There are a lot of ways to cross the U.S. The one that probably sits near the bottom of most people’s lists? An Amtrak cross-country trip. It’s okay—you’re not the only one hesitant. On the East Coast especially, Amtrak gets plenty of hate for delays, uneven service, and mixed experiences.



But what if I told you there’s a route from Chicago to the San Francisco Bay Area that takes two nights and three days—and they feed you along the way?
Before you get too excited thinking this might be the most scenic train of your life, pump the brakes. I thought so too. And while parts of it were unforgettable, there are a few things that would make me think twice before doing it again.
First: the price. It is not cheap. You’re looking at roughly $1,100–$1,600 one way for a roomette (two people). Yes, it’s transportation plus a tiny hotel for two nights, but when you divide it out, it can feel like paying close to $800 a night for lower-end food and a bed that’s… let’s say “challenging.”
Which leads to issue number two: the beds. We booked a roomette—it’s what we could afford—and I doubt the full bedrooms are dramatically better other than space and an in-room bathroom. The bunks themselves felt similar. I’m basically the size of the bed, and the mattress felt like a cot. You have to keep shifting around or you’ll start feeling pressure points. Oddly enough, I did like the sway of the train; it kind of rocks you like a kid.
Now the food. I’m still undecided. I get that you’re on a moving train, but I don’t think that’s an excuse—especially when the galley clearly turns out a lot of plates. I’ve had better meals on some airplanes, which is saying something. Still, it’s not totally bad. For a two-day journey, the menu variety is fine. If you’re doing a round-trip back, though… good luck keeping it interesting.
Okay—enough of the gripes. Here’s the good stuff, because there’s plenty.

If you’re looking for a different way to move across the U.S., this is it. The whole experience felt special. Chicago Union Station was straight out of a movie. Walking in felt less like entering a train station and more like stepping into a living museum—not of art (though the place is beautiful), but of stories in motion. Everyone you see there is a story passing through. A traveler who, for one reason or another, chose an unconventional way to cross the country.
One story stuck with me: an Amish family traveling from Chicago all the way to Emeryville, in the Bay Area. Nearly twenty of them. I don’t know the details of their rules around cars and planes, but many Amish do avoid air travel. Watching them move through the journey together—quietly, simply—felt oddly grounding. Maybe because we were doing something they do. Maybe because they seemed so at peace living exactly how they choose. That struck me.
Another thing I loved: the people you meet in the dining car. Tables are shared, so the two of us were always paired with two strangers. We collected beautiful stories over breakfast, lunch, and dinner—folks checking a bucket-list box, others just curious to see what this infamous route is like, and some who were there because it’s considered one of the most scenic rides in the U.S.




And it is scenic. The trip feels like a moving history class on the great westward expansion. You drift past small towns that haven’t changed much in decades and landscapes that look exactly like the ones that once promised settlers a new beginning. You also catch glimpses of the cost—the mountain passes, the harsh stretches—where people risked and lost a lot to get west. From endless cornfields to the Rockies’ canyons and rivers, then the Sierra Nevada’s rugged trails, it’s a beautiful journey. With the right amount of imagination, it can feel downright magical.



So, would I do it again? Honestly, probably not. But am I glad I did it once? Absolutely—100% yes. Some things in life are meant to be one-and-done experiences, and this is one of them. Next time, I’d follow a similar route but take the wheel myself. That way, when a view grabs me, I can pull over, stand there as long as I want, and really let it sink in.

Here’s the video—we captured the whole experience. Hope you enjoy it.

