I'm checking Amtrak train status as I wait for my plane home. The train I was supposed to be on, No. 8 of March 19, lost more than six hours before entering Montana. How will it do the rest of the way to Milwaukee? Well, I suppose that doesn't matter to me anymore, account of my arrival at the airport today. But that's still better than No. 18 of March 17, which is limping along through North Dakota today more than 40 hours late. Certainly the crews deserve recognition for keeping the faith and forging on, but I'm quite happy with my choice to fly today.
While I won't experience the majesty of Montana's Marias Pass or the solitude of the North Dakota prairies this week, there's still a chance that I will in the future. I'm just not sure when that will be.
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