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I am planning another cross-country trip by train. Working name: West by Northwest.

While it feels a bit right on the heels of the last one (known as: West by Southwest,) and I feel a trifle extravagant and/or frivolous, there are creditable reasons to go sooner, rather than later. Primary among them: Making hay while the sun shines. Beyond any impending sense of decline I may be experiencing as Jeff’s caregiver-in-chief, there is also the realistic acceptance that if probabilities hold, stage 6 of his illness (the last in which we can expect any kind of travelability...and only in the early phase at that,) will be over within 2 years.

There is also my mom, and our decision to do something together. I hope my lovely healthy mother will find many more opportunities to explore the world, but since her primary travel partner’s (my dad’s) death from Parkinson’s in ’09, I would love to fill any available niches to the extent that I can. (Though she should note: Olivia, aka daughter #3, has offered to accompany Grandma to almost any exotic location of Gma’s choosing. Is that a deal or what?)

Hence, last week we found ourselves poring over an expansive pile of brochures and magazines offering trips to every corner of the globe. We wanted to take the one down the Peruvian Amazon by riverboat. Sold out. We almost booked a small-ship cruise to the Galapagos Islands. The rivers of Europe looked awfully pretty. But the more we thought and weighed Jeff’s limitations against the imperative to maintain a pleasurable, non-stressful traveling atmosphere, the narrower our parameters became.

Substantial changes of time-zone will knock a healthy person’s IQ temporarily down by several multiples of 10. We don’t want to turn Jeff into a zombie. Airport security is hassle enough with someone who can’t manage his own items. Adding customs to that seemed excessive. Many boat trips required numerous transfers into rocking zodiacs where the nimbleness and visual requirements might trip us up. Tours by land would have us changing accommodations nightly, increasing disorientation.

Finally, I told Mom that ever since our Amtrak Southwest Chief trip, I’ve been eyeing the Empire Builder covetously. Would she be interested? Mom is a sport, and an adaptable one at that. So yes. This has, therefore, become much more of an Emily trip than a Gale (mom) trip.

So--barring unforeseen downturns in function or other eventualities--we will, in late April, chug from Washington D.C. to Whitefish, Montana (with a change of train in Chicago.) I don’t think much happens in Montana in the Spring, but that might be ok for us. Glacier National Park will be there, and we’ll drive in and have a look around. We’ll see what museums are open year-round, and relax at the inn. I’ll post, with an eye toward making it look exciting and enviable.