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// August 10 [Flight to Chicago] 
// Story: Silver Glow's Journal 
// by Admiral Biscuit 
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August 10

I woke up earlier than usual, 'cause I was so eager for my trip. And it was already looking like another beautiful day today, even though the sun wasn't very far up yet.

The first thing I did was stretch out and then I flew out my balcony and took a quick trot around the block, flexing my wings a little bit, and then I did a couple of jog-hops, and when I got back around to my apartment I flew up to my balcony and apologized to the birds for scaring them off while they were eating breakfast.

My own breakfast was oatmeal and a little bit of hay, and then I checked over all my flight gear and put it all in a neat pile on the bed so I wouldn't forget anything and I stuffed my saddlebags full of hay—I'd have Mister Salvatore take them with him; I didn't want to wear them when I was flying. And I sat down next to my gear and started preening my wings even though I'd done it last night. A couple of feathers had gotten ruffled while I slept.

I put my portable telephone in my vest pocket along with the two tins of anchovies, and then I stuffed the other pocket full of the moistest hay from the middle of the bale. That kind of made a mess in the bedroom but I could clean it up later.

Then I took my portable telephone back out 'cause I thought that maybe I ought to call Meghan but I didn't want her to worry but she'd probably worry anyway so I did call her and she sounded worried and I promised her that I would call her when I got to Chicago and that Mister Salvatore had a boat and I had a new watch that would tell me where to go.

I sat in the papasan and watched the birds for a while and then I went and checked through all my flight gear again to make sure that I had everything and cursed myself for being silly because I'd already made a couple of flights that long before, so of course I wouldn't forget anything.

Well, I'd only checked through my flight gear two more times before Mister Salvatore and Miss Cherilyn arrived, and they helped me carry everything down to Sienna, and I checked through it one more time to be sure that I had everything before we left.

I'd planned to relax in the back seat, but I just couldn't because I was too eager to fly.

When we got to South Haven, we went to the docks and Mister Salvatore got his boat. Mister Salvatore thought it was really nice and Miss Cherilyn said it was pretty small. There were little vertical pipes all over it which were used for fishing, but they wouldn't be doing any of that today.

The captain of the boat was named Captain Buroughs, and he was really interested in me, and he said that this was the strangest charter he'd ever had.

We put all my gear on the boat—the plan was that I would fly off of it after he got into the main channel—and then we all lined up for a picture.

Mister Salvatore and I put the directions in to my watch. He'd decided that I should land on Northerly Island, because he said it would give him immense satisfaction to stick it to Mayor Daley, and there was a nice little beach there where I could cool off and a marina behind it so that the boat could get fuel.

And he gave me another little bit of equipment which was called an EPRB, and he said it stood for emergency pegasus rescue beacon. That could go on a hind leg, 'cause I probably wouldn't need it, but if I did he showed me how to make it send a signal. He said that it could also be set to trigger automatically if I landed in the water, but I would want to make sure that it was turned off before I went swimming on the other side.

So I put on all my gear and Captain Buroughs had Mister Salvatore help him untie the boat from the dock and I was already dancing on my hooves by the time that we were moving into the main channel.

I told myself that I wasn't going to take off until we got along the jetty, and it was really hard to wait. Mister Salvatore was standing in the front, helping to look for other boats or obstacles in the water, and Miss Cherilyn was sitting in the back, watching the land go by, so I stood next to her until I could see the jetty and lighthouse ahead.

I went up to the bow and Captain Buroughs slowed the boat down so that it wouldn't overrun me.

I took one last look at all my gear and when I was sure that I had everything, I called the airplane directors in South Haven and told them that I was taking off from the mouth of the Black River on a course for Chicago, and they gave me permission right away.

Just as a wave pushed the bow of the boat up, I took off and started climbing. Not too fast; I didn't want to overexert myself early and not make it all the way because of that.

There were a lot of small boats out in the lake already, and for a while I could use them to easily judge my height, but as we got further out into the lake there weren't so many any more, and without knowing how far away they were it wasn't as easy to know how high I was.

As the shore got further and further away, it was really reassuring to see the boat, although it looked really tiny out there all alone.

I kept land in sight for longer than I'd expected, because I was flying at an angle to the southwest and that was kind of the way that Michigan's shore went, too. So even after the sun had passed overhead, I could still make out the shore of Michigan behind me, but eventually I got far enough away that it was gone completely, and there was nothing but Lake Michigan as far as I could see in every direction, and one little boat that was following me.

I'd kind of known that this would be the most boring part of the trip—I was glad that I'd ridden on the ferry with Aric, 'cause I think I wouldn't have been prepared for it otherwise. There was nothing to see, and only my little watch telling me which way to go.

After a while I started to lose track of time and it felt like I'd been flying forever and would keep flying forever because there was nothing but water and sky. And the sunlight reflecting off the waves was starting to hurt my eyes a little bit, and it didn't help that I was straining them in the hopes of seeing Chicago in front of me, but there was nothing.

It started to get a little bit cloudy, and that was nice because I could cool down a little bit when I was in cloud-shadow, and it also cut down on some of the reflections off the lake, but it meant I couldn't see as far, I didn't think.

I'd been flying for over five hours when I finally saw Chicago clearly enough that I knew it wasn't a mirage. I'd thought I'd seen something that way before, but I hadn't been sure. But this was it: it was kind of hazy because of the distance, but the two white antennas on the top of the Sears Tower were unmistakable. And I was right on course; it was right in front of my muzzle, so I reached my foreleg up and gave my pilot's watch a little kiss for being so smart at knowing where I was supposed to go.

As I got closer, I started to see boats out on the lake, and small flocks of seagulls flying over the lake looking for a meal. And I could see the island that I was aiming for, too: it was long and rectangular, with a little notch that was the beach and a round building on the north end.

I had to remind myself not to rush—it was still a long ways off.

I wondered how much they could see from the boat. Surely the skyscratchers would be visible to them; they stuck up so far over the lake that if I could see them so could they.

When I was about fifteen miles away, I called the Chicago airplane directors and told them where I was and where I was going and at first they told me I couldn't land at Meigs Field because there wasn't an airport there anymore and then another airplane director said that I could and told me to fly straight in and he asked what my bearing was to him and how far I was.

I wouldn't have known that before, but since O'Hare was the nearest airport, I could just push a button on my watch and it told me, so I told him and he thanked me and told me to call them if my flight conditions changed. I liked him better than the first one because he sounded nicer on the radio.

By now, I was pretty exhausted. My camelback was empty, and my tummy was growling—I'd managed to eat most of the hay that was in my vest pocket, but I'd dropped a little of it down to the lake by mistake.

The final stretch was as much willpower as anything. I started getting into a bit of a headwind, which wouldn't have been anything normally, but I was to the point where I was trying to stretch my glide as much as I could, and I guess it probably made all the sailboats happy but it wasn't what I wanted, and I started to wonder if I'd ever make it or if the wind would pick up even more and keep me out to sea. Maybe it would blow me all the way back to Michigan, and then I'd have to start all over again.

But when I was finally close enough to see people on the ground I knew that I was going to make it. And some of them were pointing out over the water at me.

I knew that boats weren't allowed to go boating where people were swimming, so as tempting as it was to land on the beach, I went just a little bit further past the end of the main beach towards a second, smaller beach. There were a bunch of people out there flying kites and enjoying the wind, too.

I'd misjudged and dropped too much altitude and I had to climb up a little bit once I got to the edge of the island or else I would have crashlanded on the beach, so I stuck my nose up and then dropped to the grass.

I turned around and there was the boat, and it got as close to the shore as it could and Miss Cherilyn jumped out and waded up the beach to greet me, and she helped me take off my flight gear so that I could go wade out in the water and cool down some. And she brought a bottle of water with her, too.

I can't think of any other time in my life that wading out into water has felt so good. I went in until the water just touched my ruff, then I laid down, stretching my wings out over the surface and letting the little wavelets move them up and down for me.

Captain Buroughs took the boat around to the other side of the island where the marina was and Miss Cherilyn asked me how my flight had been and I said it had been long and I was exhausted but it had been worth it. And then I told her that she might have to drag me back to shore.

I finally got out of the water and shook myself off when Captain Buroughs came across the island, because he said that he had to take the boat back to South Haven, so he couldn't stay the night, but he said that he wanted to say goodbye before he left, and he gave his portable telephone to Mister Salvatore so that we could have a picture of me in Chicago with him. Then he shook my hoof and said that next time I wanted to fly across the lake to call him.

I sat on the grass and let the sun dry me off and talked to a bunch of the kite-fliers and swimmers who had come over because they were curious. All of them were pretty amazed that I'd flown all the way across the lake and a woman in a bikini asked me why I'd flown across the lake and I said because I wanted to.

Even though I was exhausted I was really happy that I'd done it.

I also called Meghan and told her that I had made it safely and I said that I wished that she was here to preen my wings for me.

Once I was mostly dry, I got up and Miss Cherilyn wiped some grass off my belly, then Mister Salvatore called for a car to come and pick us up, and before too long a big Suburban pulled into the parking lot, and we all got in. I sat in the back next to Miss Cherilyn and Mister Salvatore sat in the front.

We went to the Hilton Hotel, which was where we were going to spend the night. They had a restaurant called Kitty O'Shea's and we ate dinner there. I had the lake trout—and Mister Salvatore said that the boat had had a fish-radar and that next time we did this trip he'd want me to circle around for a little while while he did some fishing. I stuck my tongue out at him.

They also had a beer sampler called Flight to Ireland that sounded pretty good, and he said that I could only get it if I shared because he didn't want to have to deal with a drunk pegasus flying all over Chicago and I promised that I wouldn't do any flying at all because I was too tired to fly.

After we were done eating we went up to our room, which was kind of like a suite except that there was only one bedroom but it did have a lounge, and a nice view over Lake Michigan. Mister Salvatore said that he could sleep on the couch but I said that I wouldn't mind it, 'cause it would be like my futon.

I took a nice long shower 'cause my muscles were starting to cramp up a little bit, and then I took a pile of their fluffy white towels out to the lounge and made myself a little nest on the couch where I could sit and watch the lights of the city.