Niagara Falls

Dear Chewey,

One of the things I’ve most enjoyed about this crazy train adventure is meeting so many people, each with their own fascinating life stories. More on that in a moment.

First, let me tell you that no photo I share can truly capture the beauty—let alone the size and magnitude—of Niagara Falls. And if a picture fails to do it justice, then my words surely will, but I’ll do my best.

To reach Niagara Falls, I caught my latest train from Penn Station (NYC) on February 13. The ride was eight hours, half of which followed the Hudson River—much larger than I expected and almost completely iced over. I must have enjoyed the view because I ended up seeing it three times within 24 hours, thanks to Amtrak not having a direct route from Niagara Falls (or Buffalo) to Chicago or Denver. So, to reach Denver—where I am as I write this—I had to go from Niagara Falls all the way back to NYC, then pass through Buffalo again, making a 16-hour loop. Not ideal. Still, the snow transformed upstate New York into a winter wonderland.

I arrived in Niagara late on the 13th. Taking a taxi from the train station to my hotel on the Canadian side, my first glimpse of the Falls was like something out of a Vegas designer’s dream—except, of course, this was real. Niagara Falls is made up of three separate waterfalls: (1) American Falls, (2) Bridal Veil Falls, and (3) Horseshoe Falls. The first one I saw, as you might have guessed, was American Falls, illuminated in vibrant red, white, and blue spotlights, with water half-frozen and half-flowing. My hotel had an incredible view of Horseshoe and Bridal Veil Falls, which were lit up in white. Looking back, I could have spent my entire stay simply watching the falls from my room—but, of course, I didn’t. Instead, I discovered the town had a casino, so I went there for dinner and a little gambling.

After playing craps for a while, I decided to place a bet on Auburn—my beloved Auburn from the 2019 Maui Invitational—to beat Alabama in one of the biggest college basketball games of the season. Auburn vs. Alabama: the top two teams in the country, and a rivalry built on pure hatred (at least in sports). I was pretty excited about the wager—until I realized the game wasn’t the next day, but the day after… the day I was leaving. Casinos aren’t known for refunding bets placed by absentminded travelers, so instead of trying to argue my case, I decided to do something different.

And this is where the people part of the story comes in.

Enter Perry and Lydia, a couple from Toronto who visit Niagara Falls every year for Valentine’s Day. After rudely interrupting their celebration with a conversation that covered everything from politics to kids, I figured the least I could do was give them my ticket for the Auburn vs. Alabama game. They kindly offered—multiple times—to send me the winnings if Auburn won, but I insisted they keep it. And guess what, Chewey? Auburn won. I like to think they had a great time with the extra cash.

After parting ways with Perry and Lydia, I went to dinner, where my waiter, Christian, struck up a conversation about football (he’s a die-hard Buffalo Bills fan). We also talked about his travels in the U.S., and in a moment that proved Americans aren’t the only ones who need a history refresher, I asked him who was on the Canadian $100 bill. With absolute confidence, he answered: Sir Winston Churchill. Now, I don’t know much about Canada, but even I could tell that the distinguished gentleman on the bill was not Churchill. I suggested I “wasn’t so sure about that,” and we had a good laugh as we Googled the real answer—Sir Robert Borden.

The morning of my departure, I had breakfast at what must be the nicest IHOP in the world, overlooking the Falls. Then, I boarded my train for the long journey back to NYC. Once in Times Square, I decided to grab dinner, where I met another great couple—David and Sarah, from Newcastle, England. It was their first time in the U.S., and despite both being from Newcastle, they had led very different lives—David coming from a well-to-do family and Sarah from much more modest beginnings. Their accents were so distinct that I often had to ask David to “translate” what Sarah was saying. We all got a good laugh out of that.

The next day, I boarded yet another train—this time bound for Denver. On this ride, I had the pleasure of sitting with two Amish men, Ben and Willard. After seeing so many Amish travelers on the trains, I finally asked them why train travel was so common in their community—though I bungled the question by phrasing it as, “Why aren’t Amish allowed to drive cars?” Willard took on the challenge of answering and explained that Amish people use horses because that’s what Jesus rode. I thought about this for a moment, then asked, “But did Jesus ride trains?” Willard could have seen it as a trap, but instead, he smiled, laughed, and said, “Well, you know what? You got me there.”

That train ride was a grueling 40-hour journey, and I was more than ready to be done with it—sleeping on trains is not ideal.

And now, I’m in Colorado. I’ll write more about my experiences here once I leave tomorrow.

I love you, buddy.

Dad