passengers aboard the maiden voyage of the American Orient Express (AOE) company's Rockies & Sierras tour. As two engines pulled us through the Rockies onto the Colorado Plateau and toward the Sierra Nevada, a floor-to-ceiling rear window afforded us an unobstructed view of the great American West.
Like the others, I have had a lifelong fascination with trains, their moaning whistles and their storied lore. The Orange Blossom Special. The City of New Orleans. Casey Jones. I've ridden a variety of trains on three continents, from rickety milk runs in the Caribbean to high-speed rails through Europe, but I'd never ridden in such style until, along with the others, I arrived at Denver's Union Station on a Saturday afternoon and was escorted to my cabin by a helpful uniformed porter. I had the luxury of a bunk bed, a table to shuffle papers or cards on, a good reading light—always an essential—as well as hidden closet space and a compact bathroom with shower. The best part, however, was the wide, clean window, through which I'd marvel at the American West in the coming days.
A champagne-and-hors d'oeuvre reception followed shortly in the Seattle club car (each of the train's cars is named for a destination worth visiting). That night, after an unhurried dinner in the Zurich car—one of two welcoming onboard dining cars whose well-prepared food and sociable atmosphere assured us of a hospitable expedition ahead—I retired to my cabin with Zane Grey's
Robber’s Roost in anticipation of the journey that would begin in the morning.
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