After a couple of enjoyable days in Denver catching up with friends, it was time for the main event. Malvin and I were completing our journey on the California Zephyr, this leg being 33-hours from Denver to the terminus at Emeryville, just across the bay from San Francisco. Along the way, the train passes through Colorado, Utah and Nevada, with the stretch from Denver to Salt Lake City passing through the Rocky Mountains, offering--according to gushing accounts on Reddit--some of the most beautiful scenery one can experience from an Amtrak train.

We are not the only ones to have gotten the intel. The train is fully booked, and upon dropping off our bags at our seats, Malvin and I rush to the observation car, only to find it already packed, well before the train has begun moving. We take our seat at a four-top table with a polite man from Chicago, who has the unusual tendency to state what he thinks we are thinking. But that’s OK - we’re simply grateful to have one of the better seats in the house to enjoy the scenery.











The Aspens in fall were a highlight of our Rocky Mountain passage


The tour does not disappoint. Not long after leaving the Denver metropole, we begin winding through stunning alpine mountain ranges, with groves of Aspen trees turning fall yellow. There are some “oohs” and “ahhs” from others in the observation car, and best of all, we receive running commentary from an Amtrak conductor over the loudspeakers, pointing out notable landmarks or tunnel passages. It feels like we’re on a guided tour, as opposed to just a regular transit train, which I suppose we are. As we pass along the Colorado river, we get ‘mooned’ by various groups of kayakers on the water --apparently a tradition--and we laugh and cheer. Over the speakers, our affable guide mentions how once along this route, a large group of elderly ladies riding the train decided to moon them back.


Enjoying the passage alongside the Colorado River, mooning kayakers included


“Out of all of us, I wonder who’s going to moon them back today?” quips Dave, who I would later discover is a dedicated train nut. Sadly, none of us took him up on the challenge. Instead we observed the gradually changing landscape, as we traveled along Western Colorado and into Utah, with its own gorgeous mix of rocky reddish buttes and mountains.


Aside from the scenery, we enjoy the friendly, casual atmosphere of the observation car too. We meet Caitlyn and Jessica, two fellow Chinese-Americans who invite us to play some Chinese poker with them. As with other travelers, we find out that they're working remotely from the train, making do with spotty hotspot connections, part of our new work-from-anywhere world. In the seats next to us, an older Mormon farmer—on his way back home—strikes up a conversation with Yoni—a recycling tech entrepreneur from Brooklyn. I overhear them discussing the science of genetically modified food, and a shared passion for growing plants.

 

The mountain scenery became starker--though no less beautiful--as we crossed from Colorado into Utah


We enjoy ourselves so much in the observation car, gazing upon the evolving scenery as the sun sets, that we end up spending all day there. After a dinner of bread rolls from Safeway (we’d come prepared), the car had emptied out, and we struck up a conversation with some of the other hangers on: Yoni, the recycling tech entrepreneur, his travel buddy Rain, and Dave, the comedian from earlier that day. It turns out that Rain and Dave are self-described “foamers” (basically, extreme train enthusiasts)—so-called because they ‘foam at the mouth’ when they see a train. This is a community I was unfamiliar with beforehand. I also discover that Malvin and I both share an interest in sub-cultures, in understanding people’s passions. We take turns peppering Rain and Dave for the next hour with endless questions about their shared passion.


It turns out, at least according to Dave, that foamers can be an extreme bunch. Apparently, they may overlap with but are distinct from model train set builders. Foamers will typically go to great lengths to photograph or videotape passing trains from just the right angle. Beyond trains, some are also into buses. Some have gone as far as to impersonate subway drivers and drive the routes themselves. Some harbor a deep desire to work in the industry (e.g. as train operators). In his experience, foamers are more likely to be on the autism spectrum or disabled. Dave himself volunteers on the weekends at a train museum in Pennsylvania some distance from his home and manages several foamer Facebook forums. He has an incredibly detailed knowledge of various train engine models and their names.


While I doubt I’ll ever develop an interest in train model details, I also think trains are pretty cool. There’s something reassuring and comforting about their fixed path and consistency. I certainly don’t think there’s anything worse about being a foamer than, say, a rabid NBA basketball enthusiast (one of my own passions). However, I imagine there’s something quite self-selecting about having such a niche interest, and the sort of community it fosters.


The next day we passed through the Sierra Nevada in eastern California

I went to bed in Utah some time after Salt Lake City, and woke up around Reno, having passed through most of Nevada in the dark. The second day's scenery was also gorgeous, if slightly less spectacular, featuring deep blue lakes near Tahoe. Malvin alighted in Sacramento to do some California road tripping on his own (we met up in San Francisco a few days later), and the train finally reached its endpoint in style, slowly circling the San Francisco Bay. I was almost sad that such a memorable ride was over. Many of us took the short Amtrak bus from Emeryville across the Bay bridge into San Francisco.


“Where are you going?,” Dave asked, after we'd gotten off the bus. “We’re taking the rail to Fisherman’s Wharf.”


“I’m taking a Lyft to my buddy’s house,” I replied. 


He seemed a little disappointed. Why skip out on more trains?