lonelyplanet

the Sightseer Lounge.

Entry 16
7:45, 4 March
I'm looking at Rocky the Goat. Although really an antelope, Rocky was the mascot of the Great Northern Railroad which once ran this line. Waving a jaunty cloven hoof, starting in 1921 he urged passengers to delight in the Empire Builder while urging shippers to send there goods by rail. The vintage Whitefish train station has a big statue of Rocky out front, although in the general bustle, few are pausing to admire his bearded visage. Lots of people are boarding and exiting the train here (flying and driving to this rugged part of the state is a hassle) and I say goodbye to Kaylie. Skis emerge from the baggage car by the dozen: popular resorts are found in the surrounding hills; nearby Glacier National Park draws tourists through the year.
- Ryan Ver Berkmoes

Unloading skis at Whitefish.

Rocky the Goat statue in front of Whitefish station.

Platform at Whitefish.

Platform at Whitefish.

Entry 15
7:00, 4 March
The cheery Brett greets me in the diner, which bustles with people chasing the sleep out of their eyes with liberal doses of coffee, OJ and more. I'm ready to order the pancakes right up until I see the corned beef hash. I love corned beef hash and not being distracted by too many synonyms for the dish, I order it. While I munch away, the couple across from me talk about the possums and skunks that have colonized their barn in rural Oregon. Looking at the show-drifted scenes outside, I reckon the local varmints would be pretty jealous of their Oregon cousins.
- Ryan Ver Berkmoes

The view outside the diner.

Corned beef hash in the diner.

Breakfast time in the diner.

Entry 14
6:45, 4 March
I smell pancakes. I love pancakes. I look out to the corridor to see an attendant scurry past with a stack of plates covered with pancakes. Turns out you can eat in your compartment, with food from the dining car delivered to a table next to your bed. I am tempted while I ruminate over all the names for pancakes: flapjacks, hotcakes, johnnycakes etc. But I'm ready to roam away from my roomette so I set off for the diner.
- Ryan Ver Berkmoes

Entry 13
6:00, 4 March
I've gotten a lot younger. So young in fact that I seem to be about 1, at least that's my last memory before I awake. My cozy roomette and the rocking of the train have induced me to dream of being an infant in my crib. Fortunately I'm not drooling or having any other baby-related function-control problems. I want to roll over and see if I can relive another part of my past life but I can't help but part the curtains for a look at the wilds of western Montana. It's dawn over a stark landscape of untrod white valleys and moody dark peaks. Who can sleep? I get coffee from the fresh pot down the corridor and get mesmerized by the view.
- Ryan Ver Berkmoes

Dawn in western Montana.

Entry 12
Midnight, 3-4 March
I'm snug in my roomette but can't resist the pull of the platforms in Spokane. The Empire Builder pauses here to connect with the portion of the train that comes from Portland, Oregon. The downtown lights of this city in eastern Washington gleam off the cars while a few of us get in a last stroll in the brisk air. Soon we're off and I'm curled up in my bed, warm under a wool blanket, my book clasped in my hand while snowflakes dance past my windows. We're still on time but tomorrow comes Montana, and its snow-blotted expanse.
- Ryan Ver Berkmoes

Pausing in Spokane.