CA: A Line train from Pomona whisks friends to L.A.’s Philippe for lunch

I had procrastinated long enough. The A Line light rail had opened from Pomona four months ago. I had yet to ride it. Embarrassing.

Following the dictate of Duke Ellington, I must take the A train. If I didn’t, someone might revoke my credentials as a public transit fan.

And so, on Monday, I parked at the Pomona North station to head into Los Angeles for lunch. Destination: Philippe the Original.

Like Cole’s French Dip, the subject of a couple of columns here, Philippe also has a claim as the inventor of the French dip sandwich. Unlike Cole’s, which is in danger of closing, Philippe, one of L.A.’s best-loved restaurants, is a beloved icon.

And it’s two blocks from an A Line stop. A meal at Philippe seemed like a fine, and delicious, entry point for a column about the train.

The Pomona North station is now home to two rail lines, run by two transit agencies. The A Line is light rail and loops through the San Gabriel Valley’s foothill cities. Metrolink is heavy rail and its route is a straight shot west.

Parking at Pomona North is now both expansive and challenging. I was meeting my retired friend Mike from Upland. We each parked in Lot 2 off Garey Avenue.

Naturally, this turns out to be the worst choice, akin to an overflow lot. We should have circled around to Fulton Road. We logged hundreds of steps just getting to the station.

On weekdays, parking is $3. However, there is an exception.

Mike, who arrived first, reported: “Parking is free on weekends and federal holidays. Has Trump canceled MLK Day yet?” Thankfully, he’s had other priorities.

Hoping for an early lunch, we were meeting at 10:15 a.m., giving us time to board in a leisurely fashion.

With Metrolink, trains generally run once an hour. If you miss a train, you have a long wait for the next one. Timing is everything. A Line trains generally run every eight minutes. This removes a lot of stress.

We each had TAP transit cards with enough stored value to ride without reloading them. If you don’t, the cards are sold out of vending machines at the station. A ride is $1.75. Metrolink is $6.75.

This being the end of the line, two A Line trains were waiting. We boarded one, then switched to the other because it was going to leave first.

Pomona, City of Options.

At 10:27, we were in motion.

The A Line, originally known as the Gold Line, ran from Union Station to Pasadena when it opened in 2003. The line was extended east to Azusa in 2016. The next leg opened last September, with new stations in Glendora, San Dimas, La Verne and Pomona.

I was on another story that day and decided I’d come back to the train line soon. Well, it’s no longer soon, but here we are.

It’s not like I haven’t been on this train line multiple times over the years, either from Pasadena or from Azusa. The fact that it’s reached the 909, though, is a modest coup. The train now runs between Pomona and Long Beach, 57.6 miles in all.

For the occasion I was wearing a cap with a Pomona logo and, underneath my long-sleeved shirt, a Philippe T-shirt.

By 11 a.m., we were at the Sierra Madre Villa station in Pasadena, once the last stop. We reached South Pasadena at 11:14, Highland Park at 11:18 and the Southwest Museum station, only blocks from the Lummis House, at 11:22.

Philippe is pretty much equidistant between the Chinatown station and the next stop, Union Station, but we traveled ahead to the Union Station just for the 1939 atmosphere. We disembarked at 11:30, or 63 minutes after leaving Pomona.

I exited, took a few steps and realized I’d left my Pomona cap on the train. I hustled back on, grabbed it and made a speedy exit.

“Your cap might have made it to Long Beach,” Mike said.

We headed out on foot for Philippe at 1001 N. Alameda St. Since my first visit in the mid-1990s I’ve eaten there dozens of times. Mike and I were crossing Alameda Street on foot when I thought to ask him when he last ate at Philippe.

“Taking a wild stab,” Mike reflected, “I’d say 30 years ago.”

Offering some sage advice, I told him: “I recommend the French dip.”

We walked inside and, as always, it’s like stepping back in time. (In Mike’s case, 30 years.) Sawdust on the floor, communal tables, pickled eggs floating in bright purple liquid at the counter, employees ready to assemble your sandwich as you wait.

The line on this holiday was almost nonexistent. I ordered a lamb dip, cole slaw, boysenberry pie and iced tea. With tip, it came out to $36.10. Mike got a beef dip, cole slaw and an IPA. We had our food by 11:46.

While I was squirting hot mustard on my sandwich, a cameraman from KTLA was chatting up a solo diner at the end of our table, saying: “We’re just getting people’s opinions on the Rams game and how exciting it was.” The customer had no opinion.

Lunch devoured, and enjoyed, we headed out to the Chinatown station two blocks north. Getting to the elevated platform let me log three stair flights. (They do have an elevator and escalator.)

Reaching the platform just as the Pomona train was about to leave, we hurried aboard. It was 12:38 p.m.

This train was largely full. At Highland Park, half the people departed. Apparently the pleasures of Pomona are lost on them.

The train runs in the 210 Freeway median part of the way, offering the fun of racing traffic, before turning slightly south. We traveled through Arcadia, Monrovia, Duarte, Irwindale and more, with passengers slowly emptying.

At 1:38 p.m., we came to a stop at Pomona North, exactly 60 minutes after leaving the Chinatown station.

A Metrolink train heading east toward San Bernardino was just pulling out.

I got in my car and made a left onto Garey Avenue. There, traffic was halted for a couple of minutes, the crossing arms down, signal lights flashing red.

Chugging west on the tracks across the intersection was a freight train. Pomona, City of Options.

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