Traveling up, via the train
The Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill, passed and signed by President Biden on Friday, includes a $66 billion investment in passenger and freight rail. I think this investment is quite worthwhile, as I believe, like the President himself does, that taking the train is probably the best way to cover long distances. No mode of transportation better lets a traveler appreciate the pastoral Atlantic coast scenes than the great northeastern rail, which I had the distinct pleasure of riding up and down this weekend and for which I will forever go to bat in the future.
The U.S. is a notoriously car dependent country. There’s an entire subsection of YouTube videos that tear the near continuous suburban sprawl of America to pieces, a genre of content I enjoy watching very much. The train, in that sense, feels somewhat counter-culture. Even though passenger train travel has existed for far longer than the car has, and even though such a mode of transportation has inevitably serviced millions more individuals throughout its history, the train’s diminution as the main way to get around vast swathes of the country makes the whole experience much more uplifting, like you’re actively participating in the underdog’s victory.
And, in most scenarios and depending on the infrastructure, train travel has a lot greener of an environmental footprint — nearly half that of airplane travel over comparable distances. Of course, efficiency is always a consideration, but enjoying pastoral landscapes and halving your carbon footprint seems sure to be a worthwhile trade-off for an extra two days or so of travel. And that’s not to mention the cost and the overall hassle of airport navigation.
All of this goes to support the fact that my trip up the Atlantic coast on the northeast regional Amtrak route from New York City to Boston was one of the most wonderful four-and-a-half hours of my life. Leaving the Big Apple at around 1:30 p.m., I arrived in Boston at approximately 5:45. Over this stretch of time, the train covered about 230 miles, making stops in Bridgeport, New Haven, Providence, and of course and finally, Boston. As the rail stretched farther and farther north, the sun sank lower and lower over the Atlantic in the east. A golden hue unraveled over the waves and the picturesque seaside villages and ports. The autumn foliage of the coastal forests majestically reflected the rays of sunlight. The climate was perfect.
Inside the train I managed to do a little bit of everything. I read a couple of chapters of my most recent novel, I texted back and forth with family and friends, I read an excellent article, I called my lovely sister, and I listened to a few podcasts and some new albums while staring out over the coastal vistas. All throughout the journey I retrieved my phone and snapped photos of particularly gorgeous displays (several of which can be seen in the Photography section of this very site). Each new cove we passed, each reflection of the sun on the ocean, brought me such immense joy that I couldn’t help but capture it whatever way possible.
The train ride felt, quite literally, like poetry in motion. At certain points I tried to take a step back and picture myself in third person, once removed, a way to capture the beauty I was feeling much like a director would capture the perfect shot in a film. I imagined that if I could hold onto those vivid images, I could likewise hold onto those beautiful feelings. The combination of the pictures that I took and this third person self-reflection have helped me to do just that. Now, when I go back and look at the photos of the golden Atlantic, or listen to the electronic harmonies of J Dilla’s “Donuts,” I know that I will always be transported back to those consequential moments in time where I was well and truly at peace, watching the sun set and knowing that some moments in life simply are special.
So, thank you Joe Biden for investing in an experience that has given and will continue to give me, you, and countless others boundless joy. May the train continue to sweep our collective imagination away with the cascading Atlantic tide.
