Iron Road to the Capital of Latin America

Tomorrow I leave Savannah for Miami, the end of the line on Amtrak. A journey from a world constrained by history to a place that is still inventing itself.

For tourists, Charleston and Savannah are about colonial times and early independence through the end of the civil war. A white history with selective amnesia.

Miami tilts to the future: it feels young (apart from all the snowbirds like me) and optimistic. As late as 1890 it was a tiny settlement of about 300 people. Today's Miami-Dade County has over 2.6 million.

The Other

 Woolworth's lunch counter (Smithsonian)

I tried to build a coherent picture of my seatmate as I rode Amtrak from Cleveland to New York.

The obvious stuff: 40-ish, black, heavyset, financially on the edge. I got the financial bit as he talked on the phone about his imminent move to a smaller apartment.

He clicked away at his laptop, editing, re-editing video segments of silently dancing young women, fishnet leotards, backsides wiggling at the camera.

Iron Road to Dixie

This week I ride the rails south from New York City towards an America that is, in some ways, a foreign country to me.

Each night I'll sleep in a hotel, pausing in Washington, DC, and Charleston, SC.

In Savannah, GA, a friend will join me for a couple days. This will be the first time I get to see her since she moved from the Twin Cities to Atlanta a few months ago. Good chats are in my future.

From	To	Train	Distance Miles	Duration HH:MM
New York, NY	Washington, DC	Northeast Regional	226	3:10
Washington, DC	Charleston, SC	Palmetto	503	6:05
Charleston, SC	Savannah, GA	Palmetto	101	2:57

Breakfast Rooms

A family sits around a breakfast table in a Cleveland Holiday Inn Express talking about family things. The teenager shrugs as Mom announces she's going to redecorate his bedroom. The conversation pauses for a basketball segment on the local Fox affiliate.

A rack of USA Todays announces the next war.

Iron Road to Gotham

This week I head slowly to New York City by Amtrak. In Life, Phase 3, you don't have to rush or be perturbed by inevitable delays.

Each night I'll be in a hotel rather than a train, which gives me a chance to go walkabout in Chicago and Cleveland.

Long Trip, Light Backpack

Travel Gear: Eye-Fi Card

The best travel brings me face-to-face with the unexpected.

I try to welcome the unexpected as part of the great adventure. Something to relish, a puzzle to solve, or an opportunity to practice wisdom and move on.

With a bit of luck, I get to choose whether to make the unwelcome a positive experience, or to allow it to suck the energy out of the day. Maybe there's humor to find, lessons to learn, or a diversion to spice up an otherwise bland plan.

When our camera was stolen from our daypack in India, we both felt depressed for the rest of the morning. We had lost pictures of hikes 11,000 feet up in the Himalayas and walks around the Taj Mahal.

This led me to a solution that would prevent the loss of so many pictures again.

Kauai in a Box

A couple months ago, my partner, Dwight, announced he had some spare vacation days. That was my cue to rush to the computer and put together a trip to the island of Kauai (Hawaii) based on previous visits: Kauai in a Box.

How you approach Kauai depends on your definition of activity.

The Kauai.com list of "top activities" includes ATV rides, helicopter rides, and luaus. 

These activities don't interest us: we've done none of them on our many visits to the Hawaiian Islands.

We build our Kauai around a favorite activity: hiking. I like to feel the trail move under my feet, see the changing perspectives, hear the small sounds around me, smell the dirt, let my mind run free.

Yellow Camaro in Paradise

I don't give a toss about cars. I drive a 1997 Honda Civic as little as possible. It still hasn't clocked 80,000 miles.

In the 1980's when Dwight and I were looking for our first car together, a salesman proudly led us outside. "I have just the car for you guys."

We couldn't believe our eyes: the car was detailed like a racing car. I expected the doors to be welded shut, Dukes of Hazzard-style. This salesmen probably believes he's never talked to a homosexual.