When I found out the Amtrak train we'd be taking to Chicago would be pulling out of Toledo at 8:15 p.m., I was hoping we'd get one of those double-deck, curtained berths like the ones in the old Marx Brothers movies.
No such luck, though. I discovered that such cozy overnight rail accommodations don't even exist any more, at least not in this country. And their modern-day equivalent - small compartments where cot-sized beds can be folded out of the walls - weren't available on this particular train, either. So it would be coach seats for us that night.
But that was OK. It would actually make for a fairer comparison with the mode of transportation we'd be using for our return trip from Chicago - a Greyhound bus.
This whole purpose of this trip was to check out a couple of the alternate means of travel that have become more popular in the weeks and months following the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11. Ridership on both trains and buses increased sharply right after the attacks, but spokesmen for both Amtrak and Greyhound report that business has since subsided to near-normal levels.
Some travelers are still uneasy about flying, however, while others don't want to deal with the sometimes lengthy delays caused by increased airport security.
Chicago was an arbitrary destination, and it limited the options as far as train departure times from Toledo. The only Chicago-bound Amtrak trains that leave from Toledo most days are at 7:30 a.m. and 8:15 p.m. (There are, however, other options out of Ann Arbor, Mich.)
One immediately noticeable difference between flying and taking the train is that rail travelers are advised to arrive at the Amtrak station a mere 10 or 15 minutes before scheduled departure time to pick up their tickets. There is also free parking available right outside the station, located on Emerald Avenue south of downtown Toledo.
As far as pre-departure security goes on Amtrak, there isn't much. Photo IDs are required to pick up tickets, but nobody screens or searches luggage. Every bag is a carry-on, and they can be stowed in spaces at the end of each car, or in open racks above the seats.
Amtrak spokesman Frank Stoy said there is increased “behind the scenes” security since Sept. 11, but he declined to provide details.
The passenger coach we boarded was less than half full, and it looked like the first-class section of an airliner, with double rows of wide seats on either side of a spacious aisle. The seatbacks recline, and the lower portion of each seat can be raised to make it into a veritable La-Z-Boy. And each two-seat section can be swiveled around and locked into position facing the seats behind it, a handy feature for families or friends traveling together.
We pulled out of the station close to the scheduled departure time, and it wasn't long before Todd, an Amtrak attendant, came walking down the aisle. Nattily attired in a crisp white shirt, tie, and vest, he looked to be the picture of serious efficiency, but turned out to be part Cub Scout pack leader and part stand-up comic.
When a passenger complained that the reading light over his seat didn't work, Todd gave him a stern look, and after fiddling with the light for a moment, he walked to an unoccupied seat, removed the bulb from its reading light, and swapped it for the nonworking one. Problem solved.
“Let's see 'em do that on an airliner,” Todd said.
The ride on a train is not as smooth as that of a car, or even an airliner. There's occasional jostling as the train rolls along at close to 80 mph, but it doesn't produce queasiness because it's all rocking, with no up-and-down movement.
Our train had a “caf car” with a small snack bar and several booths where passengers could eat, visit, or play cards as the train rolled through the night. Cocktails were available, at a somewhat inflated price.
We couldn't see much of the passing scenery in the darkness outside, but once in awhile a train would pass us headed in the other direction and we'd hear a horn and a loud whoosh as it flashed by in the night.
More than once our train would pull over on a siding and wait for a freight train to pass by. Once a young passenger asked Todd what the delay was, and with a wink he replied, “Actually, we have a flat and we're waiting for AAA to get here.”
Asked the same question later, as he was handing out pillows, Todd turned serious, explaining that delays caused by freight trains are one of the biggest gripes from Amtrak passengers. The freight lines own the tracks and allow Amtrak to use them in exchange for a fee, he said.
“They're supposed to give us the right-of-way, and they can be fined up to $2,000 for delaying a passenger train,” Todd said. “But if they have a $60,000 load, they're going to just bite the $2,000 fine and let us sit. They don't care when you get to Chicago.”
Larry and Teryl Hatcher of Maumee are veteran Amtrak riders - they've journeyed across the country, from Utah to Vermont, on trains - and were headed for Chicago with their two children, Tim, 14, and Shannon, 11.
Mrs. Hatcher said they got a bargain-basement price on their tickets - bought on the Internet, they were $6.30 apiece for the Toledo-to-Chicago segment - but they would have ridden the train even at full price.
“We take the train a lot,” added Mr. Hatcher. “You don't have to go through all the security rigamarole, and riding the train forces you to sit back and relax, maybe read a book or visit with people.”
As much as his family travels by train, he said, they'd probably do it even more if there were increased options available.
“I feel the country needs this type of transport, but instead they pour money into highways,” Mr. Hatcher said. “Every other modernized country has a better rail system, some with high-speed rail. If we ever had that, you could get from place to place a lot faster that you do now driving.”
Like the airlines, Amtrak builds extra time into its schedule to allow for delays, and we'd been told we'd probably be into Chicago well before midnight instead of the 12:30 a.m. time on the schedule. But because of the freight train delays, the actual arrival time at Chicago's Union Station was almost 12:45 a.m. Central time, a good 51/2 hours after pulling out of Toledo. The station was nearly empty, and we were shooed out by police, who were trying to close the place for the night.
When it came time for our bus trip back to Toledo a couple of days later, the downtown Chicago Greyhound station was anything but empty. Hundreds of people stood in line waiting to pass through gates for their buses as security workers did random checks of some riders' luggage before stowing the bags in big compartments underneath the buses. The bags chosen weren't X-rayed, but workers would reach into them and grope around blindly for a few seconds before moving on to another one. Our bags weren't searched.
Aboard the bus, there are no reserved seats, and passengers have to grab a spot wherever they can. The seats are smallish, and there's less legroom on a bus than in the coach section of an airplane - and no emergency exit rows or bulkhead seats, which savvy fliers traditionally request to capture a bit more legroom.
The driver announced that no liquor is allowed on the bus, and no smoking either - especially in the tiny restroom at the back, apparently a favorite spot for cigarette scofflaws - but he added that we'd be making enough stops to satisfy all but the most nicotine-deprived passengers.
Then, at about 11:45 a.m., we were under way, rolling slowly through residential neighborhoods with block after block of closely spaced brick bungalows. We made a quick stop on the South Side, then got on the Chicago Skyway, which would deposit us in Indiana in the early stages of our 5-hour, 45-minute trip back to Toledo.
Cruising along high above the traffic at 70 mph with the big wheels humming smoothly below us, it was easy to imagine we were once again riding the train, as trees, fields, and buildings flashed by under gray skies. But on the bus, there was no caf car to visit.
“You've got to remember to bring stuff along or you end up eating junk you buy along the way at the places they stop,” explained Mary Elizabeth Johnson, who was making a marathon bus journey with her three children, all of whom were slumped in seats around her playing video games or trying to sleep.
The Johnsons had left home in Great Falls, Mont., nearly 48 hours earlier and were on their way to meet her husband at an Air Force base in North Carolina. The entire 2,400-mile odyssey would take them close to 72 hours.
How many stops had they made since leaving Montana?
“About a kajillion,” Mrs. Johnson answered wearily. Some of the layovers along the way had been as long as 90 minutes, she added, but it would be even worse on the trip home. The Chicago layover alone would be six hours, she said.
“You know any good places to take the kids for a few hours in Chicago?” she asked.
Less than an hour out of Chicago, we stopped in Hammond, Ind., for a quick restroom and smoke break. About 21/2 hours later there was a 30-minute meal stop at a toll road service plaza in Elkhart, Ind.
That was our last scheduled stop before Toledo, but soon after crossing into Ohio, the driver keyed his microphone. “We're doing pretty good on time,” he said, “so in a little while maybe we'll make another stop for a smoke break.” When he pulled into an Ohio Turnpike service plaza, he made another announcement.
“This will be a 10-minute smoke break,” he said. “That's not 101/2 minutes, not 11 minutes.” This was a pointed reference to a female passenger who had delayed the bus at its last stop when she didn't extinguish her cigarette and return to the vehicle at the appointed time.
Smoke breaks and all, we rolled into Toledo's Jefferson Avenue Greyhound station within a few minutes of our scheduled 6:30 p.m. arrival time. As we got up to exit the bus, I told Mrs. Johnson I hoped the rest of her trip would be pleasant.
Stretching her arms high above her head, she smiled thinly. “I hope my husband appreciates this,” she said.
First Published December 15, 2001, 3:38 p.m.
