An Amtrak Transfer

In the morning of May 27 I wrote I had woken up too late to catch the earliest train to Sacramento so I took it easy until 750 and rode to Civic Center. Then I took BART to downtown Oakland. I got Blue Bottle and waited at the station.

On the train to Sacramento I stopped writing as I approached Davis. The conductor was nice but the steward wasn’t. I packed up in West Sac and there was a 10 minute delay on the I Street Bridge. I rode my bike through the platform tunnels and argued with a Sacramento Regional Transit driver. I realized later that the person I should’ve asked for a transfer was the lady on the Capitol Corridor not the Sacramento trains.

Well riding I tried to imagine how planning a trip to the foothills would work. I was troubled by the way all of my invitees had agreed to participate in a midsummer get together. I wasn’t able to do much beyond taking the weekend off for the dates to which we had agreed.

At Hazel Station I saw an interesting path. I noted that I only had three hours to enjoy myself in the town of Folsom.

I left the station looking for a bank but it took a very long time. Mostly I got lost. I did learn a bit about the area though. I stopped at a café in the historic district and had a donut when I returned.

I raced to the bike path, which was a bit confusing but I figured it out. The old rail bridge was awesome and the rise to the dam level was interesting. There were lots of hikers and at the campground at the top I finished my beverage at the snack bar by myself and got a map from the custodian. The lake was packed for Memorial Day Weekend.

Once I shored up my different needs I rode the levees to Granite Bay. I spied a few side paths with potential in Granite Bay where there were a lot less people. Along the trails I noticed that the parking was much more expanded – still a lot of barbecues but more boats far off the shore.

I headed to the side roads north of the Bay and figured out how to go to Beeks Bight. The ride was weird because Oak and Dontons Points were options but my maps indicated I didn’t want those routes. The paths were not completely marked on the maps either. However, it didn’t matter because the directions were on the road signs. The end of the road was a big parking lot surrounded by water.

I headed back as fast as possible looking in on each spot. I knew I had a limited amount of time so I tried to see if any of the adjacent neighborhoods connected. I found a spot at the horse assembly that allowed me into an adjacent neighborhood behind a fence.

My phone was dying but I had looked before so I knew it well. Exurban neighborhoods like Granite Bay are disconnected so you have to be vigilant or crafty. Sure enough, though the streets connected all the way to the other end of the neighborhood, I had clearly taken a wrong turn. I noted that the map had said Bronson dead ended but luckily I checked a couple of gates and found a fence to climb.

After that it was easy enough to find the levees near the campsite but I was still nervous about catching the train back. I zoomed down and managed to check the time before going into the 7-Eleven on Auburn Folsom Road. I even took pictures. Of course I barely made the train and though I had been trying to get a ticket, I wasn’t able to get the system to respond properly. I decided to simply get on and sit down.

The lady across from me had a bike and was going to 13th St. She warned me about the fare collector who boarded at Rancho Cordova. I noted around then that the lady sitting across from me had an Amtrak transfer. I told her I should have gotten one myself. I decided at the last second to wing it and simply scratched my expired ticket to obscure the time on it. It worked – twice. I looked at the beer in my coffee cup and felt like an outlaw.

I noted as the trip neared its destination that the train was full of talkative people. I got off at the Amtrak station and made my way to the platform. I discovered then that the train was delayed. I went into the station and they said it would be 2 1/2 hours. I was able to charge my phone then and went to a local corner store.

I met some people while waiting on the platform. One was eating tacos. I was bummed out I couldn’t have gotten my own. I boarded the train at around 830 and started writing.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.