Destination Unknown
Puget Sound
Admiral Biscuit
Her train had to wait for an eastbound stack train to pass, and she took the opportunity to sit on the floor of the car and eat some of the pasture grass she’d gathered, along with the last two alfalfa cubes from Petco. On one side was a berry farm, and on the other a diner, and before the eastbound train had arrived, she’d considered flying out of her nest of wheels and getting some fresh food. Probably the farm wouldn’t like it if she started eating off their bushes, plus it was really rude. The diner might not ask too many questions about where she’d come from, and she could have just nipped out and right back to her hiding spot.
Then they were on their way again, and she leaned up against the axle. The train crept through a small rail yard, right along the edge of the Skykomish River. She kept low, peering through the bottom curve of the wheels—it wasn’t the best view, but she was nearly invisible.
This was the best car she’d picked thus far on her route, although if it started raining it wasn’t going to be as great. Decent view, virtually no chance of discovery, and the wind blowing through her mane. It was a shame more trains didn’t carry wheels around.
Only the locomotives had been better, but that was something she couldn’t count on.
•••
As she continued west, the land flattened out, and the vast pine forests were replaced with fields and towns, sometimes popping up seemingly out of nowhere. The train crossed a truss bridge over a branch of the river, and then suddenly there were houses and industries on either side of the train. At least the horn had given her some warning before they crossed a road.
No longer could she ride with her hooves up on the axle like a captain at the prow of her ship. Now she had to stay down, low enough that she wasn’t too obvious. Still, while the backs of the wheels were blinders, she had a decent view ahead and above.
One thing she didn’t entirely like about the load was that it wasn’t tied down, and they shifted ever so slightly as the train moved. Judging by the way they were stacked, they couldn’t fall so long as the train stayed on the tracks, but still. Loose cargos were dangerous, everypony knew that.
If there wasn’t anything too close, she’d risk sticking her head up to get a look around. The houses fell away, the river came close, and the road rose, leaving her in a defile, invisible to all.
Then the train honked its horn, the signal for a grade crossing, and as they rolled onto a deck bridge, she caught sight of the road again, now nearly level, and buildings ahead. This was a decent-sized town, US-2 merged with another route on a bridge that crossed the tracks, a bridge that could have been a good hiding spot if trains stopped here and if there weren’t so many cars or people around.
It was always useful to scout out potential hiding spots when she was en route, there was no telling when she might be able to use them in the future. There was a second track, so maybe trains did occasionally wait to pass each other here.
•••
She expected the towns to continue, getting more and more urban until she was in Seattle proper, but instead the highway turned away from the track, they passed an equine laundry, and she was still puzzling about that as they left the city behind and moved back into fields and pastures again. It wasn’t long before she saw another city to the north. It kept on the far side of the river while fields continued to her south, until it finally grew into what she was sure was Seattle.
A railyard had a long piggyback train loaded with semi-trailers, most of them equipped with skirting along their bellies. She’d never considered riding under a trailer before, but that could be a good spot to hide.
They went under an interstate, past Everett station, then curved around and headed into a trench.
She hadn’t expected the train to then go under part of the city, but it did.
Instead of panic, Sweetsong was completely baffled at how anybody thought of making a freight train a subway for a few blocks. Did they tunnel under or did they build on top of the railroad?
She stuck her head above the top row of wheels and could see faint light down both ends of the tunnel, so it wasn't that long.
On the other side, it wasn’t in a trench any more, and she could see big cranes and what looked like a ship off in the distance.
Is it the Pacific? She sniffed at the air, and could faintly pick up a sea breeze. But she knew Seattle wasn’t on the Pacific, it was on Puget Sound, and both her reckoning of where the train was supposed to go and the time it had taken weren’t long enough to actually get to the ocean.
From Seattle, though, she could find a route that did. Amtrak might not go there, but surely there were deepwater ports along the coast and trains that served them.
Overhead, she spotted a flock of seagulls. Back home, seagulls stayed where they were supposed to be—near the sea—but she’d discovered on Earth they’d often go far inland, subsisting on discarded food in parking lots instead of fish. Were they dumb seagulls who didn’t know how to hunt, or were they the smarter ones to get low-effort food?
She could have flown to the Pacific, and her saddlebags carried a few empty wrappers of food she’d purchased instead of foraging off what the land could provide, so it was difficult to fault the seagulls for seizing an opportunity when it was presented to them.
The train was still moving at a good clip and there were lots of people around, so it wouldn’t be smart to bail out right now, even though she could do so with little consequence. And she might, if the train appeared to be heading inland, but for now she was content to ride and watch as they passed a giant container yard, the source of the stack train that had passed earlier.
And then they were right on the coast, a tree-y hillside blocking any view of her, and the beach off to her right. Lots of islands filled the water, mostly covered in pine trees, not unlike the mountains she’d just passed through.
Seattle was famous for its coffee and its Space Needle, neither of which she could see from the train. As a pegasus coming to Earth, she’d learned about useful flight aids, but she hadn’t paid all that much attention. She wasn’t planning on flying all that far, nor at heights where she would have to use a radio and get a call sign and tell the airplane directors where she wanted to go. Humans had moving maps in glass-faced boxes that could tell her where she was and what she was seeing, but she hadn’t bought one. She hadn’t even been smart enough to buy a paper map. Still, to the best of her knowledge, there weren’t any other big cities along a body of saltwater on her route, so this must be Seattle. And if it wasn’t?
Life was more fun if each day was an adventure. This was a place she could spend a few days, earn some bits, tour around and see the sights, and when the wanderlust took her again, she’d keep going west until she found the ocean.
•••
Her ears and the occasional dock told her that she was still alongside a big city, even though it was mostly hidden by trees. The tracks ran right along the waterfront, sometimes practically in the water.
They got shifted onto a side track and had to wait next to a stinky tank farm and she considered once again leaving the train behind and exploring, but decided to wait and see where she wound up.
Two eastbound trains zipped by, and then they were on the move again, crawling forward. A passenger train passed, going in the other direction, and then they got onto another siding track, this time completely off the main.
Sweetsong strapped her saddlebags on and moved to the front of the car. She could visit the beach and get back to the train before it escaped, if she wanted to.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of orange, and stepped back as a freight blasted by on the track they’d just vacated, and as soon as she saw the first freight car, all thoughts of the ocean vanished in an instant.
The train was carrying airplanes. Fuselages, wrapped up in green plastic, their wings and noses and tails missing, but airplanes without a doubt.
Each one took a pair of flatcars, with the tail hanging over the second car, and there were little huts built at the end of the stump-tail, as well as metal brackets at the front of the car she couldn’t make sense of.
Humans are crazy. That was the only possible explanation.
She stuck her head over the side and watched as it vanished in the distance, then took to wing, making an easy flight over a small stand of trees and then to the beach.
•••
It was a popular beach for humans and dogs alike. And it turned out she was also a popular attraction for humans and dogs alike, although she didn’t notice until she’d splashed around in the water for a while and then soared around over the ocean.
She hadn’t intended to get out her guitar, but her muse was whispering in her ear, and she settled down with trees to her back and Puget Sound in front of her, and began singing.
Maybe she wasn’t where she wanted to be, yet, but maybe she was where she needed to be.