Car vs train across the United States

Dan clicks my phone off and looks up. I look at Dan. We floor it a bit more. Turns out the 500bhp of the Bentley V8 is all there, and we're prepared to use it. Traffic going towards San Francisco is static. We illegally fling ourselves down the lightly occupied High Occupancy Vehicle Lane, assuming that because the back seats are full of gear and we have the wind deflectors in place, we are - effectively - highly occupied two-seaters. There is some non-specific illegality. We cross the Carquinez Bridge with the Conoco Refinery on our right. South west towards Richmond, hook the Eastshore Freeway and look desperately for our turn off at Powell Street.

Time check. The Zephyr is now due into the station at 3.45pm, 25 minutes early. It is 3.31pm, we're in a town and we're relying on GPS. I'm so tense I'm leaving fingerprints on the steering wheel. We're not talking. After two days and two nights, we're down to the wire. Powell Street. Hollis Street. OhGodohGod. The Bentley roars up every exit, bullies up to traffic at turn signals and generally behaves like a thing possessed. And then, there it is: Emeryville Amtrak train station on Horton Street.