Skykomish
Destination Unknown
Skykomish
Admiral Biscuit
Her coat was damp with fear-sweat when she finally emerged from the grainer’s hole, back out into the light of the sun, into the sweet evergreen-scented air. Her whole body was trembling with adrenaline, and she needed to run or fly but she couldn’t, not from a moving train.
But she could. As she stuffed her army blanket back in her saddlebags, the rational part of her mind told her it was stupid and dangerous, the train was still moving fast. She’d picked this car believing that it would safely take her through the mountains, and so far, it had. It would be foolish to abandon it, especially here where the trains rushed by—and it was accelerating, no doubt grateful to be out of the tunnel as well.
She didn’t care. Her instincts had been screaming at her to fly for a quarter hour, and she was going to fly.
Brace on the angle iron, check for major obstructions, remember to come off banked because she was going to be hit by a harsh crosswind immediately and she’d have no time to recover if she screwed up. She’d wind up stuck in a tree or picking gravel out of her coat for a week if she was lucky. If not? Well. . . .
Her launch was sloppy but effective. Sweetsong didn’t hit any of the nearby trees or the side of the hopper car, and her forward momentum carried her up to the tops of the trees almost immediately. She’d heard that humans sometimes launched airplanes with catapults and this was nearly the same thing; she’d had a forty mile an hour head start on her liftoff.
The track was easy to follow, not to mention the road that ran nearby, along with a wide clear swath through the trees to the north where power lines went.
The Pacific was west, so she went west, soaring a few hundred feet above the tops of the trees, racing at first to get all the adrenaline out of her system, and once she started to feel better, she slowed her pace to a more conservative speed, one she could maintain for hours if needed.
Aside from the road and the power lines, there wasn’t much sign of civilization around her. Later, that might be a problem, but for now she still had food and water, she could sleep in a tree, and she’d already seen two passing sidings. More would be further down the tracks. As long as she kept them in sight, she might yet find a train she could ride.
•••
Sweetsong circled Skykomish, getting the lay of the land. The town had food, lodging, a rail yard, and a miniature train which people were riding. It had steam locomotives and diesel locomotives, even a miniature replica of the BNSF locomotives that sat in the yard nearby.
She wasn’t ready to land just yet; she still needed to feel the air under her wings to offset the terrifying confines of the tunnel, so she swooped down under the truss bridge over the river and climbed back up, skirting the dense pine trees until she was overtop them again, then went north all the way to the power lines. As she passed under them, she could feel the current reaching out to her, lightning contained in a wire, teasing across her body as she dove back down, this time along a dirt road through the woods.
That was a tunnel of sorts, although the sun came through and birds were chirping and the only wind was the gentle mountain breeze, filling her nostrils with the scent of pine.
The road made a tight curve to follow the contours of the mountain, but she was not bound by that and climbed again, darting among the crown of trees.
In the plains, she didn’t have to fly very high to spot towns; in the mountains, the undulating landscape and trees hid them; if she hadn’t known where Skykomish was, she might not have even known it was there.
How far was the Pacific? If she flew high enough, could she see it from here? That thought nagged at her, and she circled aimlessly, wondering if it was within flying distance. The map she’d seen in the train station had had Skykomish on it, and she still had a ways to go. If her memory was correct, she was only halfway across Washington.
•••
She flew south and landed on a transmission tower. Her wings were starting to ache, and the feel of the electricity coursing below her was invigorating. It was almost like being in a thundercloud. Sweetsong let the current flow around her and through her and carry away the last memories of the tunnel, and then she flew off, back towards Skykomish.
•••
Tickets for the miniature train were free. She queued up with all the other people and got petted by a few kids who were suddenly more enthused about seeing a pony than riding a train.
Her train was a sort-of freight train and she settled in on the wide center beam of a flatcar not meant for carrying actual loads, hooking her forehooves over the front bulkhead. The locomotive on the front of her train was a steam locomotive, and its wheels slipped before it got the train moving around the loop of track. The miniature train’s route was decorated with rocks and plants and even had a small Cascade Tunnel, which wasn’t scary because she could see how big the hill was on top of it, and there was plenty of light inside. It was kind of silly to take a toy train that didn’t go anywhere, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity. It even had a name, as a proper railroad should: the Great Northern & Cascade Railway.
She couldn’t help but wonder what the big trains thought of it, what the big train crews thought as they went by. Did they think that a bunch of silly people were riding a little train in a loop, or did they ride it, too, on their time off?
She thought that some of them would.
Her second lap, she rode on the back car and watched the rails behind her, and the illusion of normality would take hold and then be dashed as they passed a real-size car or somebody casually stepped across the tracks to get a better picture of a pony riding a train.
The gift shop had hats and books of photos detailing the rich railroad history of Skykomish, as well as a rack of postcards. She bought two to send back to Michigan—maybe it wasn’t the Rockies like she’d intended, but the Cascades were nice, too.
There was no way she could summarize her journey on a postcard, no matter how small she mouthwrote, so she settled for a few highlights: the DPU, the electric commuter train in Chicago, hiding from the bull in Idaho. Sweetsong thought about mentioning the Cascade Tunnel, but then thought they might worry if they knew she’d abandoned a train while it was moving.
The post office was only a block from the train, then across the tracks was the bulk of town, nested on a triangular spot of land.
•••
Instead of finding a restaurant or convenience store for dinner, she followed the Skykomish River a few miles out of town and caught her own dinner, a nice fat trout.
She also found some horsemint and yellowcress, and by the time she perched in a pine tree for the night, her belly was full.
The air in the mountains was different than the air on the plains or out in more built-up areas. Sweetsong wasn’t sure why that was. It was thinner at higher elevation, of course, and there was more pine tree smell, but there was something else intangible about it.
Maybe it was just the nothingness of the spot she’d found, not so far from town that she couldn’t hear the trains run through, but far enough away she couldn’t see it from her spot in the tree.
Skykomish lacked the openness of Montana but had its own rugged beauty. She nibbled on a pine frond and then put her head down on her forehooves and fell asleep.
•••
In the morning, she caught another fish for breakfast, a young steelhead, then quickly washed herself off in the freezing cold river and stretched out on a rocky deposit to dry off. She’d already spotted the perfect place to catch a train, and wasn’t in any particular hurry. There was a steady parade of trains going by.
She brushed herself off then repacked her saddlebags, taking mouthfuls of fresh grasses for later. They’d be a nice change from the packaged convenience store food she usually got.
Not far out of the yard, the tracks bent along the river, with dense conifers on the other side. Any westbound train leaving the yard wouldn’t have much speed as it passed.
•••
By noon, she’d found a train, and the oddest flatcar she’d seen: it was neatly stacked with rail wheels, two rows high.
It only took her a moment to make her decision. The load offered both visibility and security; she could ride with her forelegs on the axles and have a good view forwards or backwards, and she could duck down under the axles and be practically invisible.
Even better, the ends of the car were open if she needed to quickly leave. She wouldn't have to try and fit out a hole or between cross bracing, she could run off the deck or climb to an axle on the top row and take off from there.
The car was specially made for this service. It had a low curb all the way around it to keep the wheels in place, and was stenciled “freight car wheels only.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen cars with special instructions painted right on them. Some of them were obvious, like only taking a specific load or being returned to a specific place, while others were less clear. There were instructions on how to load or unload cars, where to put the straps when the car was empty on centerbeam cars, and various hazardous cargo placards and signs. Not to mention they all had their load capacity and build date painted on them.
She dove in and landed on the leading end of the flatcar, worming her way under the rail wheels as the train passed back into the trees. For now, she was secure. The car didn’t lend itself to laying out her army blanket—the wind would take it—but at night she could wrap herself in it.
With a new kind of car or load, she always tried to figure out where she might be visible from and where she’d be hidden, and she took a minute to settle in, then peered through the gap between the wheels at the nearby mountains and the Skykomish River.
Sweetsong didn’t curse herself by promising that this would be the car she rode to the Pacific in, but she did try and psych herself up just in case there was another long scary tunnel ahead.
I could have bought a flashlight in Skykomish, she thought. That would help.
Would it? Or would the single beam of light playing against the rushing walls make it worse?
Logic suggested that any other tunnels would be short: surely tunnels were expensive to construct, and they wouldn’t have two long ones on the route. Besides, when she was riding the little train through the fake Cascade Tunnel, she’d learned that she’d ridden through the longest railroad tunnel in America.
Even though she knew that wasn’t true; subways were longer.
Instead of leaning on the first wheelset, she leaned on the second. That gave her very good cover to the front while still providing a decent view.
They ran alongside the Skykomish River and US 2, all of them taking the easiest route through the mountains. Sometimes she’d lose sight of the road or the river or both, and then they’d reunite.
As they continued west, she started seeing more and more houses, along with more towns. The land was flattening out, slowly descending towards the ocean.
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I hope Sweetsong gets to see Puget Sound, Seattle, and Tacoma.
I forget if it's been mentioned... I wonder if pegasi like sushi?
just imagine her reaction if she visited Europe and the new 36 mile long tunnel under the Alps?
Given the Chunnel is all enclosed, with tourists, or carefully checked freight?
Aw who was scared in the tunnel? Yes you were, yes you were~
11134798
She will get to see most of those places if not all of them.
11135044
It hasn’t been, but I don’t see why they wouldn’t.
11135460
That would be one big ‘nope’ from Sweetsong, no question.
Also not something she’d want. Having a mountain overhead is bad enough; having some rock and then a whole body of water is even worse.
11136003
Poor panicked pegasus pony. They don’t do well in tunnels at all . . .
Silver Glow never liked them, either, and at least she was inside a lighted passenger coach with her friends.
I'm just realized that you just casually say she caught a fish, but it's not like she's catching it and gutting it and cooking it up. She's just holding one and down with a hoof and ripping it apart with her teeth. Then maybe taking a quick dip in the stream to wash off the gore.
Unless I'm completely misunderstanding, but it would be pretty funny ever seen your child sees her eat the fish and just starts crying.
Almost to the other ocean.
11141743
Yes, that’s true. Or else it’s a smaller fish and she’s just eating it whole . . . I’ll leave that up to the reader.
Nope, you’re totally right. She’s diving into the water, catching a fish in her mouth, and eating it more-or-less whole. I could see some kid being upset about that, honestly.
11147532
She’s getting close.
haha what an adorable image
11204087
If you were there, you’d take a picture.
Because it is adorable.
11148103
Well the one is described as a 'fat trout'...but I still prefer the image of her smacking the fish on the ground a few times to stun/kill it, and then awkwardly gulping down the whole thing like a greedy seagull, tail sticking out the sides of her mouth until she can manage to get it down.
thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/close-up-photo-seagull-eats-big-fish-close-up-photo-seagull-eats-big-fish-water-105234147.jpg
Behold the majestic pegasus.
11229833
I do think that’s how pegasi would do it. Or else stomp on it to kill it; I’ve heard from some sources that some kinds of horses have learned to fish that way. Find fish in shallow water, stomp on them, eat them. I’ve also seen a video of a horse doing that to baby birds. . .
derpicdn.net/img/view/2013/5/21/330248.png