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GARDEN CITY, Kan.— Amtrak's Southwest Chief train is rumbling through the pre-dawn darkness just east of the Colorado border when a pickup truck pulls into view on U.S. Highway 50, which parallels the tracks.

The truck slowly catches up to the train and then passes us, its taillights disappearing toward the Rockies. We'll never catch up because our 268,000-pound locomotive isn't allowed to go that fast.

"We're just moseying along," says conductor Marcelino Martinez.

Welcome to cross-country train travel, circa 2015.

Rafe Smith, 2, peers out the window of Amtrak's Southwest Chief as the rising sun illuminates fields along the Kansas-Colorado border. Rafe and his family were traveling back from Ohio to Arizona.

(Photo: Trevor Hughes/USA TODAY)

Here, on the plains of Kansas, one of the country's premier train routes is limited to no more than 79 mph, and that's a best-case scenario. Much of the time, the train runs far slower on the scenic eight-state route tracing portions of the pioneer Santa Fe Trail from Chicago to Los Angeles.

The tracks have deteriorated to the point where federal officials have limited the train's speed across Kansas, Colorado and New Mexico, in some cases to just 30 or 40 mph, lengthening the trip by two hours. The privately owned tracks are fine for freight traffic, which is what they're mostly used for: "Coal doesn't care when it gets there," says Amtrak spokesman Marc Magliari.

For rail enthusiasts, things could actually be much worse. In 2012, the tracks' owner, BNSF Railway, told Amtrak it needed to come up with $100 million to upgrade the tracks if it wanted to keep using the rails. Amtrak, a federal agency that runs the U.S. rail system , didn't have that kind of money.

Amtrak conductor Marcelino Martinez rests his hand on a table next to his uniform hat as the Kansas landscape blurs past in the background. Martinez grew up near the railroad, and after serving in the Navy, returned home to Colorado to work for Amtrak.

(Photo: Trevor Hughes/USA TODAY)

Unlike Europe or Asia, where rail systems are highly subsidized by national governments, America's railroad system remains largely private and almost entirely focused on freight. Passenger rail is generally a money-loser because people prefer to travel by private car or airplane. That's created a vicious cycle out here in the West: Amtrak's federally funded service isn't as convenient, which means fewer people take it, leaving the agency with less money to maintain its system, forcing it to consolidate routes and cut service, which makes it even less attractive.

And that's coming at a time when passenger rail travel is at an all-time high for Amtrak. The challenge is that most of Amtrak's success comes on the heavily populated East Coast, where 10 cities are responsible for two-thirds of all ridership on short commuter routes. In the West, by contrast, trains are emptier and cover vast distances between tiny towns.

An Amtrak engineer climbs aboard the train at La Junta, Colo. before continuing the train's journey to Los Angles.

(Photo: Trevor Hughes/USA TODAY)

Many Western leaders worry Amtrak will cancel even more service, in some cases further isolating small towns that depend heavily on access to the train and the tourist dollars it can bring. In Lamar, Colo., pop. 7,700, the train's twice-daily passage temporarily blocks the main street. But folks there don't see that as a problem.

"It's a lifeline out of our community, but also coming into our community," says Mayor Roger Stagner. "A lot of people who come to visit, end up coming back."

The Southwest Chief carries about 350,000 passengers annually, including about 5,000 Boy Scouts visiting the historic Philmont Ranch in New Mexico. The trains run across the fruited plains and give riders a chance to see the purple mountain majesty of Pikes Peak and the Rockies. The train rumbles through former frontier towns like Dodge City, Kan., across southern Colorado and then into Northern New Mexico before winding past the Grand Canyon and onto L.A, knitting together communities far from airports or major highways.

Residents of those small towns in 2012 were shocked to hear Amtrak was considering re-routing the service or canceling it entirely as the tracks slowly degraded. They held a series of emergency meetings in which elected officials across three states pledged to work together to save the service by fixing the tracks.

It worked. Local and state taxpayers found millions of dollars to get the work started. A pair of federal grants are now providing another $27 million to make a major dent in the maintenance needs.

A plate holds together two pieces of rail: the historic track laid in the late 1940s, on the left, and new, thick rail laid this summer near the Colorado-Kansas border, which will allow Amtrak's Southwest Chief to run at higher speed.

(Photo: Trevor Hughes/USA TODAY)

Today, workers are cutting out older sections of rails and replacing them with newly forged track. In some cases, the rails and ties date to the late 1940s. Originally sourced from a steel mill in nearby Pueblo, Colo., the old rails are 80-foot lengths that are bolted together, giving the train its characteristic "clickety-clack" ride.

The new rails — which are made in that same but now-modernized mill — are 1/4-mile-long sections welded together into a continuous rail that provides a quieter, faster ride.

A track worker cuts out an older portion of the tracks along Amtrak's Southwest Chief route so new rail can be laid in.

(Photo: Trevor Hughes/USA TODAY)

For most Southwest Chief riders speed isn't the attraction. Rather, it's the largely hassle-free world of traveling by train. There's no invasive security checks, no constant reminders to avoid congregating near the restrooms, no other drivers checking their cell phones and drifting across lanes.

The trains instead are filled with riders free to move around, to walk the aisles and to watch the country roll past through large windows while waiting for their dining-car reservations. Among the most frequent riders are Mennonites who don't fly, retirees experiencing the country at a slower pace, and Canadians exploring their southern neighbor.

Amtrak conductor Billy Ray Pearson chats with the train's engineer by radio while assistant conductor Justin Anton listens in. Anton, a former Army Ranger, says he sometimes misses the adrenaline rushes that come from fast-roping out of helicopters, but that he now enjoys getting to see the country he once helped protect.

(Photo: Trevor Hughes/USA TODAY)

Wes Smith said he, his wife and their two kids decided to take the train home from a family trip to Ohio. Even though it would take them much longer, he said it was worth it.

"It's a chance to see the countryside and make it memorable, instead of the hustle and bustle of flying." Smith said as his son, Rafe, peered out the train window at the rising sun.

As the train rolled on, conductor Billy Ray Pearson made the next station announcement: "Amtrak Train #3, the Southwest Chief, next station stop, La Junta. La Junta, Colo. will be next."

Beneath the train, the new rails sang a different, quieter song. Workers had installed them the day before, and the Southwest Chief sailed along smoothly. The communities it serve hope to qualify for one more federal grant to complete the track work and restore the service to its glory days at high speed, possibly including a new stop in the historic Colorado town of Pueblo.

When the work is complete, the Southwest Chief will make its run 100 minutes faster than it does today. Longtime rail enthusiasts may miss the rhythm of the steel wheels rolling over the tracks. But at least for now they don't have to worry about losing the train entirely.