A continuation of the below account of 19-20 Dec...please read that first if you expect this to make any sense...

The gorge stretches out I'd guess a mile to the other side. Pine covered hills as far as the eye can see. A mist has lowered, I can no longer see the gorge. Through the freight train passing I can catch an occasional glance at the thick fog. Annette is rambling on in a charming old lady fashion about the area and the sights.
The fog is so thick I can hardly see the bottom of the gullies.
My little old lady has rambled long past where we are and probably long after the sights will be dark. She and her friend will be detraining shortly so they will be able to catch the wouthboudn train home.
The snow on the hillside has disapeared to be replaced with pine saplings and ferns. The fog is now the cloud cover above us, with some of it still moving up the valley. There is a hing ot sunset in the clouds out ot the east . I've glimpsed it perhaps twice through the trees.
The novelty of my mode of travel is starting to wear off, mostly due to the exorbitant cost of food and in some small part to the headache that is dancing about the crown of my head. *sigh* and I've got a good five or six hours to go...
---
Food and two movies later and I am nearly there. One more stop then Tacoma. Finally had a chance to talk to (name deleted). He said he was reminded today of the need to take pleasure in the little things. Not to count the cost of small achievments that may not directly bring you to your goal. I was slightly surprised. I suppose that this is such a basic part of how I see everything that I bein to take foregranted that everyone or at least those who in geneal see things the way I do, lives the same way. If I had to explain everything that made me smile or laugh I would sound insane or completely simplistic. Sounds will make me smile, words make me laugh. The manerisms of a child, a peculiar walk, I don't even think I could find the ironies of everything that causes amusement. For example, the cafe attendent Ben came walking down the sairts after the stop in Portland and as he reached the last step, I found myself giggling. Not sure why, but I don't question it. Simplicity of heart perhaps...hopefully...
We're almost nearly there. I can't honestly say that I am tired of being on the train or fed up or frustrated about being late. I feel more like "I've been here for a while now, but that's all right, I don't mind that much." Because I don't. I'll get there eventually, if not in a little while, then a bit after that. Nothing to fret over though...
In a tunnel, the view doesn't change but the sound echos and then fades as we emerge...
---
Cab ride through the fog down familiar streets I no longer recognize.
And I am here.