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The long, sleek train reeked of speed as it pulled into Tokyo station.
I was finally going to ride Japan’s world-famous “bullet train” at speeds over 100 miles an hour. It was difficult to reference speeds on rails of such proportions.
I was traveling from Tokyo to Kyoto, and later to Osaka, a total distance of some 375 miles.
This was to be new to me of rail travel for a number of reasons — the speed, of course, but also for the absence of the constant clickety clack of the wheels of the train passing over the joints of the rails beneath, and indeed for the luxury.
I learned quickly when looking out to look far out away from the sides of the car to avoid a constant blur.
It was most notably interesting about 100 miles out of Tokyo when Mt. Fuji came into view. I was able to watch, for a considerable time, the perfect cone-shaped, snow-clad mountain that I had seen pictures of but never dreamt that I would one day see up close.
I was on my way to Kyoto, one of the favored smaller cities at the time in Japan, rich in history, gardens, and architecture. Then it would be on to Osaka for a few days before flying to Taiwan.
A good amount of time was spent in the club car, where the windows were huge and the refreshments up to and above par.
It truly was a car of luxury, with leather and carved wood.
There I met an Indian businessman who was traveling through various countries, tending to his holdings.
Later, I was amazed when the same man came aboard the Kowloon Ferry in Hong Kong and sat down next to me.
The bullet train had been introduced in 1964, and the world had watchful eyes on it. Now, the bullet trains there go to most major Japanese cities at regular speeds of 150-200 miles an hour.
Developing countries around the world have adopted similar systems to provide an option to air travel that is quick and more comfortable, but not the United States.
Trains have always been fascinating to me. As a high school student, we used to ride the Northern Pacific train from Palouse to Garfield and Oakesdale for evening basketball games. The timing of the train was just right to go to the two towns, then catch the returning train to go home. The timing didn’t allow us to catch games at Rosalia.
Later, after turning 16, I got a job with the Northern Pacific “gandy dancing” on Saturdays. This lasted until I got out of high school. We would “tamp” ties, re-align track, level track and, on occasion, replace a section of track.
We twice repaired a larger section of track after cars had derailed, churning up the rail bed and generally causing havoc.
The old coal-burning engines fascinated everyone, belching their black smoke and bringing in a taste of the outside world.
So stepping onto the bullet train in Tokyo was, in a sense, stepping into “train heaven.”
Probably the most surprising thing was the absence of sound. It was quick and silent at the same time.
I still remain a sucker for everything railroad.
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