“Where do you want to go?” the pilot asks as we walk toward the plane.
“Oh, uh, could we go to Oxford and back?” I ask. “Yeah, no problem,” he replies.
This is not a normal flight. For a start, it seems that I am the one who decides where we are going to fly. But also because I will be at the controls, even though I have never flown a plane before.
However, there is no cause for alarm at the Civil Aviation Authority: I am going to have my first flying lesson and my flight instructor, James, will take care of the tricky parts, such as landing and take-off.
The lesson location is Turweston Airfield in Northamptonshire, just south of the Silverstone circuit, and James is one of Turweston Flying Club’s flight instructors.
Ted Thornhill takes a flying lesson with the Turweston Flying Club, based at Turweston Airfield in Northamptonshire.
Ted flies the plane for much of the hour-long lesson.
It follows on from a lesson I had on a British Airways Boeing 777 flight simulator with training captain Al Bridger. He commented that I was handling the aircraft well with the more important “small movements” on the control column, and that perhaps one day I should have a real lesson.
After telling my dear mother, she surprised me with a one-hour experience at Turweston Airfield as a birthday present.
The plane I’ll be on here is a bit smaller and slower than the mighty Boeing 777: a 23-foot-long Piper Warrior II, which has room for two aviators plus a couple in the back and can reach more than 100 mph if you put your foot down.
The most difficult part of the lesson comes at the beginning: climbing towards the interior.
Ted’s flight takes place in a refurbished Piper Warrior II aircraft.
The hardest part of the lesson? “Going inside,” says Ted.
Ted flies over the Silverstone circuit (above, bottom left) on his way to Oxford and back.
There are no air bridges here. I have to carefully step on the wing, avoiding the flap, and then descend inwards.
Once the doors are closed, it’s like a greenhouse, so James opens a small window at the side and gets us going, assuring me that the cabin will be cool once we’re airborne, with air rising through the fuselage.
We move slowly along a strip of grass next to the runway. Once we reach the end, we pause to perform pre-flight checks.
James revs the engine to 2,000 rpm with the brakes applied and checks that key parts of the instrumentation and electrical system are working and that we have enough fuel.
Buckingham from above. Ted reveals that he flew at a height of between 2000 and 2500 feet
Pictured above is Brackley, where Ted went to school in the 1980s, and which now lies alongside the HS2 line (visible in the foreground).
Once he is satisfied that the aircraft is airworthy, we are given immediate clearance to take off (Heathrow, not this one) and we are in the air within seconds.
And what an absolute thrill it is. It’s the purest aeroplane flying experience you can have. No autopilot, no cabin service, no heads-up display. Just me, James and a wonderful flying machine that sounds like a bus that could probably land at a school party.
Within minutes, James lets me take the controls (and boy are they sensitive).
Ted writes: ‘Apart from the sensitivity of the controls, I’m also amazed at how much the plane moves – it never, for a moment, stops going up and down and moving left and right.’
The Warrior II takes around 30 minutes to reach Oxford (above) from Turweston airfield (with extra time to fly over Buckingham)
Now that I’m actually flying I realize how vital small movements on the control column are – that I’m always just one small hand movement away from an unwanted aerobatic display.
At first, I feel tense and in a state of euphoria at the same time: I enjoy every moment and I also really want to not crash the plane.
As well as the sensitivity of the controls, I am also surprised by how much the plane moves – it never stops going up and down or moving left and right, which is a little disconcerting. But having control calms the nerves. After about 15 minutes, I relax and enjoy looking out over the green and pleasant countryside of Northamptonshire and Oxfordshire from a height of between 600 and 760 metres.
The flight has a hint of nostalgia, because after flying over the Silverstone and Buckingham circuits, where the aforementioned Mother Thornhill lives, and noticing the scar on the landscape left by the HS2 works, we vaguely fly over Brackley, where I went to school in the 80s.
At speeds of around 90 to 100 mph, we reached Oxford in 30 minutes or so and turned left to head back, with the city’s dreamy spires clearly visible to the right.
“The flight ended too soon,” Ted writes, “and James landed the plane safely despite the crosswind.”
The Warrior II is quite old, but has seen several engine refits and is equipped with modern GPS and radio systems, bolted to the instrument panel.
Ted smiles again when he’s on the ground. He says, “(The lesson) is the rawest airplane flying experience imaginable.”
In both directions, James, an aircraft mechanic training to be an airline pilot, enables me to perform turns and keep the plane flying straight and level, which is not easy: constant adjustments to the control column are needed to keep the nose pointed toward the horizon and away from my mother’s house and my old school.
The Warrior II is quite old, but has undergone several engine refurbishments and is equipped with modern GPS and radio systems, bolted to the instrument panel.
Meanwhile, James has a flight map on a smartphone strapped to his left thigh.
Our own eyes must also help us with navigation. We are constantly scanning the airspace for other aircraft, and James explains that we can talk to passing planes if necessary to determine their intentions.
The flight ends too soon and James manages to land the plane without problems despite the crosswind.
I feel as giddy as a schoolboy. And I already know what I want for Christmas…
For more information about flying lessons with Turweston Flying Club, please visit:turwestonflyingclub.org.uk.
