On Traveling By Train

My first train ride was no small adventure. At twelve, I wasn’t thinking about being brave or independent. It simply felt natural. I was on board a train, watching the journey unfold as the country slipped by, one state after another. All I had was a ticket, my suitcase, a destination, and a long stretch of track ahead of me.

Somewhere between rural station stops, city lights, and the widening desert, a sense of comfort settled in. I certainly didn’t recognize it then, and I didn’t plan it to happen but years later my love for slow travel evolved into a lifestyle. Traveling this way is just me—moving forward without being rushed, one mile or one day at a time.

That first train ride didn’t just take me to the great southwest. Those three days spent in my little sleeping compartment quietly set the tone for what would become my preferred means of travel. Slow, solo and without setting foot on a plane.

Learning How to Be Still While Moving

At twelve, I didn’t rush the journey. I couldn’t, so I watched and listened. I was fascinated by the rhythm of the rails and the quiet certainty that the train knew exactly where it was going. Adults drifted in and out of my time on board, including conductors, fellow passengers, and voices I’d never hear again. I was more focused on the scenery and whatever contemplation a twelve-year-old can manage. I still remember details of that trip as though it happened a few years ago, not decades.

It was easy not having to decide anything. Menus and mealtimes came and went. Day blended into night. All I had to do was to be in the moment, whatever that meant to a tween.

That feeling is still with me.

Even now, decades later, whenever my train leaves the station, I feel the same excitement. As the world outside my window drifts by, I’m still fascinated by what’s out there. Time moves at a slower pace and all I need to do is observe.

Watching the In-Between

Trains taught me early to pay attention to what happens between places. Not just departures and arrivals, but the long stretches in between; the quiet towns, industrial smoke, open fields, and gradual shifts in time that rarely registers when travel is rushed.

On a train, nothing is skipped.

I’ve watched landscapes change the way life does—slowly, without announcement. Rivers suddenly widen. Neighborhoods thin. Desert replaces farmland. Weather changes arrive gently enough to barely be noticed. Or strong enough that the train has to pull over on a sidetrack and wait out the storm. That kind of unexpected hiccup leaves room for reflection, and reflection has always mattered to me.

That first long train ride gave me my earliest understanding that travel wasn’t about the arrival. It was about unhurried journeys. Taking mental notes, shooting endless photos, meeting new people and having time to just shut the door on the world.

Choosing Trains, On Purpose

I don’t fly. My slow travel decision sort of happened all at once. The only downside was that I felt I needed to justify my choice when grilled as to why I didn’t fly. What it means, though, is that trains aren’t a novelty for me, or an occasional alternative. Trains are a commitment.

When I travel, I move across landscapes instead of over them. I stay connected to distance, geography, and time in a way that is exactly to how I want to live. Trains help to keep me grounded, to feel where I am, think about how far I’ve come, and what lies between one place and the next. That continuity matters.

That same approach made it possible for me to reach Alaska without flying, relying instead on trains, ships, and patience.

A Lifelong Thread

As the years passed, train trips became more frequent. When I needed space to think. When I needed those few fleeting moments when there’s no cell signal. When I needed to get from Point A to Points B, C and D, trains offered exactly what I was looking for.

Trains have aged with me. My reasons for riding them haven’t changed. Train journeys still offer the same gift they did when I was twelve: time.

Why Trains Belong Here

Trains belong on Truly Sherry not because they are efficient or practical. They belong here because they reflect how I choose to travel the world. At my own pace, without rushing past what matters to me.

Trains are part of my slow-travel philosophy because they reward patience and invite my attention. Trains also remind me that what exists between destinations are often where the story really lives.

That first solo train ride didn’t just carry me to Phoenix. It carried me toward a lifetime of traveling slow and with intention.

And even now, when I board a train, I still feel a quiet reminder of that twelve-year-old girl; watching the world pass by, learning that there is strength not impatience in moving slowly, and freedom in trusting the journey.

Until next time — travel slow and live deeply,