The invitation had taken some extra time to find its way to the new address. But even if it had not reached the proper destination in time, Minty would have known she would have gotten it. In fact, she had already been preparing for it. The annually recurring air show at Sundance Meadows Airport, a small private airport seven miles southeast of Bend, Oregon. The green mousette and her green plane were always steady visitors there. It was a route she could fly with her eyes closed if necessary; take-off from Silverton, an intermediate stop at Brownsville for refueling, and from there a straight leg to Sundance Meadows.

Already she had her flight plan finished by the time the invitation managed to find its way to her new address in Bianco, the small town between Willamina and McMinnville. Already she had her beloved little plane thoroughly checked over; the engine sparkled, the exterior gleamed under a coat of wax, even the three tires had gotten some extra cleaning. As usual, she filed her flight plan on Friday, as she had to leave very early on Saturday morning to arrive at Bend in time. Routines could be dull and boring... not these routines. These routines always left Minty one very happy mouse, as they meant she would be in the air again soon.

She arrived at Silverton at the break of dawn. There was only just enough light that early in the morning to do her outside pre-flight checks, but it did not hamper Minty in the least, knowing every inch of her small Beechcraft Sundowner like the back of her paw. The weather forecasts were looking good, too; clear skies with visibility from fifty to unlimited from Salem to Eugene, which was exactly over the area she needed to fly through. A final engine check, a final fuel check; everything in order. Her run-up check; all clear. The familiar crunch of the gravel runway under her tires, the vibrations of the RPMs, it all felt so wonderful, each and every time again. A little pull; she was off.

The route was as simple and straight as it could be. It was a simple matter of following Highway Five, only at twenty-five hundred feet up in the air. Not very high, perhaps, but Minty enjoyed flying at somewhat lower altitudes, so she could clearly see what was going on below her. As the sun climbed, the landscape rolling by under her showed all the familiar signs and cities; past Jefferson, then Crabtree on the left, a little while later Lebanon, and then, Brownsville. There were three private airports at Brownsville; Cubehole and Showa Airport, and Lafferty Field. Minty always made use of the latter; for which reason, she couldn't exactly tell. She just liked Lafferty Field a bit better.

It might have been an uneventful trip, as nothing happened. But for Minty, it was never uneventful; just the thrill of being up there, far above all worries and cares and the hustle and bustle of life, feeling truly free, was always a rush of exhilaration for the green mouse. Even the simple things of refueling her plane, checking for more weather reports, getting herself a status update on air traffic brought a sense of happiness to Minty that she could never find words for to explain. It just felt... good.

Not wasting much time at her stop-over in Brownsville, the green mousette was back up in the air almost immediately after refueling at Lafferty Field. She couldn't help it, she just wanted to fly! And besides, she was on a time-table; she had to be at Sundance Meadows relatively on time for the start of the show so she could park her plane in the appropriate spot for it to be viewed, and have a little time to go over it with a cleaning cloth again, just to make sure her Sunny would look her absolute best.

The sun gradually climbed higher into the sky as the morning advanced, glinting orange and gold off the exterior of her plane, drawing a long, ill-proportioned shadow somewhat behind her on the now gradually more hilly-growing terrain under her. Just a slight pull on the yoke, a smidge of increase in altitude, making sure she would clear the mountains that were coming up with room to spare. It was another straight line on the second leg of the trip, from Brownsville simply following the river upstream, right over Dollar, then in the mountains, McKenzie Bridge, and behind the mountains, some way inland, Bend.

Minty loved this part of the flight. Even if for pilots the rugged terrain below might be unpleasant in case of an emergency, Minty loved the look of it. There was simply... so much nothing for miles and miles. Just the mountains, the forests, the fields, and the shadow of her plane gliding across it like some large bird of prey. The green mouse just couldn't get enough of the almost breathtaking sight, which seemed somehow even more spectacular in the early morning sunlight while the sun was still rising. It was simply... whoa!

Instinctively, Minty ducked a bit at the sudden and completely unexpected roar in her close vicinity, her plane ever so slightly banking to the left as it was buffeted by the wind displacement of something passing her by at very high speed, and much too close for comfort.
   "The hell..?" she squeaked, righting herself back up in her seat and looking around through the large glass canopy.

Her mouth sank open when she saw the cause of the sudden turbulence. On the starboard side, there was a huge, dark, grey F-14 jet, tagging her! Before she even finished blinking in surprise, her radio crackled to life.
   "Unidentified craft, you are flying in restricted airspace. Please identify yourself and state your business."
Minty blinked again. Restricted airspace? What the heck was going on? She reached for her radio.
   "Jet fighter, this is Beechcraft Sundowner NM eight-eight-six-eight. I am a non-combatant airplane, on my way from Silverton to Sundance Meadows at Bend. I have filed a flight plan for this route, and have flown this route countless times. I was not aware, repeat, not aware of restricted airspace en-route. Please request instructions."
She couldn't help her voice sounding a pitch higher than usual. The sudden appearance of the jet all but clipping her, and the unbelievable strangeness of the news she was flying in restricted airspace being told to her by a jet fighter pilot who made her feel like a target, were unnerving her a little bit.
   "Negative, Beech Sundowner eight-eight-six-eight. I cannot deviate from my objective. Please contact military base AAF zero seven five at frequency one-seven-two point niner for further instructions."
   "Sundowner eight-eight-six-eight; frequency one-seven-two point niner, roger," Minty replied to her radio. From a corner of her eye, she saw the jet veering away while she reached for her radio and changed the frequency. "Military base AAF zero seven five, this is Beechcraft Sundowner eight-eight-six-eight, do you copy?"
   "Beechcraft Sundowner eight-eight-six-eight, this is military base AAF zero seven five. We copy and have you on radar. You are currently flying in restricted airspace, please state your business."
Minty repeated what she had told the jet pilot.
   "Military base AAF zero seven five, I am a non-combatant airplane on my way to an air show at Sundance Meadows Airport from Silverton Airfield. I have filed a flight plan for this route, and have traveled this route countless times before. I was not aware of, nor notified about, any restricted airspace en-route. Request instructions and alternate heading."
There was a moment of silence before the voice returned.
   "Beechcraft Sundowner eight-eight-six-eight, you are interfering in combat practice maneuvers. Take a left turn, heading two-zero-five and increase altitude to two-zero-thousand."
Minty blinked and frowned at her radio. What the... were they [i]kidding[/i] down there?
   "Military base AAF zero seven five, negative, I repeat negative on altitude increase. I say again; this is a 1978 Beechcraft C23 Sundowner I'm flying. I cannot fly at such high altitudes; the engine will stall and the air pressure will crumple me like a candybar wrapper. Request permission to maintain current altitude at course change."
She couldn't help sounding a tad shortly and agitated. There was a somewhat longer pause this time before she got a response.
   "Beechcraft Sundowner eight-eight-six-eight, roger, apologies. Turn left heading two-zero-niner, maintain altitude."
   "[i]Thank[/i] you."

She pulled her little plane into a small roll to the left, heading for the course the military base had told her to take. Still, she frowned a bit. Two-oh-nine instead of two-oh-five... great, even further to the north. When she had leveled out again, Minty switched on the autopilot for a moment so she could do a quick check of her maps and charts. What she saw didn't really make her happy; this new course would take her several dozens, if not even a few hundred, miles north-northeast of Sisters. That was one heck of a course deviation from her route to Bend. Wonderful; now she would be late, and not by a bit either.

Ah well. At least it was better than being a practice target. But Minty couldn't help but wondering why no one had told her about the military maneuvers in the mountains she would be flying across when she had filed her flight plan, or even when she had acquired more air traffic information at Lafferty Field in Brownsville. Had no one simply known? It was a possibility; military practice maneuvers were not usually widely announced. But at least to air traffic control people, it should have been let on, the green mouse mused to herself. Precisely to prevent the kind of situations that she had just now flown into.

Another quick check of her aviation charts. Sisters, Oregon... there were a couple of private airports there as well, Minty knew. One east of Sisters, one southeast, and two to the northeast of the town. The look on her nav charts confirmed her thought; Sage Range Airport, seven miles to the southeast, The Citadel Airport, nine miles to the east, and Pineridge Range Airport and Whippet Field, respectively five miles and six miles northeast of Sisters. She could most likely contact the air traffic control of one of those to request another course change to bring her directly to Sundance Meadows Airport. They'd be surprised, though; they had no idea of her being there, because the airports around Sisters, Oregon had not been taken up in her flight plan. She had not thought she would have needed to deviate that far.

Luckily, no further problems arose, and she got a clear and direct route towards her destination airfield once she'd gotten in touch with Whippet Field air traffic control. It was only a bit over an hour of extra flying time, so that was not really a problem either; she had topped off the tanks to full capacity at Lafferty Field. She would only arrive royally late at the air show.

Sure enough, as she approached the small airport, she had to enter a holding pattern for a while as several other small planes were in the air for the show. Eventually she got a clearance to land, and a smooth touchdown later, Minty taxied her small plane over to its designated spot on the premises, led by a uniformed badger. He playfully poked the green mouse as she got out of her plane after shutting off the engine.
   "You're late, Minty. We're not used to that, especially not from you. What happened?"
   "You wouldn't believe it, Jeff," Minty answered with a smirk. "Somewhere over McKenzie Bridge, I got tagged by an F-14! Turns out there were some kind of combat practice maneuvers going on, and they had restricted the airspace over the area. No one had told me, so I flew right into it. I had to explain to them I was not a combat plane or a target, and I had to request a new course to get me out of there. They sent me all the way past Sisters."

She laughed shrilly while the badger shook his head in surprised disbelief. Her Sunny, a combat plane... what an idea!