After much thought I finally worked out the right soundtrack to match the incredible scenery I'm witnessing through the Rockys. Sitting in the observation car, with a surprise lack of Eagles on my Zen, I remembered the good old Lynyrd Skynyrd, which suited perfectly. The whole trip so far seems to have lacked chronological sequence, so I can't even begin to construct a realistic narrative. I will, however, just keep writing. Before Jane got off at Denver, she gave me the latest Clarkson book to read, which was jolyl nice. I got her email as she may end up in San Fran on Monday.
I barely slept last night but I dosed in happy peace and somewhat meditively with The Postal Service gently drumming out simple sorrows. Wade slept in the Lounge car, which I was secretly glad of as I'd grown a bit tired of him and didn't quite trust in what he said. We hit the Rockys early in the day and so I've spent a good majority of my time up here. Met a guy from Cornwall and two nice women, Jane and Lydia, and we chatted about the scenery, from huge rocky mountains to gorges, rivers and streams. Many bald eagles and one or two deer were also spotted along the way.
I had a good, though slightly hard to escape from, chat with the cafe/bar man about Germany, the price of McDonalds in various countries and the such like. My diet of ceral bars is near excellent, though closer to worryingly nutritionally unbalanced.
We reach Grand Central, which is Wade's stop in 1 hour 30.
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