Chicago to Salt Lake. I’d planned to fly before she invited me on the train. 32 hours, 23 stops, 1,300 miles, aunt and nephew sharing a six by three-and-a-half-foot roomette, sleeping on seats folded into bunks. We hadn’t talked, really talked, in years. Our politics differed, an impasse reached. As we rode over the Mississippi, through the Plains, into the Rockies, we pointed out clouds, deer, mooning kayakers. Just beyond Kremmling I showed her how to apply a charcoal face mask, she poured us wine. We laughed, shared, healed. An American president divided us, America brought us back together.