THE RIGHT TRACK
undling up my blankets, I wriggled to the foot of my berth and gazed up at the millions of white stars sprayed across the dark Canadian skies. It was almost 3:00 a.m. and my fellow passengers had long since nodded off, lulled into slumber by the sway of the old train. Comforted by a hearty dinner of bison steak and a bottle of Merlot, I breathed
