After take off I had to try and keep the chopper really low, amazingly the engine was very quiet. I had to get out of the area before gaining altitude, otherwise the crew would notice me.
Unfortunately they were due south of me, and so was Florida. I had to fly due east a ways before turning south. The chopper seemed to have a GPS system, but it would go on the fritz regularly. This meant there must have been working satellites in orbit. From our early orbits we thought that they were all space junk, but of course we didn't have time to check all of them, there must be hundreds up there. The GPS must have been getting partial readings.
This could be a big problem, I had to pay really good attention to my bearings if I was going to be able to return in time for our take off in 10 days. I thought it would probably be easiest if I flew to the east coast and then followed it straight south. That way I could take note of my northern position when I intersected the coast, then use this to return to Washington in a few days. Seems like a plan.
I never thought I would be a stow away and a thief at 55. In the end I think I would regret it more if I hadn't come, but I had to wonder about the repercussions after my return. I'd probably go to jail or something.
It didn't take me long and I was at the coast. I was right above Chesapeake Bay.
Judging by the fuel gauge I had barely touched my supply. So far so good.
