Window View
by Kim Hall
Salem, Oregon
I boarded the 8:30 morning train leaving Klamath Falls headed to Salem. Stepping onto the train with my black bag containing a few personal items, I looked for a seat next to a window. Several passengers had boarded the train with me and seats were running out, so I quickly took a nearby seat which proved to be a wise choice, as it gave me a fantastic view from the left side of the train. With all the rain and snow the Cascades had been receiving, I was certain I was going to be in for a treat from my window seat.
Once the train pulled out of Klamath Falls and began it’s journey, Klamath Lake was the first of many treasures along the way. I was mesmerized by the beauty from my window. The lake was calm but frigid looking. The birds seemed to be mesmerized as well, as they drifted restlessly in the still blue-gray waters. Once past the lake, farms and ranches were spread out in the fields of snow. Several of the homes were very extravagant, but most were weathered and ran down. One of the farm fields had a graveyard of broken down vehicles and farm equipment. I wondered if this equipment would for ever litter that small piece of land.
The train made it’s first stop in Chemult where two passengers were waiting to board the train. A van with “Redmond Amtrak Shuttle” painted on the side was parked in the plowed parking lot. A man with a nicely trimmed beard, dressed in brown coveralls and a gray stocking cap, passed by my seat with his bags in hand. As I looked out the window, this man left the train and the driver of the van took his bags and they drove off down the narrow lane of packed snow.
As the train rolled and swayed down the tracks, the snow deepened and the brightness of the snow changed to the familiar phrase, “As White As Snow”. I could see Highway 97 in the distance, but as the train began to enter the mountains, the highway could no longer be seen and a river replaced it winding in and out of view. At times the river would completely disappear under a fluffy white blanket of snow and then reappear in full force, raging with dirty brown water over the hidden rocks under it’s path.
Higher up in the mountains, a post stood straight and narrow in a snow bank. The snow was up to the number 6, indicating the depth of the snow. As the mountain became steeper on the side of the tracks, waterfalls of great shapes and sizes appeared out my window. No one on the train seemed to be looking out the windows but me. It was all I could do not to shout, “Look what you people are missing!” There were to many waterfalls to described but my favorite was nearly thirty feet wide and as tall as the mountain it’s self. The water came cascading down with white ripples, yet I could see through the water to the mosey green rocks that were part of the mountain.
As the train moved along, the deep snow laid across the forest floor hiding beneath it rocks, logs and brush. The limbs of the trees hung heavy with snow sparkling from their branches. Now and then, small animal tracks would meander through the forest and disappear with no sign of the life that left the trail through the snow. The rolling carpet of white snow would suddenly disappear and in it’s place a deep pool of dark blue water would sit as the reflection of the train could be seen rolling by.
For many miles the train would enter in and out of tunnels. As we neared Oakridge, the scenery became breath taking. Suddenly, we were on a bridge going over Highway 58 as the creek ran beside the highway. The creek was wide and roaring and it disappeared as we entered a deeper part of the forest. Smaller creeks sprung up from every where . Waterfalls, walking paths and footbridges appeared. Further down the track, houses and shops lined both sides of the track. I saw a building with Oakridge Museum painted on the side. Further north of Oakridge, I saw a sign that read “Buckhead Wildlife Area”. The train began to slow and we stopped outside of town. An Amtrak person could be seen walking along the side of the train, looking under the train, for what I did not know. It was getting dusk and I was anxious for the train to start the journey again so I wouldn’t loose any of the sites to darkness.
When the train began moving again, the creek roared beside the train until we approached the reservoir near Dexter. Highway 58 could be seen outside my window and the view now seemed to be best on the right side of the track as the large body of water stretched as far as I could see.
Somewhere near 5:30, darkness set in and the interior lights of the train came on, making it impossible to see outside the window. Two hours later, at 7:30 p.m., I stepped off of the train in Salem wishing I could take the exact same journey again the following day, but this time, seated on the right side of the train to see what wonders lay outside of it’s window.
