We’ve temporarily swapped the RV for a locomotive and set off on the rails for a trip across the country. Welcome to the first post in a series chronicling the highlights from our rail adventure!

After roughly a year away from the home state of our families, we both decided we’d like to arrange a visit whenever possible. Since we planned to spend another winter in the Keys and were currently in New Mexico at the time, driving the RV all the way to Pennsylvania in the fall only to turn around shortly after and head as far south as the road could take us wasn’t a desirable option. Following a bit of planning, we eventually settled on driving to Waco (home to my aunt as detailed in an earlier post) and thanks to her generosity, we would park the RV there for an extended period after our short foray through western Oklahoma.

Here’s the kicker – Ashley shared our plans with her family so she could get a head start on arranging various visits, while I chose to keep our trip a secret from my family, specifically as a surprise for my parents. Yes, this required carefully crafted subterfuge and a heaping dose of luck as our train was to depart Texas and arrive in Pennsylvania just over a week before I’d possibly arrange the surprise meeting with my parents. We had plenty to do in the meantime, so the slight undercurrent of anxiety in my mind couldn’t grow into a rushing river in the weeks following the purchase of our train tickets in August.

We drove from Woodward OK to Waco TX in one day, with a lunch stop in Wichita Falls about halfway through the trip. We rolled into a public parking lot with plenty of available spaces, parked the RV, and set off on foot with the only intention of sampling the beer at Wichita Falls Brewery while deciding what to do for lunch. The town itself seemed sparsely populated – it was around 11AM on a Saturday, and I assumed we’d see more activity in the city on a weekend day. While we noticed small groups of people wandering the sidewalks, the city was mostly deserted. We shared a flight at Wichita Falls, which has a great indoor space with tons of room, but the beer was average and not something I’d recommend going out of your way to sample. The Gypsy Kit Cafe just a couple of blocks away from the brewery serves brunch on Saturday, so we decided to give it a shot based on the word around the brewery. We weren’t disappointed with our inventive taco sampler, and the bit of live music we caught at the end of the brunch service was a nice touch. If you find yourself in Wichita Falls looking for something to eat, check out Gypsy Kit. Might want to call to confirm hours though, because the website is mildly confusing to navigate and the hours posted on the Google Maps entry aren’t entirely correct.

After any possible effects from the tiny beers had worn off and our stomachs were full, we strolled back to the RV to continue the boring drive along the highway into Texas. We wanted to avoid the congestion around the Fort Worth/Dallas area, but took the wrong route out of Wichita Falls and ended up on the outskirts of Fort Worth anyway. After getting turned around on the cluster of intertwining roadways outside of town, we finally found the correct route and followed it all the way to Waco. While we prefer Google Maps for our navigation in the RV, the speed and clarity of the step-by-step directions aren’t always fast and specific enough to keep up with multiple lane changes and interstate exits in rapid succession. Not really a big deal, but a 24-foot RV certainly isn’t as nimble as a small, gas-efficient auto. We eventually rolled into Waco only about half an hour after our intended arrival, which really wasn’t bad at all.

We spent the next couple of days visiting with my aunt and preparing the RV for a much-needed rest. After cleaning the exterior, conditioning the rubber roof, installing two vent covers, sanitizing and draining the fresh water tank, spraying protectant on the tires, emptying the refrigerator, and setting the thermostat to a reasonable temperature to control humidity (thanks to the nearby 30-amp electrical outlet), we were nearly ready to catch the Amtrak train from the neighboring town of McGregor.

McGregor is a quaint small Texan town (not everything is really bigger in Texas, apparently) and we arrived early enough for breakfast and a stroll along the sidewalks. McGregor is home to Tesla’s SpaceX Rocket Development facility, for all you Elon Musk fans out there, and we were enjoying the last of our breakfast in the Coffee Shop Cafe as the facility launched a test rocket. We couldn’t see the plume due to cloud cover, but the sound waves crashed through the building and the coffee mugs hanging on the walls rattled ferociously for a solid minute. The locals seemed unphased. The food was solid down-home cooking (yes, we both finished with slices of homemade pie because why not?) and the service was friendly, the server recommending her preferred special potato preparation when I asked which style she liked (fried on the flattop with onions, for the record).

We wandered the sidewalks after parking the borrowed car in one of the four lined spaces at the train station (did I mention the town is small?) and stumbled into the local library where we found the first five books in the Foxfire collected works on sale for the affordable price of one shiny quarter apiece. We bought all five. Foxfire originally began as a student-published magazine in rural Georgia filled with recorded oral histories, traditional crafts, and nearly forgotten aspects of Appalachian life. It’s a true gem preserving important historical references and step-by-step instructions for various tasks present in everyday rural living. The first book includes a detailed guide to building a log cabin from raw trees to finished product. Maybe a project to consider down the road! McGregor is also home to the Magnolia House, one of the overnight lodging properties in the Chip and Joanna Gaines empire, so we took a peek at the outside but neglected to snap any photos. You can find plenty of them online already if you’re interested.

Arriving back at the station with an hour or so to spare, we anxiously awaited the arrival of our train. And waited. And waited. The train was ultimately delayed by two hours, but we eventually boarded without incident and set off on the 26-hour trip into Chicago. With abundant legroom and seat space, the ride was pretty comfortable considering we were essentially trapped in one place for over a day. For anyone not familiar with train travel, it’s much more laid-back than flying. Passengers are free to wander the cars at any time and the long distance routes feature a dining car with seated food service, sleeping cars for an additional charge, and a glass-encased observation car with swivel seats to take in the views along the way. Just about half of our journey was overnight, and I think this was through the most scenic part of the trip, so I didn’t catch a glimpse of all I expected. But the early morning sun lit the Mississippi River just outside of St. Louis as the tracks converged with the path of the water, melting away the remnants of a restless night attempting to sleep while partially upright in a reclining seat.

We eventually arrived in Chicago in the afternoon with a four-hour wait ahead of us for the next train to Pittsburgh. We hoped to find a little something authentic in Chicago to pass the time, and Ashley researched a few spots in advance just in case we wanted to find them during our stay. The most promising location with happy hour and personal-sized deep dish pizzas was about a mile away from the train station, but with our backpacks and my mandolin in tow we reluctantly decided not to walk quite that far for safety reasons, not out of laziness. We found a couple of bars nearby the station, which were lacking personality and completely unremarkable. Our layover in Chicago was lifeless despite the swarming mass of people rushing along the sidewalks. We’re definitely not writing off the city – we just need a better chance to explore with more intention and possibly someone who knows what to see or avoid.

The next train ride was nearly all after dark, so we tried to sleep once again through the night. I wore earplugs which definitely helped muffle the annoying sounds of other passengers’ cell phone alerts in the middle of the night but I should’ve pulled some warmer clothes from my backpack because the train car was definitely chilly. Ashley was more prepared as she slept in a knit hat and sweater. The train rolled into Pittsburgh about an hour before the sun, and our friend came zipping by the station to pick us up in the wee hours of the morning.

I’ve only been to Pittsburgh one time, and that was to celebrate Ashley’s 30th birthday for a short weekend. We attended a couple of art museums and had an excellent dinner at Salt of the Earth (now closed) during that visit, but didn’t really see much of the city. Our friends changed that, as they showed us around downtown and the various neighborhoods that comprise the greater Pittsburgh area. I was surprised to discover each neighborhood really has its own identity, while the city itself doesn’t necessarily seem overwhelming as some metropolitan areas often do. Maybe the rivers running through town help to break up what might otherwise be rampant urban sprawl. While I anticipated a lively, fulfilling weekend in the company and hospitality of our friends, I wasn’t expecting to enjoy the city quite as much as I did.

Like any major city, Pittsburgh is overflowing with restaurants, bars, breweries, museums, theaters, and practically any type of entertainment you might desire. We strolled the shops of the Strip District, taking in the sights at the fishmonger (live trout available in tanks, but no, they don’t let you fish for them yourself), sampling a mind-boggling selection of cheeses at the Pennsylvania Macaroni Company, and devouring an authentic Polish feast at S&D Polish Deli. Thanks to the generosity of our friends, we stuffed ourselves with a selection of cured meats and quality cheeses from Penn Mac back at their house later that night.

Everyone already knows I’m a sucker for good beer, especially directly from the source at a craft brewery. No, it’s neither a money-smart purchase nor a wise health-conscious choice, but craft beer is one area of life where I’m willing to splurge. While I may be normally frugal and generally Stoic in the Greek sense, I’m not a pleasure-shunning ascetic. Our weekend excursion featured quite a few breweries around the area, with each location displaying a distinct personality and offering a brief glimpse into what the surrounding community might represent.

Two favorites were Hitchhiker Brewing Company in the Brookline neighborhood and Grist House Craft Brewery in Millvale. Hitchhiker features a large, open warehouse style taproom with a long bar and tables scattered throughout – plenty of space for a relaxing pint or two with friends, and the beer is delicious. Grist House is an even more casual smaller brewery in a working-class neighborhood featuring a tightly packed taproom and an open air patio in the back. Nice place to hide out of the way and rub elbows with the locals. Ashley found a yarn store (McWalker Yarns) as we walked to Grist House and promptly added another richly-dyed hank to her collection.

A few more breweries worth mentioning are Dancing Gnome, Eleventh Hour, and Cinderlands, each with very different vibes. Cinderlands may be the fanciest of those mentioned, trending a bit towards pretentious for my taste – it’s located in the more upscale Lawrenceville neighborhood, so it definitely fits the surroundings. With a few seats in an open window bar table, you can enjoy people watching along with some inventive brews. Reading the menu also provides some entertainment because the beer descriptions are highly specific and well-written, but verging on the point of potential satire (“…evokes fresh spruce tips and lychee, leading into a bone dry, saltine cracker finish…” and “…citrusy-herbaceous melange…” are good examples of what I’m trying to express here). While I may be poking fun at the descriptions, I have a feeling they might read the same way if I wrote them for beers that I’ve brewed.

We don’t have many photos from our weekend, but I think that’s due to a conscious effort to purposefully engage in meaningful conversations and the clichéd notion of living in the present moment rather than being absentmindedly distracted by technology. As cheesy as that might sound, the essence of that statement is too important to brush aside. We specifically chose a slow, methodical mode of travel from McGregor to Pittsburgh. We don’t cram our calendars with events, choosing instead to let activities sprout organically when possible. We’ve embraced flexibility (more of a challenge for me, admittedly) rather than structured rigidity. We travel with intention and seek lasting fulfillment in daily activities, no matter how ostentatious that might seem. We really do enjoy a simple evening in someone’s home just as much – likely even more – than a night on the town.

Our next train left early Monday morning, carrying us to different locations where we’d part ways for an unspecified amount of time – the first we’d been apart for any significant duration probably since 2013. Ashley disembarked in Johnstown while I remained aboard with Elizabethtown as my destination, and what I was still counting on as the surprise visit with my parents – coming up in Part 2!