Slow travel* – by Cathy Moffitt Boyd – Exit 9
4 min readThe joys of the transport less traveled by: the mighty train (MM2)
Today I’m heading to a college reunion almost 300 miles away. I’m taking a train, and as I sit here in my roomy Amtrak seat watching the pastoral scenery slip by, I think about this little-used (at least in the US) form of travel.
I considered driving to the reunion of course. The route down the New York State Thruway, once I’ve taken the ferry from Vermont (which is fun in itself), is straight highway driving. Can’t get easier—of course until you get within an hour and half of New York City, when the traffic stimulates you into high alert mode. Suddenly you go from easy navigation abetted with the easy listening of music or podcast to intense bumper-to-bumper traffic—ever on the watch-out for those crazy lane crisscrossers and wobbly 18 wheeler road hogs.
I also considered flying of course. That is also a straight easy shot from the small, secondary airport near me to one of the major NYC airports. 45 minutes of flying time. What could be better than that? And I’m no stranger to the friendly skies. I’m a United Million Miler. Flying for both business and pleasure has always been an experience I’ve enjoyed. Even now, when people complain about how horrible flying has become, I defend it. Where else can you absolutely and in a guilt-free way leave nearly all your responsibilities behind? The list of things that are possible for you to do 35,000 miles high is rather limited, promising you so much less stress and guilt. “Hey! Sorry I didn’t call. I was flying.” “Honey, could you do the food shopping this week? I’ll be flying.”
But I rejected both of these options and chose Amtrak to transport me in the seven-hour journey to the NY Metro area. Yes, I could have driven there slightly faster, but then I wouldn’t have been able to write this Substack piece, would I? No, I’d be tethered to the wheel and windshield. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to doze off the way I did an hour ago.
Many would have opted for the 45-minute flight. But is it really 45 minutes? How much time does it take to park, get through TSA, wait to board? And when you get there, how much time to walk through long terminals, find your Uber driver and finally arrive at your final destination? And are the seats on the plane as luxurious as these Amtrak seats? Are the other passengers as pleasant.. or as few?
One of the benefits of traveling in this less popular mode of transport is that you are far less likely to share the row with a rude passenger; far less likely to be in that boarding line that takes you inch-by-inch to your seat as you silently hold onto that hope that there is space left in the overhead bin once you get there; far less likely to have someone crushing your computer from the front or kicking your seat from the back; or usurping your puny armrest.
So, in the two hours I’ve been traveling, I’ve read the news, looked at the scenery, slept a bit, went to the club car for a sandwich and beverage, and just let my mind wander. This may be considered a “slow” way to go, but in this case, slow is good. Slow is less stressful. Slow is more convenient. Slow is even more productive.
I think I’ll read a book now. Before I know it I’ll be sipping a glass of wine with my good old college buddies.
*Postscript to my readers: This is a quick essay—a “sketch” if you will—to possibly be used for Exit 9 Mile Marker 2: Made a decision to slow down. In truth, I have been really struggling with Mile Marker #2. I’ve been doing research and thinking and talking about it but have really been grappling with what living a “slower” life really means.
So this newsletter is not a chapter draft, nor is it a fleshed-out attempt in any sense—this article is really a way to break my writer’s block and sort out a myriad of thoughts, ideas and feelings about slowing down, and why it presents such a formidable mile marker to living a fulfilled Exit 9 life.
Please provide your own thoughts about train travel in the comments. Thank you!
