We’re all fine now, but the holiday vacation did not play out as expected. On Nov. 27, Grandma Sue and I took a train -- the iconic California Zephyr -- from Emeryville to Truckee, our family’s gathering place in the Sierra Nevada mountains. We settled in there with half the family, and the next day, joined by friends from San Francisco, we all enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner.
On Friday, the parents of the kiddo with the lingering cough and low fever made an appointment with a pediatrician at home, and left -- two days earlier than planned. Still, Grandma Sue and I looked forward to welcoming another branch of the family, scheduled to arrive in Truckee about suppertime on Friday.
Outside was a true winter wonderland, with snow, icy roads and frigid temperatures. (Can you tell that’s not my favorite climate?) Inside, we had two comfy couches, warm blankets galore and a fridge full of leftovers. While we waited, we read the books we’d brought and also, as grandmas do, we ran the dishwasher, did laundry, made beds and cleaned out the pantry.
Our family members never made it. They left San Francisco at noon but treacherous road conditions impeded their progress once they reached the higher elevations. They called to say they were sitting in stalled traffic, hoping for the best. Then they called to say they were retreating to a nearby town for a meal. After dinner, they learned the highway to Truckee was still closed. Frustrated and exhausted, they called to say they were headed back home.
Problem-Solving Under the Influence of Tryptophan
Now we grandmas had a dilemma. We were scheduled to return home on the train, departing at 9:38 Saturday morning. Family members were not available to drive us to the station, we knew none of the neighbors and we had no car of our own. Staying wasn’t an attractive option, as the weather service had posted a new winter storm warning for Saturday afternoon, with the promise of two feet or more of fresh snow and whiteout conditions.
Grandma Sue and I are resourceful women. We’ve both traveled around the world, and coped with the many interruptions and delays that every traveler experiences. I got out my notebook, my pen and my phone and we started working on a plan.
Uber operates in Truckee, but as everywhere, only when individual drivers choose to work. That frigid Friday night, the Uber app reported “No Cars Available” and wouldn't let me book in advance. So much for Plan A. Plan B was to contact taxi companies. Plan C (I like lots of options) was to call the local hardware store, remind them our family members are good customers and flat-out beg someone to deliver us to the train station. As a last resort, I was willing to rent a car, should any still be available, and drive us home through whatever ice and snow we had to confront.
Momentary Disappointment, Followed by Joy
The answering machine at the first taxi company I called said to leave a message -- but the mailbox was full. Not a good sign. The recording for the second taxi company said it was no longer in business. We left a message with the third company, but never heard back. I called a fourth, and was instructed to try a different number, one we had already called.
When I called a number for a car service, a man answered. He said he was having dinner with friends next door, but was kind enough to return to his home office to make the booking for pick up at 8 a.m. the next day. He was in a chatty mood, and when we responded in kind, he offered to lower his usual rate for driving on icy roads to $50.
Each. That price startled us, but we wanted to go home, and decided it was worth it.
That evening, we consulted the list of chores to complete before closing up the house. Most of them were easy, but we were concerned about taking out the trash. The bear box – a locked trash cabinet that keeps bears out -- is near the bottom of the steep, ice-coated driveway. As we both are Too Old to Fall, Grandma Sue and I got permission from the family to leave the four bulging trash bags in the kitchen for pickup Monday by a cleaning service.
That night, I couldn’t get to sleep. I lay awake fretting about whether the driver would actually appear, whether we could safely walk on the slick driveway and whether the train would get over Donner Pass, which Amtrak’s website publicly admits is the trickiest mountain pass in the country. I also wondered just what I would wear if we got stuck in town for the next storm, because we’d sent our suitcases home the day before, rather than wrestle with them on the train.
A Weird Whale Tale on a Surreal Morning
The next morning, sitting in the kitchen sipping orange juice, I read this news summary from CNN on my phone: “After a man killed two people in London, bystanders attacked him with a fire extinguisher and a narwhal tusk before police arrived.”
What???
Is this fake news? I thought I had misread it, or maybe, in my fatigue, I’d slipped into an alternate reality, just west of the Twilight Zone. (Can't you just hear Rod Serling reading that summary?) Besides, I know that the sale and possession of whales’ body parts are highly regulated, and a narwhal tusk can’t be easy to come by in London. I read the story, and learned that a quick-thinking man had grabbed one of two tusks displayed at the entrance door of a business and went after the terrorist with it.
At the appointed hour, our driver arrived. He helped us into his road-worthy vehicle, navigated the slippery streets and got us to the train station at 8:30 a.m., in plenty of time for our departure. It’s cute, this train station. It looks like the miniature stations in the Lionel train sets we had as kids. But cute only gets you so far.
Though Amtrak asks passengers to arrive 45 minutes ahead of time – earlier on holidays – the station at Truckee doesn’t open until 9 a.m. The few benches outside were covered in snow or all wet. Did I mention it was 13 degrees? Carefully, Grandma Sue and I crossed the slushy street to a café, where we wrapped our freezing hands around cups of hot chocolate.
The train arrived 30 minutes late, but at last we boarded and were headed home. Seven and a half hours later, we arrived at the train station in Emeryville -- back at sea level at last. Thank goodness! Outside, I noticed three trees full of crows. Though they may have been ravens.
And what do ravens say? “Nevermore.”
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Late , very late, comment, but I enjoyed reading about your adventure!
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