Wicked Chicago Adventure

Cindie and I were married December 8 twenty-seven years ago. To celebrate the event I planed a weekend adventure, shrouded in mystery, the details of which were all arranged in advance, but were revealed only as the weekend unfolded.

Friday morning our luggage was packed and ready to go. The dogs had their baby sitters lined up. We were ready to be gone for two days. Speculation abounded as to what was going to take place. Cindie had her own ideas. My packing list had given her clues for guessing. I think her most likely scenario was a car trip to Minneapolis for a shopping spree at the Mall of America and a show.

The worst were the ladies at the office. They were relentless in their pursuit for some information as to what we might be doing. They were not satisfied just speculating, they wanted to actually know. Secret knowledge, it is powerful stuff. I was tight on this one though; the element of surprise was crucial. I confided in only one close friend; no one knew.

We finished work Friday, loaded the car and headed south. Cindie's best theory now vaporized, she spends the rest of the weekend thoroughly ensconced in the moment, expectations being of little use to her, along for the ride, living the adventure.

We stopped for a bite to eat at the Red Robin hamburger restaurant in Sioux City. We were hungry. They have the great onion rings that Cindie likes. They bring them to your table stacked from big to small on a spike with two kinds of dip.

Then we drove on down to Omaha and checked into the Hilton Garden Inn. Cindie must be thinking, "What are we doing in Omaha? Nebraska Furniture Mart? He thinks this is great shopping?" Nevertheless, she is a trooper. She is being nice to me and is going along. She knows I have put a lot into this. Besides, we have a real nice room. It is a suite with a corner view and it has a heart-shaped jet-tub in the bedroom. Wow.

Next morning I go downstairs to "take care of arrangements." Now things get interesting. I come back and tell Cindie, "Pack up the stuff, we have to be downstairs to catch the shuttle. We're leaving the car here." She must be thinking, "Oh, we're going to Minneapolis after all. We're flying instead of driving. OK."

Time is a little tight so we rush rush and then we are down stairs and on the shuttle and then we are NOT going to the airport. We are pulling into the parking lot of the Amtrak train terminal when it begins to dawn on her what the real plan is. A perfect moment of realization. "I know what you're doing," she says, "What a great idea!" Yes, I think so too.

The California Zephyr, it goes through Omaha to Chicago once every day. It leaves the Omaha station at 5:30 AM and arrives in the Chicago station at 3:00 PM. I purchased our tickets online and reserved a private sleeper compartment that included meals in the dining car. The train ended up being three hours late, so we did not need to be there at 5:30, we left at 8:30 AM. Not bad.

I knew our train was going to be late the day before. It was the funniest thing. Our train gave us a call and told us it was going to be late. Yeah, it left a message on the answering machine. It is a good thing I got home first Thursday and got the messages before Cindie did or our train would have spilled the beans. "Hello, this is the Amtrak automated train notification service. Your train is currently running three hours late. However, trains sometime can make up time in route. Call our automated update service before leaving for the train terminal to get updated information on the location of your train. Ask for information on train number six."

Our train was very friendly. She was so nice, she even understood voice commands. I phoned her several times to get regular updates on were she was. I knew just when to go to the train station. Pretty nifty. So there we are, standing on the train platform, along with our luggage, as this big huge Amtrak train comes rumbling past us and stops, with loud clanking hissing sounds. I have to admit, my heart was pounding with a bit of excitement. This was fun.

We walked along the train looking at the numbers on the sides of the train cars until we found ours. The door in the side opened and a guy in an Amtrak uniform got out and set a step stool down on the ground. Then he asked if we were looking for cabin number three, which we were; he was expecting us! How neat!

I do not want to bore you with the details, but we had the most relaxing, pleasant and fun trip to Chicago you could possibly have. The scenery was fabulous. We saw bald eagles everywhere, we saw the deer and the antelope play, the food they served was scrumptious and everyone along the way stopped to let us pass. We hardly ever had to stop.

Now as you might imagine, I had plans for when we arrived in Chicago. Originally, we were supposed to arrive in Chicago at 3:00 in the afternoon. Starting out three hours late gave us an ETA of 6:00 PM. However, they kept saying that trains often made up time along the way, and they were hoping to get into Chicago earlier than 6:00 PM. I was hoping the same thing. Because, see, here was my plan. I had a pair of tickets for front row seats at the new musical "Wicked" playing at the Ford Oriental Theater, a show that started at 8:00 PM. No problem, right? 6:00 PM arrival, 8:00 PM show, plenty of time.

Except we did not make up any time. In fact, we lost time. In fact, we arrived into Chicago at 7:20 PM. Talk about adventure. By this time, Cindie already knows all about the real nice hotel room reserved for us at the Hotel Allegro in the downtown theater district. She knows all about the real nice tickets in the front row of the real nice Broadway show that is about to start while we are stuck in a train station. We are on an adventure, see, and we are on it together.

As the train moves slowly into the station, our Porter tells us that we will make it to the show "no problem. Just go up the escalators, turn left, and take a cab." We grab our bags, jump off the train and make ready to book it when we quickly realize that there are no escalators in sight. There is nothing in sight. Just miles and miles and endless miles of trains and train platforms stretching on for seeming eternity in every direction.

We stood there for one half a second, despair setting in, when a man driving an electric cart rescues us. "We have to get to a show by 8:00 PM. Can you take us to a taxi?" we say. "Get in," he says. We toss on our suitcases, take our seats and then begin what can only be described as Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. I do not know where we went or how we got there. At one point, we were literally driving down the sidewalk on the street. I told him to just keep going, I would give him directions to our Hotel. Then suddenly we were at a cab and he was stuffing our bags into the trunk. He gets a big tip.

To the cab driver we say, "Hotel Allegro, we have to get to a show by 8:00 PM." We find out that cab drivers can go really fast. Another big tip. At Hotel check-in we say, "We have to get to a show at 8:00 PM. We're in a really big hurry." We get the speedy super fast-talking mile-a-minute check-in. They were so nice. Get to the room. Here is where things get blurry. I don't know, bags were opened, clothes were changed, it was the fastest clothes change I think we have ever done. Then back out to the street. It is less than ten minutes to 8:00 PM. I am beginning to panic. You do not just walk in and sit down on the front row after the show starts. Cindie is a bit calmer and a bit more hopeful.

The theater is three blocks away. However, it is the wrong direction on a one-way street. A cab would have to go around the block and up the next street over to get down to the theater. It is a judgment call. Would it be faster taking a cab or running down the street? I voted for the big tip and crazy cab driver theory and we hopped into a cab. As luck would have it, sure enough, we get stuck in a traffic jam on the next street over. But my crazy driver big tip theory proves valid and this wild cab driver gets on his horn and all but drives up on the sidewalk to get us to the theater. Yes, he gets the biggest tip of all.

Into the theater, down the aisle, into our waiting front row seats, we sit down, take a deep relaxing breath, the lights dim, the orchestra begins to play, and thus begins one of the best evenings of live theater I have ever attended. Adventure, it is NOT over-rated.

What more can I say? We ate great food, put Mr. Bubble in the jet-tub, shopped the Magnificent Mile until we dropped (almost literally, thank goodness for cabs) and took a one-way United flight back to Omaha late Sunday night when we were ready to head back home.

Twenty-seven years and we're still having fun. Right on!

I expect to see more train trips in our future. Works for me.