Today the Electronic Nomad is working form a perch above the Ashland Meat Company @ Cross Brothers Grocery. I have a brilliant view of the tracks along Railroad Avenue. My eyes and ears enjoy the sounds of each passing Amtrak and CSX train, and my stomach growls as I think about the sandwiches they are fixing downstairs, and the Baltimore & Ohio Roast Chicken they’re cooking across the street at the Iron Horse Restaurant.
The next time you’re tooling down I-95 between DC and Richmond, get off at Exit 92, head west to Railroad Avenue, turn left and park. Have a meal. Spend a few hours here. Spend a day. I guarantee you will be glad you did.
Early Sunday morning in November on Santa Fe Avenue in La Junta, Colorado. I have only stepped off the train for a moment, and had to capture this.
I love train travel like no other means of transportation. As I get older, though, I find myself wanting to stop and spend more time in the places I pass through.
In the introduction to Desert Solitaire, Edward Abbey opines that in some places time passes slowly, and that all time should. I suppose that is why I find myself of late drawn to places where the hours meander languorously rather than sprint furtively.
I will be back to the high plains of Eastern Colorado, I know, but at some point I’d like to come in my truck and stay awhile. I’ll bet the biscuits are warm and flaky at the Copper Kitchen, that the espresso and banana bread a delight at The Barista, and that there are delightful folks here as well.
Starting the week with a nice view and a cold brew coffee. Now if only someone would open the door…
Inside of Portland’s old-school railway beauty. The Amtrak service here is unbelievably good.
Drinking my lunch: a cup of fresh brewed drip coffee at Stumptown Roasters and a protein shake.
The protein-caffeine mix is my substitute for carbs.
Stumptown Roasters: beauty in a cup.
I walk in the door and I am in a cathedral dedicated to bibliophiles.
Did I leave with a couple of books?
Yes: 35 of them, plus a t-shirt.
Word of advice: when you come here, bring a list. It is the only hope you will have to avoid a special kind of catatonia that comes when the senses and mind are utterly overwhelmed.