I enjoy watching programs about tiny houses. I totally “get” the concept; a simpler lifestyle, less to clean, the necessities and comforts of home with much less overhead. I marvel at the creativity of the builders, who have to incorporate as much storage as possible into a very minimal space. One builder even managed to build a professional grade kitchen into one end of a tiny house!
Although I could see myself calling a tiny house “home” someday, my husband is not a fan. I settled some time ago on what I’d consider the next best thing, the hope of eventually downsizing square footage, so at least there is less to clean and keep up. (I’m not kidding when I tell people my dream home is one that can be cleaned with a leaf blower!)
Now, I have a glimmer of hope that he might gain some new perspective.
I wrote th
is post from my comfortable seat on the California Zephyr. We reserved what is called a roomette; functional, but very small. A roomette consists of two seats with a fold-
down table, an upper bunk, a very narrow closet, and a couple of coat hooks. We did our homework before the trip, so we knew coming in that the roomette would be small. The pictures on the website, and in the blog articles we read in advance, didn’t do justice to just how small.
We had four bags between us; each of us had a clothing bag plus a backpack for our laptops and other personal items. Based on tips we read in a blog written by someone who had made this same trip, we quickly stowed our carry-on items on the top bunk. We were shortly out of Chicago when I had a revelation, which I quickly shared with my husband. With a grand gesture that would make Vanna White proud, I exclaimed, “It’s a tiny house!”
After a brief survey of the train, my husband discovered a baggage area in the car below our sleeper where we could store our carry-on luggage. We agreed that our backpacks would stay with us for safekeeping of our electronics. These fit easily under our seats, as did the bag of diet friendly snacks I brought along for the ride. I pulled necessary toiletries and a change of clothes out of my bag and stowed them in the closet. Now organized for the journey, we settled back in our seats to enjoy the ride.
The sleeping car attendant advised when we boarded that setting up the sleeping accommodations was her responsibility, and she would begin that service in the car at 9 p.m. Our turn came shortly before 9:30 on the first night. We stepped out as the attendant converted the two seats into a lower bunk, pulled the upper bunk down into sleeping position, and put on the bed sheets. 
One prepackaged blanket each was also provided. The conductor soon informed us over the PA system that quiet time on the train starts at 10 p.m., requesting that passengers have only quiet conversation and use headphones for any music or media listening pleasure. We took the hint and began preparations to settle in for the night. With the bunks in place, we found about a foot of open space between us and the roomette door, so my husband got ready for bed first and made his way to the top bunk. I followed suit once space was available and took my place in the lower bunk. We opened the packaged blankets to find enough static electricity to ruin one’s hairdo and give new meaning to “snap, crackle, pop,” but we managed to work the static out sufficiently for sleep. Next morning, we repeated the process, with my husband again going first since his daily preparations involve far fewer tasks than mine. He walked over to the observation car to allow me time and space to make myself presentable and join him for breakfast. We returned to find our seats in their upright positions and settled in for the scenic journey through the Rockies. We repeated this process that evening and the next morning, and twice again on the return trip home.
Overall, we spent approximately 104 hours and four sleeps in our tiny house on rails. Although I must confess that I wouldn’t want to live in less than “standing room only” long-term, I would do another sleeper trip in a heartbeat. I’m also more convinced than ever that someday we could live more than comfortably in less than a thousand square feet of space.
I did receive a leaf blower at the family gift exchange at Christmas… maybe I should start practicing now.
Copyright 2018 Sherry A. Hathaway. All rights reserved.