By Dell Franklin
I was at my starting point — the waiting room at the San Luis Obispo Amtrak Train Station at ten in the morning — sitting beside my lone bag and small thriftstore blanket rolled up and tied together, when I spotted two elderly gents walking into the station together, dragging two large suitcases apiece. Paunchy, graying, clad in blue jeans and heavy coats, unrecognizable in this part of the world, their ball caps and T-shirts told me they were proud Vietnam vets.
Later, we all boarded an Amtrak bus to take us to the train station in San Jose. A miserable ride. But once at the SJ station we were the only three left to take a train to Sacramento, where I was going to stay for two days and resume the rail to Denver and visit family.