the rail.

Rail travel is not meant to be as adventurous in the 21st century as it was in the days of steam trains, but I’ve discovered a way to re-create the past.

Currently: traveling Toronto to Nakina, VIA Rail: 3:00pm.

This 20 hour train journey was to begin promptly at 9am from Union Station in Toronto. At 9:15am, I find myself questioning the passenger behind me in a line of people walking towards Gate 10. The questions in my mind are verbalized as I become aware of the fact that my train was to depart from Gate 8, and I suddenly find myself herded along with the other passengers past the pillar with that label. “Where are you headed?” asks I. “Ottawa,” he replies. “You?” Knowing full well that Nakina, my destination, will mean nothing to likely every other person I unexpectedely find myself boarding a train for Ottawa with, I reply with my trains ultimate destination, “Vancouver.” And the reality of stupidity crosses my mind. I have just spent the last half hour waiting in line for a Gate that has been fully opened for likely an hour, welcoming those guests who wish to travel from Toronto to Vancouver via Nakina.

Finding the nearest VIA representative, I explain my situation, knowing full well that it is a hopeless one as the next train headed to Nakina leaves Toronto on Thursday, two days away. Mine is the route less traveled. Thankfully, the holiday spirit is still in the air as the VIA rep goes to ‘see what she can do’. Five minutes later, she returns with the hint of a smile – the kind of smile one gets when they know that it is guaranteed to be returned with another smile. “I found you a ride to Washaga”, or whatever it’s called. Washaga, Washabo, Wash-something-or-other. Whatever it is, it’s the next stop after Toronto for my train, and it happens to be an hour and a half north of Union Station. And I need to get there, pronto.

Ten minutes later, my ride arrives: a brand new Lincoln cab, driven by Sadar of Niagara Tours, complements of VIA Rail. The chase is on. Like two armed bandits, Sadar and I gallop full throttle in pursuit of the promising loot of a passenger-filled train, it’s rising steam disappearing in the distance. We have an hour and a half to meet up with a train that is, by VIA’s timetable standards, 1 hour and 20 minutes away. Under normal circumstances, this would be no problem. But the man at the reins is riding a new horse, and decides that this would be a great time to break in his trusty steed’s cruise control. Time is ticking as we pull into Barrie to check our status on a map and fill up on fuel. 50 km away, 25 minutes to go. With the cruise control mastered, Sadar sets our pace at 140 km/h , and we gallop down Highway 11, past Orillia and all the other towns along the way. My train is to arrive in Washago at 11:08am. We trot into the station at … 11:08am.

Suspense-filled pause.

A man waits alone on the platform, taking in deep breaths of nicotine, luggage at his side. Jumping out of the car, I dash over to him with one question on my mind: “Are you waiting for VIA?”

Suspense-filled pause.

“Yup,” he replies. And with a handshake and a hug, Sadar proudly declares our victory to timetables and runaway trains. Mission accomplished, Sadar jumps back in the saddle of his new pride and joy, and rides off into the, er…midday sun… with promises of a future meeting in Grimsby to discuss our adventurous tale over a round of Tim Horton’s coffee.

And now, four hours later, I find myself on the elusive train as it courses it’s way through rocky passages and lightly dusted snow on green pine and white birch, interspersed with the lakes of which can only be found in Northern Ontario. In the distance the sound of a train whistle emanates from the diesel engine three cars ahead, whose constant drone provides a perfect backdrop for the music that quietly plays through my headphones. I love train rides.