Chapter 56

In the morning, after a hearty breakfast of easy over eggs, bacon, biscuit and gravy, home fries, three pancakes with Amish butter ... mine with salt and pepper and Grace with Michigan maple syrup ... coffee, milk and orange juice, we burped politely, paid and took the hotel bus to the airport. We were both ready for some close flying.

We circled out over the lake and back to Portage. We discovered that the 100 foot line was double. There was a reef two miles offshore so we flew them both ... the reef and the half mile offshore line. Coming back to hit the Two Mile reef we over flew some islands.

We did them, too. Some of the shallows off the islands were littered with wrecks, some nearly awash. Careful maneuvering showed us holes and channels in the reefs and ridges, this situation held until we turned east at Sleeping Bear dunes. It was still awfully shallow all the way to the entrance to Grand Traverse. Then it got interesting.

From the air we could see where the shore lines ... yes shore lines ... had been in years gone by. From ridges in the water to beach shelving inland along the shore, it was easy to see the lake had been much higher. We flew them too, though I doubt anyone will care.

It was getting late. We were tired and the SNJ was tired. Even Piper was tired and she'd been asleep behind the rear seat for eight hours. We contacted the tower at Traverse City and requested a landing slot, a hangar if available or tiedowns if not, and fuel, oil and an inspection.

"Anyone here qualified to do a hundred hour?" I gave a shout on the short range radio as we taxied to a hard stand.

The short range squawked. "Yes, sir, for a great many aircraft."

"We have a North American SNJ navy trainer. She's tired and needs some qualified tender care."

"I'm sure we can find..."

I cut him off, "And while you're at it, contact the United States Geologic Service and tell them to come retrieve their magnetometer."

"Who?"

"The geology people who work for the government." I said, "And we need a hotel that takes pets ... cats in particular ... and a taxi to get us there."

Some SNJ's have interesting cockpits. Ours had the standard center greenhouse with the forward student greenhouse that slid backward over the center greenhouse and the instructors rear greenhouse that slid forward under the center greenhouse. But ours also had the very rear greenhouse that slid down behind the instructors seat with a mount for a 30 cal machine-gun for rear defense. That particular model greenhouse was taken from an AT-6 that had been built for Thailand before the United States suffered the indignity if Pearl Harbor.

The Thai aircraft were inducted into the USAAC and transferred to the Navy. Two of the 14 Thai planes were modified for carrier landings on the paddlewheel carriers. There was an accident and somehow our aircraft got that aircraft's greenhouse. It was handy as hell. It acted as an air scoop to keep Piper and the magnetometer cool ... she loved it. I don't think the magnetometer cared.

Grace was flying instructors seat so she lifted the the back greenhouse and locked it. Piper jumped out and stretched, she levitated over the side and went looking for some dirt to poop in.

"Hey, tower."

"Yes?"

"My cat is looking for some dirt ... don't let anyone shoot her."

"You fly with your cat?"

"We don't leave home without her ... she won't let us."

"That's cruel."

"Yeah, we think so too. Going to college with her was unusual."

"You took your cat to classes?"

"More like she took us.

"Have you contacted the Geological Service people yet?"

"Umh..."

"That's a no." I turned the long range radio back on while Grace was climbing out of the rear cockpit. I spoke direct to Savanna. "I need someone to come clear the magnetometer, and we're shut down for inspection."