Flying high into the sky

Last week I went for a media flight at 15 Wing.
The idea of the flight was to have reporters and photographers from the local media outlets experience a flight in a CT-156 Harvard II to coincide with 15 Wing's Armed Forces Day taking place today.
When my editors suggested the flight I jumped at the chance. The thought of flying in a small, two seater plane totally excited me. I couldn't wait.
I arrived at the Wing at 6:45 a.m. on Aug. 15 and met with Capt. Dave Smith, the pilot I would be flying with.
He allowed me to sit in on a morning briefing with his students.
This is not like any classroom I have ever been to before. Smith tosses around a football with other instructors as he asks questions about the safety precautions a pilot must go through when power to a display screen goes out.
Every student keeps their eyes on Smith. No one dares look down. It's very informal, but everyone knows the importance of the lesson.
After the class, I am taken away to be fitted into my jumpsuit. A dull green, full body outfit, it looks like the pajamas we use to have when we were kids but without the feet.
I am issued one jumpsuit, two black boots, longjohns, a blue turtle neck, gloves and a knife.
After I put on my gear, I am taken to be fitted for a helmet and harness. Everything fits well. At first there was some concern about my beard and the oxygen mask but the technicians figure a way around it.
Next, I am sent to the ejection seat training. I learn about all the switches and knobs and fix myself into the simulator seat.
Two buckles at my shoulders, one around my waist, two at my hips and two cords around my ankles fasten me to the chair. With the ejection pin pulled, I yank on the loop between my legs and shoot up out of the mock aircraft. Pretty easy I think. I could handle myself if I need to eject, not that I want to.
The second part of the ejection seat training is being harnessed into a mock parachute. This is not fun.
When you are hanging by the straps of the harness, as they slowly dig into your groin area, you realize that you hope you never have to parachute out of one of these planes.
Everything is a go. I have demonstrated to the technicians that, if need be, I can successfully eject out of a plane and work a parachute. I am only one step away from flying in among the clouds.
I have to take a medical.
I don't pass.
I can't fly.
The doctor heard a little wheeze in my chest and was concerned that it could effect my breathing during the flight.
Devastated, I am sent home, but with hope. I can take my medical again next week and if the wheeze is gone I can fly.
On Thursday I go back and pass my medical. It's time to fly.
Friday morning I meet with Capt. Jean-Francois Dupont, my pilot for the flight. The problem this time is weather. It has been raining all morning. My flight gets pushed back, a 1/2 hour, then an hour and then two.
I am reading some e-mails when Dupont comes in telling me to gear up because we are cleared for a take off.
I am sitting on the runway all strapped in, oxygen mask on. We are the next plane to take off.
This is when the terror sets in. What am I doing? This plane is so small. My buckles feel loose. Is oxygen even coming through this mask?
Without a second thought, Dupont guns it along the runway and we are in the sky. Everything slowly gets smaller and then disappears as we pass through the rain clouds above Moose Jaw and see blue skies. It's incredible and my fears are gone.
We are in a formation flight and begin to do turns and fly overs. My stomach flips once.
Dupont performs rolls, loops and a vertical roll. The pressure of the G-force pushes me deep into my seat.
We reach four Gs and I pull out the vomit bag. I don't need it as I just breathe deeply and close my eyes for a few minutes.
The flight lasts about 45 minutes and we circle 15 Wing to begin our descent. Within minutes we are touching down and pulling alongside the other Harvard planes.
It was a incredible experience, one that I will not soon forget.

Colin Dewar can be reached at 691-1263.