//------------------------------// // March 22 [California] // Story: Silver Glow's Journal // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// March 22 Gusty was awake before I was. She was looking longingly out the train window at the buildings passing by. I wasn't sure what made it so special; to me it looked kind of dry and barren and the buildings weren't that much different than they had been in Oregon. Before I could wish her a good morning, she turned around and saw that I was up, and her face lit up in a broad grin. She kept her voice low to respect our sleeping companions, and started to tell me all the stuff she'd seen already, and then motioned me over to the window beside her. I flew in a short hop to avoid accidentally stepping on Aquamarine or Cayenne, and sat down next to her. She told me that she'd been awake since Sacramento, which was the capital of California. I thought that since she was up and I was up we ought to go to the Viewliner car and get a better view of California, and she agreed with me. I was a bit surprised that she hadn't just gone up on her own, but maybe she didn't want to be alone. We were just to the stairs when she remembered that she was only wearing her sleeping robe and had to go back to the room and get dressed. It seemed silly to me, and such an inconvenience to want to wear clothes all the time. Peggy was always changing from one thing to the other, too. It took her nearly forever to get dressed, 'cause she'd pick one thing and then decide that she wanted to wear something else instead, and she kept getting distracted when a building went by the window, but she finally had clothes she thought were suitable, and we went up into the Viewliner. The two of us were the first ones there, so we had our pick of seats. Gusty wanted to sit on the right side, because she said that we'd be able to see the ocean. That was something I'd been looking forward to, as well, so I took her advice. By the time we got to Martinez, Aquamarine and Cayenne and Miss Parker had joined us. Miss Parker said that Mister Barrow was back in his room making arrangements on the telephone but would be along, and if we wanted to get breakfast he wouldn’t mind. So we ate our breakfast while the train was coming up on Oakland, and were just finishing when it slowed down for the station. Alongside the tracks, there were big flags on poles, and the buildings were nicely painted. Gusty was just staring out the window, her spoonful of oatmeal hovering forgotten above her bowl. The conductor announced that the train would be stopping for ten minutes in Oakland, and Gusty dropped her spoon, said that she was done, and rushed down to the door. Miss Parker shook her head and asked if one of us wanted to join her. I was done with my breakfast, so I said that I would, and hurried down to find her, just in case she tried something dumb like jumping off the train while it was still moving. She waited, but she almost crowded the conductor out of his position. She had her hooves up on the door when I got down the stairs and the conductor sort of pushed her back, so she just went to the other side and stared through the window. When he finally got the door open and the little stepstool down, she hopped right off it and started dancing around on the platform, which of course made a bunch of people stare at her, but it was obvious she didn't care. She wrapped her hooves around me and kissed me on the cheek and said that being in California was the most wonderful thing ever, and her mood kind of rubbed off on me a bit, so pretty soon she was cantering up and down the platform while I flew overhead, keeping pace with her. It was warmer than anywhere we'd been yet, and I could smell the salt air. Seagulls were perched on lightposts and the edges of roofs, and they'd fly off when I got close and then circle back in case I'd accidentally dropped some food. Seagulls are weird like that. The ones who live close to land get really fat and lazy. The two of us had made quite a spectacle of ourselves by the time we got back aboard the train. I noticed that Cayenne was watching from inside the car, but she didn't dare show her face on the platform while we were fooling around like a couple of schoolfillies. We'd both hoped that we'd be along the coast from now on—we were so close!—but the train went back inland instead, and we were treated to dirt-covered hills instead. They were kind of pretty, but not in the same way that Washington and Oregon had been. It was the kind of stark beauty that was nice to look at but why would anyone want to live there? As we got further south, it got greener and the hills got further back (and they got greener, too). Then it got kind of dry again, and we went up into hills. We'd taken up seats on both sides of the car, so that we could go back and forth and look at the scenery on either side.  That had been Mister Barrow’s idea. I was glad we did. We went up into the hills and the highway that ran alongside us didn't, and it almost felt like we were flying. Unlike in the Space Needle, Gusty stuck her muzzle right up to the window and took in the scenery. I guess it made a difference to her that the train was only two stories tall. The train went around a really sharp curve which the conductor said was called Horseshoe Curve. Cayenne laughed at the name, and then we all looked out the window at the front of our train making the curve. I could tell that they were using some kind of artificial irrigation on the fields around their buildings, because those were a nice vibrant green and everything else was desert-y. Aquamarine said that it was kind of a waste, since humans couldn't eat grass. They'd do better to use the water on useful crops, rather than something decorative. When we got out of San Luis Obispo, Mister Barrow told us that we'd be able to see the Pacific soon but he'd been saying that for a while, and I think Gusty was starting to not believe him any more. But then I saw off in the distance how it looked like the land was falling away, and I wished that the train windows could be opened, 'cause I know I would have smelled it. The Pacific is gorgeous, and it only got more beautiful the closer we got. All of us had abandoned our chairs and just had our noses up to the window. I was starting to think that maybe Gusty was right about California after all. It hadn't seemed all that special before, but now that I was seeing what it had to offer, I was really liking it.  We went along coastal bluffs and the track curved along to stay close to the shore. We had to wait for a while just after we left Santa Barbara. There was something wrong on the tracks up ahead was what the conductor said, but he didn’t say what it was.  Sometimes cows and stuff will wander onto the tracks and then the train has to wait until they move, so it was probably something like that.. I didn't mind all that much. We took the opportunity to eat dinner by ourselves. Miss Parker and Mister Barrow stayed in the Viewliner so that nobody would take our seats, which was really nice of them. The train started moving while we had dessert, and it was kind of slow at first, but then it picked up speed again.  After we’d been going for a little while, we passed a different Amtrak train that was sitting on a side track; Mister Barrow said that was the Surfliner. We had the best view ever for the sunset. The train was nearly on the beach, and all of us watched in awe as the sun touched the ocean and then sank below.  Everybody in the car was completely silent until the sun was all the way gone. Just after that, the train turned inland, and as it got dark we went through bigger and bigger cities.  Gusty didn’t want to leave the Viewliner to pack up her stuff, so Cayenne said that she’d do it for her, and Gusty gave her a great big hug and then just went back to looking out the window in wide-eyed wonder at all the buildings and lights of California.