Ye ship has landed...

I was expected many more hot blonde people with wearing swimwear,
carrying surfboards, less fat people roofing in the industrial part of
town. Well this is Norcal.

I've arrived and am now charging my phone, then I'll get my stuff, set
up my bike and head to Marc's graduation. Let the ride begin!
Scottie

To all the youth reading this...

Crime doesn't pay! It costs 77 dollars for the upgrade.

After trying to sneak in another shower this morning, I was disturbed by
a knock on the door mid scrub.

"Scottie, we need to have a talk when your done" a voice, presumably
roger's, said.

When I came back Roger was sitting with the conductor and Morgana and it
was explained to me that our options were to pay for the room upgrade or
be escorted off the train, with police assistance, when we reached
Winnamauca. Roger opted for jail time, but I, more easely startled,
opted for room.

The thing is when going to the shower I saw a man reading the newspaper
in sunglasses and a coat-I swear he had a fake moustache on too- sitting
at the front of the car who was not there when I went to bed. A fucking
spy! They planted a spy, one of the conductors who was hellbent on
teaching us a lesson. Morgana tried to get him to let us slide, but
RULES ARE RULES.

Luckily enough though, breakfast and dinner came with the room. And we
boasted our capture, while the other members of the train came in to
hear our tale. Despite being the obvious scoundrels, the passengers
regarded us as heroes. Modern day Robin Hoods.

The quote of the day came from the Morgan Freeman sound alike who runs
the dining car.

"When do they start serving lunch?" Roger asked.

"Believe me you'll both be the first to know." said the MF wanna be.

"How will you find us?"

"Believe me, I and everyone working on this train, know everything about
you to by now"

Illl hit Sacto in about eight hours.
--Scott E. Blozie

If you ever get the chance...

Cross the country by train, I've been gone two anf half days and have
already seen so much.

Salt Lake City was cool, said goodbye to Mike and Issac then hit the
town for an hour so with roger. We passed skid row with all the homeless
and managed to find a wendy's, my first warm meal all day.

Got back on the train had a long talk with a woman from redding all
about youth, relationships, having children and the more glorious
moments in American history. From there Roger and I had a drink and shot
the shit. After all we didn't get a sleeping car instead we got
distracted by watching a blazing wildfire from our window.

I'm about to head to sleep and maybe talk to two pretty girls pending
they are still awake and I can muster up the courage.
--Scott E. Blozie

Scotch-bot reporting for duty...

Under command of Leuitenant Issac, We're about thirty hours in here on
the Calafornia Zephyr and still going strong. We commandeered a train
car and have been flipping the seats for optimal sleeping conditions.
However within ten minutes we had not one, not two, but three Amtrak
officials in our car telling us how irresponsible we are. After Roger
the the ex-patriot sweet talked Morgana, our specific car's stewardess,
she said she'll look the other way when we take hold of a sleeper car
after we leave Salt Lake City, saying goodbye to Issac and his father
Mike. We'll try to peaceful but if neccessary, force will be used!

Before all this I managed to sneak my way into the "authorized personel
section" to get a shower. The water wasn't hot but wasn't cold either.
And I was so dirty it didn't matter much as long as I got clean.

The latest word from the conductor says that we'll be in SLC a few hours
early, giving me a good amount of time to check out the city, say proper
goodbyes, and hopefully get a hot bite to eat.
--Scottie

Tales from the California Zephyr

It's about quarter of eight in the morning in Denver am I'm taking my
time to wash up and relieve myself proper while in the station.

I woke up around six in time to witness my first sunrise in Big Sky
country. Had a nice chat with an acoholic named Alamo all about the
women and the glory known as the Midwest. He's even more creepy than my
now friend, Roger, the ex-patriot. There all good people though. Had my
first glass of OJ in some time as Alamo told me he only needed enough to
make a few screwdrivers. Then the women next to me gave me her bottle
too. She wasn't a lush, just didn't want it. I think people are showing
extra kindess on account of my appearence. I do look rather shabby.

Well it's time to get a real glimpse of these Rocky Mountains!
Live the life you love, love the life you live
--Scott E. Blozie

A breif tour of Chicago

During my four hour layover in Chicago I quickly rushed over to the 826
tutoring center/ spy store. The store itself was smaller than I expected
but full of numerous gadgets for all those with surreptitious behavior.
I included a few pictures but they were taken with my camera phone so
please pardon the quality. I didn't get to see the tutoring center
itself but did have a good chat with a nice gentleman named Drew who is
a student at Princeton, working at the 826 for the summer. He even
showed me his favorite invention a USB powered nerf rocket launcher!
Talking to him made my desire to work at the superhero supply store
swell even more.

When I got off the train it was raining fairly strong, and I am wearing
nothing but shorts and a muscle tee until I hit Sacto. CVS wanted eight
dollars for a children's size poncho. Fuck that, I bought a box of
garbage bags and headed out for adventure. Later in the day after I
bought some food for the fifty four hour train ride that lay ahead.
Stupidly though I bought it by the 826, over a mile away from Union
station. By the time I was a few blocks away my bags ripped open.
Luckily I had those garbage bags which made excellent suitcases.

Sam the man Pendergraph sugguested I check out the art museum. Sadly,
the 826 was further out than I expected so I'll have to put it on list
for next time I see the city.

I felt a real affinity with this city, perhaps because I was carrying a
copy of Augie March in my bag and singing Lawrence arms tunes to myself.
I only wish I had more time, but the west won't wait!
--SEB

And no picaresque tale is complete...

Without the protaganist encountering his fair share of unsavory
characters along the way. Mine takes the form of the ex-patriot sitting
next to me who probably suffers from permanent shellshock. From our
(immensely freightening) conversation, looks like he's transfering onto
the California Zephyr too. Looks like I'll have a friend all the way to
Reno!
--Scott E. Blozie