The weather in Chicago was chill and wet today. As we move north out of the windy city the light rain freezes into big puffy snowflakes. The dust the ground all around, coating everything in a white veil announcing the impending winter. But in the lees of the trees and telephone poles small patches of browned grass with a touch of green remaining to remind of the mild year it has been.

I am traveling coach for this section of my trip. As I mentioned on the previous page, I am heading to Minneapolis to spend a days seeing friends and family. It looks like tonight will be beer drinking with my friends and tomorrow will be shopping and lunch with mom. And there is a rumor that Dad, resident gourmet of the family, will be making a special veal chop creation for dinner tomorrow.

Here is the worst part by far about coach - little kids!!! Maybe I have not evolved to the stage where I can appreciate them, but I would much rather not have them running around, yelling, crying, drooling, playing games, puking, and doing all the other things that kids do.

Some of the adults can be just about as bad. Somehow I have found myself amongst a group of rather obnoxious Minnesotan women with big hair and bigger voices. Very, Very, annoying. I think if they keep it up I may have a word with them after dinner. Which, is about fifteen minutes away and I think I am going to escape and have a smoke before I get to the dining car.

A perfectly nice dinner tonight. The downsides to it were two in number. First, I had to pay for it out of pocket since I am in coach for this leg of the trip. Second, the mashed potatoes were from flakes tonight and not the real thing. That's too bad, because the taters I had last night were probably the best cooked thing on the plate. They were very tasty, which isn't to say the meal was bad, I'm just highlighting the best part.

But despite those two items of discontent, I had a nice meal of baked chicken. Joining me for dinner were Katie and her mother (didn't get her name) from Cour d'Alene, Idaho.

A quick aside. If you haven't dined on Amtrak before, here is a good tip. This was probably the best tip I picked up before I set out on this trip. The dining car only seats so many people, so the steward will sit other people at your table to fill it out. Or you may be seated at a table that already has some folks at it. More on this in a second.

Katie and her mother were traveling back to Idaho from Wisconsin, where they were visiting Katie's sister in Madison. Got a little scoop from them on conditions so far in the mountains this year. The main scoop being that there isn't a lot of snow. I guess that means I may not be dogsledding in Montana after all.

Anyhow, back to what I was talking about regarding the seating arrangements in the diner. I think this is one of the things that really make train travel great. In a way it is a sort of forced social situation, but why should that be a bad thing. There are so many ills in our fair nation that seem to arise from people not knowing people whom are different from themselves. Perhaps one reason is the lack of these kind of situations.

Now, some people will just sit at the table quietly and eat their meal in a little inner world all unto themselves. And I will admit, one must call upon the lost art of making conversation in this situation. And I do think it is an art which is dying. People are so addicted to such passive things like watching television, that the ability to talk to other people about just anything declines.

Not to mention the fact that at times I can be a stickler for protocol, and I think it is rude not to make conversation with others at the dinner table. Meals are not about eating food. Eating food is nourishment for the body. Meals are nourishment for the soul; meals are about sharing a table with other people.

Enough philosophy for today. About an hour ago we crossed the Mississippi from Wisconsin into my native state of Minnesota. Once again I am a little pissed at myself for doing this trip in the dead of winter. As I mentioned yesterday, the short spells of daylight do no justice to the breadth of the land we are traveling through. Right now that land would be a small sliver of flat land between the river and the bluffs that run along her banks to the Twin Cities. I've driven this way before by car, but as you can guess it is not the same experience.

Up the river we go through Winona, Minnesota. This town is worth visiting for a couple of reasons. First, is the place to stay. Go noth a little bit to Wabasha, and stay at the Anderson House. Along with a nice room and breakfast, cats are included to snuggle with at night. Down the road, Red Wing is home to some adsouletly fabulous work boots and shoes, and a great pancake mix called Sturdiwheat. Born out of an industrial accident (more on their web site) Sturdiwheat is the best pancakes I've ever had at home. They may even be better than IHOP, but I am still undecided on that matter.

As the train runs north the land give way from farms to more and more industry. Slowing, the skyline of St. Paul comes into view. On the horizon, I can faintly see the familiar buildings of Minneapolis rising above the land. Here, along the banks of the Mississippi, a young man from Ontario started out as a freight clerk in the steamboat trade. From this small start he would build himself up into one of the leading businesmen, freight forwarders, and steamboaters in Minnesota. After the civil war, he led a group of five investors who bought out the bankrupt St. Paul & Pacific Railroad. He was James J. Hill, and the little St. Paul & Pacific would grow into the Great Northern, and long after his death, into the Burlington Northern Santa Fe.

After dropping some mail cars, we pull into Midway Station in St. Paul, a stones throw away from the Cream of Wheat facotry. My longtime friends Greg and Steve Lauer are there to meet me. Nearby is the University of Minnesota, and we drop into one of the many pubs near campus to have a few beers and tell a few lies. Back again, I am, in my hometown of Minneapolis. Home to my parents for the night; the rest of my stay in Minneapolis will be on Part 3.