Amtrak Coast Starlight: Book It!

Riding the Amtrak Coast Starlight overnight train from Portland to Los Angeles has been a bucket list goal of mine. When I retired this year, I decided to make this dream come true.

I booked my train ticket in January, four months before my trip. I paid $198 for the coach fare and $273 for the roomette (total $471). Now, I definitely could have flown to Los Angeles for about $300 less, but I wouldn’t have had the experience of watching my train slowly move down the West Coast for 32 hours.

“From the striking snow-clad summits of the Cascade Range to the expansive stretches of the Pacific Ocean coastline, the observation car offers a magnificent panorama.”—Amtrak

If you purchase a roomette or bedroom on Amtrak, all your meals are complimentary, including one free cocktail at dinner. On my two-day journey, I was fed two lunches, two dinners, and one breakfast, for a total cost of $90.

Portland

I flew to Portland on Friday afternoon, and my train left Portland’s Union Station at 2:22 p.m. on Saturday. The best part of Portland is walking around the city to admire its 19th-century architecture. I stayed at the historic Mark Spencer Hotel.

My excitement built on Saturday afternoon as I dragged my suitcase across town to Union Station. This would be my first overnight journey on a train.

Lounge Access

On arrival at Union Station, I was admitted to the special lounge for customers who purchased an overnight train or were traveling business class.

I loved sitting in the lounge, looking at the vintage Oregon train poster and contemplating the trip ahead. As everyone knows, anticipation of a vacation may be more thrilling than the actual vacation.

Amtrak Coast Starlight Departure

At 2 p.m., we were instructed to go outside and board our train. My attendant took a photo of me beside the train. I stayed in Car 1130 (Room 2) on the sleeper train.

My next 30 hours would be (partially) spent in a cozy cubicle with two seats that could turn into a single bed at night. If I had traveled with another person, our attendant would have pulled down the upper bunk bed.

After depositing my suitcase in my roomette, I was sent down to the dining room for lunch. A fellow traveler joined me at the table. (There are no private tables in the Amtrak dining car; you will be seated with strangers.) He was also retired. He flew up to Portland to take the Coast Starlight. We ate our sandwiches and talked excitedly about what we expected to see on this journey. We both ordered a cocktail to toast our adventure.

Zen “Train Time”

As our train rumbled out of the station, we crossed a bridge (click link to see YouTube video). I looked down at the river, marveling at its glassy surface. In the distance, two skyscrapers stood as sentinels. A man wearing a hooded jacket sauntered on the pedestrian walkway. Billowing white clouds spread across the blue sky.

“Clack. Clack. Clack.”

I watched a bicyclist race across the bridge. After less than 60 seconds, we approached the other end of the bridge. I had physically crossed a city boundary, but I also emotionally distanced myself from my land-based self.

I had been told about the zen feeling of switching to “train time.” This means that you let go of the typical preoccupations of home. It happened in less than 30 minutes after I boarded my train.

Panoramic Views

After lunch, I headed to the observation car to watch the scenery fly by me. The panoramic windows offer sweeping views of the world outside my window. Except for taking photos and texting to my family, I just sat and watched Oregon’s landscape fly by my window. I loved snapping photos of town signs as they flew by, such as Salem, Albany, and Eugene.

Early in my journey, the landscape featured rolling fields. The blue hue of the mountains contrasted with the vivid green.

Fresh Air Breaks

Around 5 p.m., we stopped for a “fresh air” break, which typically lasted 20 minutes. I usually stepped off the train to vigorously walk up and down the sidewalk near the train tracks and take photos of the town’s train stations. The conductor would shout, “All aboard!” when it was time to get back on the train.

I moved to my roomette around 5:45 p.m. so I could relax with my feet up on the seat. I propped up my legs with my carry-on suitcase. This time before dinner would be the most extraordinary section of my train trip in Oregon!

Nature!

Our train crossed over a river. Fir trees loomed large on the banks. Fluffy clouds danced lazily in the blue sky, and my brain floated like a cloud. This sensation of awe recalled poet William Wordsworth’s poem about daffodils:

I wandered lonely as a cloud that floats on high o’er vales and hills.”—William Wordsworth

I also enjoyed the segments when our train’s path paralleled the two-lane country lanes. My brain could follow “life outside,” yet I knew that I existed in a train bubble. I felt like the “celestial eyes” on the cover F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. This illustration depicts a disembodied face with giant luminous eyes floating above a cityscape.

Big Red Barn

My biggest excitement occurred around 5:45 p.m. when I saw a big red barn. I could barely photograph this sight before the bucolic scene disappeared from my view. Imagine if I had sat in that field painting this idyllic pastoral scene?

My mind’s eye sketched the elements—fat bushes, leaning-over firs, a grey-blue sky, and a big red barn. Who lived in this remote spot? Did they hear the train ride through their tiny town each evening as they sat down to dinner?

The train lumbered forward as we chased the stormy clouds. Then I saw ahead two elegant equines—a white horse and two dappled brown and white mares—prancing in the field. I wanted to reach out my window and hand them a carrot to eat. Time stood still as the horses grazed in their paddock. Seeing the farm animals on my train trip would give me joy.

I think I lost time over the next two hours before dinner. Watching the scene outside my window as the train flew down the track produced blurry pictures in my mind, especially the needles of the fir trees that brushed the train windows.

Cascade Range

The blue-tinged Cascade Range (which stretches from British Columbia to northern California) hid behind the grove of fir trees, then reappeared for me to view. I was bewitched by its jagged peaks crowned by more than 300 glaciers. (Check out my photos on my Instagram page here.)

The Coast Starlight would follow the Cascades until I left my window for dinner at 7:15 p.m. I suspect listening to Bach or Beethoven would have heightened my otherworldly sensation, but I was frozen in my seat.

Odell Lake

I recorded my first favorite video of the Coast Starlight as we reached Odell Lake (between Eugene and Klamath Falls). Propping my arm up on the armrest, I videotaped this mystical moment—a shimmering lake, black shadows, soaring mountains, grey clouds, and a ribbon of blue sky.

The lake transformed into a Monet oil painting—the placid lake reflected the storm clouds and the huge fir trees on the side of the mountain range.

“The lake is a perfect mirror reflecting the sky and mountains with their stars and trees and wonderful sculpture, all their grandeur refined and doubled.”—John Muir

Like Muir’s memories of his Yosemite National Park, I think the grandiose Cascades are imprinted on my soul. And I observed its majesty alone in my roomette. (The Cascades spans the entire length of the state of Oregon, from the Columbia River to the California border.)

Eating with Strangers

At 7:15 p.m., we were called to dinner. (Reservations are required. If you want late seating, remember to request it early in the day.) I wanted to watch the day’s end from my table as I sipped my glass of wine.

The waiter seated me at a table with two passengers—a mother and her adult daughter traveling from Seattle—who would become my dear friends over the next 25 hours of our journey. My lunch companion also joined our group.

Now, I know you might think it strange or taxing to eat with strangers on an Amtrak train. But I’d like to stop here and observe how easy it is to make new train buddies on these overnight train journeys. A love of train travel certainly bonds us.

But I also think that the act of slowing down to get to a place unites us. Somehow, simple activities like eating together and talking together draw us closer. This never seems to happen on a plane trip. We put on our earphones and block out the world until the pilot lands the plane.

Join the Club

It is also fair to say that you don’t commit to spending two days on a train trip when you could fly from Portland to Los Angeles in two hours, unless the romance of the rails seduces you. You must embrace the journey itself—taking time to watch the landscape of Oregon and California float by in slow motion—instead of rushing to your destination.

Now I know you can look out your plane window and meditate on the moving clouds outside your tiny window, but I don’t believe this compares to seeing the shifting scenes of cities and towns, farms and parks, glide by your train window.

At dinner, my waiter seated me on the left side of the train, which enabled me to see the snow covering the ground outside. (I didn’t see any snow hanging from tree branches on the right side of the train from my roomette window.) Seeing the snow astounded me, as my trip occurred in early May.

Travel in Summer

My recommendation is to schedule your overnight train trip between May and September so you have the maximum hours of light. If I had scheduled my Coast Starlight trip in the winter, I would not have seen the Cascades or the snow on the ground. After 5 p.m., I would only have seen darkness.

When my waiter served my steak, I could hardly turn my head away from watching the sky catch on fire at sunset.

“Softly the evening came with a sunset.”—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

As we all finished eating our dessert, we marveled at the world “streaming” through our dining train window. Instead of our eyes glued to a TV or phone screen, we watched the trees and the landscape through a window.

Sleeping on a Train

After I said goodnight to my dining companions, I walked back to my roomette. While I was eating, my attendant folded down my two chairs and turned them into a bed. Although a roomette is quite small—some might even call it a monk’s cell—it is still quite cozy. I found two pillows and a blue comforter. He wedged my suitcase and backpack into a tiny corner, and plastic water bottles sat on the ledge.

I changed into my night clothes and closed my privacy curtain. Then I locked my cabin from the inside. For the next hour, I lay on my bed and watched the dark window until I grew tired. Then I closed my curtains and fell asleep.

For eight hours, there was nothing to see except the lights of three train stations when our train briefly stopped.

At 12:45 a.m., we crossed the border into California. There were three stops during the night: Dunsmir (12:45 a.m.), Redding (2:31 a.m.), and Chico (4:12 a.m.)

I slept through the first two nighttime stops, but I heard the train whistle in the early morning. Pulling my windows open a slit, I thought about the animals asleep in the woods and the farm animals beginning to wake in their barns. The Chico train station looked deserted.

“A whistle blew, and the train trembled into movement. The station lamps sailed by them into darkness.”—Graham Greene

I think waking up on a train is rejuvenating. All night, the train rocks your body back and forth like a mother holding her infant in a rocking chair. What seemed disorienting when you first boarded your train now feels normal. Your body and mind are physically moved (by this experience).

Good Morning Sacramento!

I chose to step off the train in Sacramento at 6 a.m. as we had a 40-minute “fresh air” break. Stretching my legs and breathing in the cold air delighted me. Moreover, I watched the sun peek out behind the clouds. Not surprisingly, I was not joined by most of my fellow passengers, who were still sleeping.

But I wanted to say hello to California and see the state capital (however briefly). I walked all the way down to the train station to see the historic Renaissance Revival style building (completed in 1926). Inside the building, I saw a huge mural entitled Breaking Ground at Sacramento, January 8, 1863. The painting shows a politician talking to a crowd of settlers, including a family who arrived in a covered wagon and a cowboy on horseback. The mural was completed in 1930.

Despite the early hour, there were many passengers waiting for their train. I made a full circle of the station, then stepped outside. A sign pointed to “Old Sacramento,” but there was no time to investigate. Instead, I walked vigorously down the concourse, where the train silently waited for passengers to board.

Coast Starlight Observation Car

When the conductor shouted, “All aboard,” I climbed the steps and headed for the observation car. I was surprised to see several early birds perched on their recliners to watch the sunrise. (There was also one chatterbox that spoke quite loudly, which was quite a distraction.) I slipped in my earbuds to block his conversation and listened to soothing classical music.

As I sipped my coffee, I pondered what might transpire during the next 17 hours of traveling from Sacramento to Los Angeles. Now, at this point in the journey, you might think that you would feel bored or frustrated. If I had booked an afternoon direct flight to Los Angeles yesterday, I would have slept quite soundly in a hotel bed last night in the City of Angels.

But I am beginning to realize that I am a strange breed of traveler who wants to slow down and enjoy the two-day trip to Los Angeles.

“A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.”—Lao Tzu

You’ll hear it all the time, but the train passenger enjoys the journey as well as the destination. I discovered this to be true. I wanted to disconnect from the hectic world and focus solely on the scene outside my window.

Hanging Out

My friend, whom I met yesterday, came down to the observation car around 3:30 a.m. She had trouble sleeping in the upper bunk bed. I imagine that it feels restrictive since your face is practically touching the ceiling. I would recommend booking a bedroom, which offers more room, including a sofa that converts to a bed, an in-room toilet, and a shower. (A bedroom is considerably more expensive than a roomette.)

We talked about the scenery outside. People think of California as a place of famous cities, such as Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Jose, and San Diego, but a vast swatch of the state is farmland in the north. I fell in love with the mountains and undeveloped land that I saw in northern California.

Breakfast Time

After two hours of watching little towns like Davis and Martinez saunter in (and out) of view, I decided to go down to the dining car for breakfast. I chose the famous French toast with strawberries and a side of bacon. I don’t know if it was just my thrill of riding the rails or my empty stomach, but it was the most delicious breakfast on my vacation!

Around 7 a.m., passengers began pointing excitedly in the distance to San Francisco. Although I had to strain, I could see the Golden Gate Bridge on the horizon. I tried photographing the city’s skyline, but it was too far away. I needed a camera with a zoom lens to capture the “City by the Bay.”

Literary Connections

My time on the train is sweeping me back into the state’s illustrious past as a place where writers lived in the 19th and 20th centuries. In Oakland, our train passed signs for the Jack London Square, which is located on the city’s waterfront. This train station is named after the author Jack London, who owned a ranch in California and wrote about Sonoma County.

“Across Sonoma Mountain wisps of sea fog are stealing. The afternoon sun smolders in the drowsy sky. I have everything to make me glad I am alive. I am filled with dreams and mysteries.”—Jack London

He clearly loved what he called “the most beautiful, primitive land to be found in California.” I, too, would have loved to roam the ranch, stopping to admire the great firs, tanbark oaks, maples, live oaks, white oaks, black oaks, madrone, and manzanita.

San Jose

One and a half hours later, we roll into San Jose at the Diridon Station. We get a “fresh air” break to roam near the train, but when the conductor calls “all aboard,” we must scoot.

A Cal Train sitting on the nearby tracks fascinated me. (I love to write about street art tour, such as my Bristol Street Art Tour and my Free Berlin Street Art Walking Tour.) This is my first example of moving street art, or what I will dub “train art.” The #236 train displays a giant cluster of purple grapes surrounded by swirls of vines. Gorgeous.

Trails&Rails

We had special visitors who boardedour train around 11 a.m. Three volunteers from Trails&Rails talked to the passengers who were sitting in the observation car.

These National Park Service volunteers shared stories about national, state, and local parks or places of interest along our route. They helped us connect with the sites and stories we saw out the window.

“Trails&Rails is proud to continue a historical tradition of bringing trains and people together. The creation of the American railroad system, which provided a newer and faster method of transportation, facilitated the growth of our national parks, as many of our early visitor facilities were built because of their close proximity to newly constructed train stations.”—Amtrak

Our volunteers handed out brochures about the 1773-1776 Anza Expedition. The Juan Bautista de Anza National Historic Trail covers over 1,200 miles through the homelands of 70+ Tribal communities.

The Long Wait

I spent the entire day in the observation car except for a quick break to eat my breakfast and lunch. My friends warned me that everyone on the train wanted to get a seat in the observation car when we reached San Luis Obispo. This is the point when the Coast Starlight begins to follow the Pacific Ocean coastline down to Santa Barbara.

You can probably imagine my frustration when I had to give up my seat when I was called to dinner at 5:30 p.m. I had been sitting for 12 long hours in the same seat. Naturally, another passenger happily took my place when I retired to the dining car. The worst part was that I was seated on the left side while I needed to be on the right side. I jumped out of my seat twice to return to the observation car to videotape this ocean view.

After quickly eating my dinner and skipping dessert, I raced back into the observation car. I stood in the aisle to videotape the ocean. Luckily, a passenger grew bored, and I was able to take his place.

Ocean View

The Amtrak Coast Starlight is deservedly famous for its two-and-a-half-hour journey along the ocean. I simply couldn’t stop marveling at the view. Picture the moss-green coast and the rocky ledges. White ocean waves bubble near the coastline. The horizon is painted steel grey. Watch how the train hugs the coastline here.

My eyes barely focused on the mountainous coastline when I saw green bushes with yellow flowers appear. The brown cliffs nearly blocked the ocean view except for a V-shaped opening. Next, the coastline flattened so I could see rocks in the ocean.

The quick changes from brown terrain to vibrant green tufts of grass and ribbons of yellow sand mesmerized me. At one point, I spied a wooden picnic table on the grass beside a single highway lane. We passed a pier. I saw palm trees planted in a grove.

Los Angeles’ Union Station

After the ocean disappeared from view, I slumped against the back of my recliner and savored the experience. I still had another three hours before the Coast Starlight would chug into Union Station in Los Angeles. Due to traffic delays, we were running about one hour behind schedule. I would need to order an Uber and check into my hotel in downtown Los Angeles.

But I was reluctant for my train journey to end. From the moment I walked off the train at Union Station, I knew I had also stepped out of “train time.” This made me sad. I felt like I was entering a tunnel when everything went black. I didn’t want to forget these memories of riding the rails.

But it turned out that I wouldn’t. The memory of being suspended between two worlds seems to be permanent. My train journey shuttled me through a long-ago world of Oregon and California.

Amtrak Coast Starlight Research

Before my trip, I watched travel writer Jeb Brooks’ video (2 DAYS on Amtrak Coast Starlight Train from LA to Seattle) to get an idea of what my journey would look like. (I am a huge fan of Jeb and his wife’s train videos on YouTube.)

I also suggest looking up Reddit posts by travelers who describe their experiences on different Amtrak trips. Most people rave about the portion of the trip along the Pacific Ocean coastline and through the Cascade Mountains in Oregon.

I wholeheartedly recommend booking the Coast Starlight. Thank you, Amtrak!

Optional San Francisco Visit

Two days is a long time to travel on the train. I recommend that you consider breaking up the journey. You could stop in San Jose. There are easy light rail connections to San Francisco. Wouldn’t you like to spend a night on Nob Hill?

If you do stop in the Bay Area, don’t miss my guide to the 15 best things to do in San Francisco. It is easy to spend several days exploring the city’s historic neighborhoods. I also discovered hidden stairways, gardens, and scenic viewpoints on foot. The guide includes my favorite walks, local discoveries, and practical tips to help you make the most of your visit to San Francisco!