At the time, making this flight seemed quite normal, nothing out  of the ordinary and certainly I didn’t have any qualms about hopping into the passenger’s seat for an hour or so.

But later, and especially after I heard about my pilot crashing into a farmers fence while making an emergency landing a few weeks later, I definitely questioned my sanity. But all went well on my flight and I lived to tell this tale. So maybe it was not such a risk after all.

The fight had been scheduled to depart and hour or so earlier, but an extended wait for the winds to settle meant that we left the country airstrip about an hour before sunset.

This was my first flight in a microlite aircraft and it was not what I had imagined.

At my back was what seemed like a small lawn mower engine with a propeller attached and I was squashed up behind my pilot in something that resembled a child’s booster seat. Everything was squished just to get my seat belt on and as there was no room for my legs, they hung over the sides with nothing between me and the ground about a thousand feet below, other than a $2.50 pair of plastic supermarket thongs (flip-flops) dangling precariously on my feet.

But this was all forgotten as we neared the coast where I could see in the distance,  the River Murray making it’s entrance into the sea. This is what I had driven down to Adelaide to see so I focussed intently of every single moment. I wanted to absorb it all so that in years to come, I would still be able to smell the fumes and feel the vibrations of our power source a few inches behind me.

This was how life was meant to feel.

Gradually we descended, eventually flying low over the merging or river water with sea water then turning right to head towards the setting sun, waving to fishermen below us as we passed overhead.

I was mesmerised by everything that was happening. This was exhilarating and for a fleeting moment madness overcame me as I imagined owning such a machine and doing this whenever I wanted.

But no, regular maintenance and study were not my thing and both would be needed to say aloft. So the moment of madness ended and I was agog again.

Then, all too soon, as I tried to remember every hue of the sunset, we were turning away from this adventure and heading back to our point of departure and a gentle landing on solid ground again.

The whole flight had been surreal.

It was amazing, mind blowing and way too much to take in all at once.

But I can see why people live for the next adrenalin rush.

This had certainly been that for me and now, feet firmly back on Mother Earth, I am exhilarated and feeling so very alive.

Wow. When can I do this again?