An Aerobatic Warbird Flight. This will surely end well.

I’m a pretty risk averse person by nature, Jarrod.  I look at those inspirational memes that say things like “outside your comfort zone–that’s where the magic happens” and I think “mmmmm, you obviously haven’t seen me virtually fused to my couch, binge watching House of Cards. Because it’s pretty damn magical…”  But I think I have a secret inner thrillseeker.  She takes possession of my form from time to time and books activities that promise to ‘get the heart racing’ and ‘really have your adrenaline pumping.’  Pumping?? PUMPING??! I like my adrenaline at a barely discernible trickle/slow leak. Inevitably, these activities are veritable torture for me, but pretty good fodder for the blog.

One afternoon in summer, I come to after what I can only presume was an inner thrillseeker possession; disoriented, humming the Top Gun theme song and browsing through aviator sunglasses on Asos.  Seems inner thrillseeker has gone and booked herself an Aerobatic Flight in a Military Warbird. Speeds up to 370km/h. G Forces up to 6.5.

Oh. And she’s booked said flight on my birthday. What a bitch.

This calls for immediate preparation: I promptly google image Amelia Earhart and weigh up whether I can carry off the goggles and flying cap with earflaps look–

Categorically would never carry this off

I also re-watch Top Gun, spending more time than is healthy or normal perfecting my post flight swagger, and taking performance notes on how to ever so casually drop into conversation that my plane was once inverted:

Got the hand movement and head tilt down pat.

The flight is booked with Adventure Wings in Tooradin, only a little over an hour out of Melbourne. It’s in a military warbird, model Nanchang 39 which was built in the early 80’s to train Chinese airforce pilots. Think of the history… all those debates about WHO was mere wingman, conducted in Mandarin in this very cockpit.

We get to Tooradin a little early and head to The Old Jetty Cafe for a pre flight toasted sandwich and beverage. I opt for the What The F*&% Are You Doing Ham and Cheese Toastie and the Lady, You Are Going To Majorly Regret This Iced Coffee.

Big Milk Drink before an upside down flight. Proof that older does not equal wiser.

My flight is going to involve things like upside down loops and barrel rolls. The lady at Adventure Wings is explaining the manoeuvres to me but she’s using hand gestures more complicated than Tom Cruise’s, and it’s making my stomach drop and my armpits very sweaty. I nod convincingly and my brain drowns out her speech by mentally playing the track Danger Zone at very high volume. Naturally there is a waiver to be signed, every activity that Inner Thrillseeker books involves waivers, and then….it’s time to board.

Anxious smile that doesn’t reach the eyes at all: check.

Fact: in the Top Gun sequel, the US soldiers will all be wearing mint green, red panda shorts.

I’m happy just sitting here, really. What a rush!

Now, I’d like to say that I was coooooooool as a cucumber, and that at the end of the flight, my co-pilot… ok, the actual pilot expressed abject disbelief that this was my first ever Aerobatic Flight. That no other passenger had ever been as nonplussed as me about flipping upside down and rolling the plane 360 degrees along its longitudinal axis. But the photo evidence does not lie. I am an anxious little possum.

Still upright, whiteknuckle gripping the side of the cockpit with left hand.

Guts lurching as we roll, 90 degrees to the horizon

Wait, the ground is not meant to be up there. *Swallows hard

The scenery from the cockpit is absolutely gorgeous, 360 degree views out across the bay. The pilot is in constant communication with me via a headset but to be honest he’s competing really hard with my inner dialogue of don’tthrowup, don’tthrowup, don’tthrowup, don’tthrowup…. I should stress at every point during the flight, he explains what we’re about to do and checks that I feel up to it. I have ample opportunity to say “yeah, nahhhhhhh. How about we just coast like a normal plane, and drink in the vista.” Why don’t I? Because I’m proud to a fault and I don’t want to appear pissweak. So I deliver a frankly Oscar-worthy performance as ‘girl who like, totally isn’t battling dry mouth, sweaty upper lip, and waves of nausea’ and upside down we go again…. and again…. and again…..

We come back to land and complete the mandatory TG high five–

Frankly, all I want to to is lie down and pash the tarmac.

Any hopes I harboured about swaggering away from the airfield in slow motion? Let’s just say I should have aimed for ‘slow, wide based lurch, shallow breathing all the while and hissing shut up at my dad who keeps ASKING do I need to throw up.’ Because I seriously nailed that.

Was I sick? No.

Not in the plane, anyway. But, about two km down the highway on the way home I just about leapt from a moving vehicle to run and throw up very elegantly in the roadside shrubbery. Just like Amelia Earhart no doubt did at some point. And then I dry retch all the way down the Gippsland Highway. Best. Birthday. Ever.

I’d actually like to try a flight again, perhaps without a foolishly huge, creamy milk drink sloshing violently around in my belly next time. But I’ll throw it over to you, as always Jarrod. An aerobatic warbird flight at Tooradin: Jarrod, would you go there?

I DID smile. (Thrillseeker clearly in possession of my form at this point)