Missed The Train (Again)

McCloud (August 9, 2010)

My mother used to say to me “When they handed out brains, you thought they said trains, and you missed yours.”

For many years an excursion train that ran from the depot across from the McCloud Hotel served dinner to guests during a slow ride through the forests at the foot of Mount Shasta.  But despite the many trips we have made over the years past the mountain on our way to and from Oregon, we either flew on by McCloud or were usually in town on days that the train didn’t run.  On one of our recent trips, we booked a one-night stay at the hotel on a Thursday, but missed out on an opportunity to ride the train because I thought it only ran Friday through Sunday.

We’re spending the night in McCloud this time on a Monday and the train isn’t running.  But it wouldn’t have made a different if we had stayed the entire week.  The stagnant economy derailed the dinner train and its cars have been sitting immobile on the tracks across from the hotel since the end of 2009.

But there was some good news to greet us on arrival this afternoon as well as during the drive up from the Bay Area today:  The weather is about 10 degrees cooler than it was during the last two weeks when it was in the mid-90’s or higher.  Even Redding, where the concrete gets hot enough to melt the soles of your flip-flops, was just pleasantly warm when we stopped to top off the tank of our CR-V.

Not much goes on in McCloud.  There are a few shops and lodgings that cater to tourists, but for the last two or three years there has been only one restaurant serving dinner.  This year the dining room in the hotel re-opened, but during the last seating at 7:00 pm we were the only guests.  In the past, the dining room had a limited menu, but at least there were a few entrees to chose from.  These days, there is just one selection per night and tonight it was Meatloaf Monday.

Our server explained why the dining room was empty (except for one couple who was just finishing their dessert as we arrived):  Many of the other guests had dined early and were off square-dancing.  So after our meal was over, we walked three blocks down the street to the community center to “catch the action.”

There wasn’t much action to catch.  This must have been Day One of the five-day Dance-A-Thon because all of the dancers were wearing Tee-shirts and shorts rather than the usual Western garb favored by square dancers.  None of them seemed to have a clue about the dance steps the “caller” was shouting out; they just milled around in confusion, then stopped.  Maybe by week’s end they’ll have memorized the “playbook” and have their moves down pat.