Navy Pier

You walk out over the water on a long deck of stone and wood. Lake Michigan stretches wide on both sides of you. A warm wind carries the smell of the lake and the cry of gulls. Ahead, a tall wheel turns slowly against the sky. This is Navy Pier, reaching more than half a mile out from the shore of Chicago.

The pier opened in 1916. At first it carried a plain name. It was Municipal Pier, and it was built to do real work. Ships tied up here to load and unload goods. The long deck also gave the public a place to walk out over the lake and feel the open air, away from the crowded streets of the city. Lumber, coal, and sugar once passed across these boards.

In 1927 the pier was given a new name to honor sailors who had served in the First World War. From then on it was Navy Pier. The name has stayed in place ever since, even as the work of the pier itself changed many times over the long years that followed. It became a tribute carried in a single short word.

The pier has worn many uses. During the Second World War the Navy trained here, and pilots practiced landing on ships out on the open lake. After the war, for nearly twenty years, part of the pier served as a college campus for returning soldiers who wanted to study. Classes were held where ships had once docked. Each chapter left its mark on the long building.

By the middle of the century the pier had fallen quiet and worn down. For a time its whole future was uncertain. Then the city chose to rebuild it as a place for people to gather. In 1995 it reopened, remade for visitors, with gardens, halls, boats, and rides set along its length. The new plan kept the long, simple shape of the old pier.

The wheel is the part you see from far away. A Ferris wheel has turned at the end of the pier for years, a nod to the very first Ferris wheel, which was built in Chicago for the great fair of 1893. The wheel you see today opened in 2016 and stands close to two hundred feet tall above the deck. Lights run along its rim and glow after dark.

Riding it is calm, not frightening. The cars are fully enclosed and move slowly. As you rise, the pier shrinks below you and the city skyline lines up neatly along the shore. On a clear day the water spreads out flat and bright, and you can watch boats setting out and coming back to the harbor. The whole ride lasts only a few slow minutes.

The pier is busy with small pleasures. Boats leave from the docks for short trips out on the lake. Some are fast and loud. Others raise tall sails and lean over with the wind. There are halls for events, an indoor garden kept green all winter, and open spaces where people simply sit and watch the water. You can rent a bicycle or simply stroll.

Food and music drift along the deck. The smell of popcorn and fried dough mixes with the clean lake air. Somewhere a speaker plays a song. Children run ahead of their families toward the rides. In the warm months, fireworks light the sky over the water on certain nights, and crowds gather along the rail to watch them. The mix of sounds and smells is part of the place.

It is worth walking all the way to the far end. The crowds thin out as you go. At the very tip of the pier the city feels far behind you and the lake feels very large. The water can be calm as glass or rough with whitecaps, depending on the wind. Either way, the horizon is wide and open. Gulls ride the wind and hang almost still above the rail.

The lake sets the mood each day. In summer the pier is full and warm. In winter the wind comes hard across the ice and few people linger outside for long. The same long deck can feel like a fair on one day and an empty pier at the edge of the world on another. Spring and autumn bring quieter, softer days in between.

A pier is a strange and simple thing. It is a road that leads only to water, built so that people can stand for a while between the city and the open lake. When you turn back toward the shore, the skyline rises ahead of you, and the wind pushes at your back, as if the lake itself were walking you home.