I’m not happy when I need to fly somewhere.
I love going to new places and traveling, but I don’t like the security lines, the endless rules, or the cramped and stuffy quarters of the plane. Flying on a commercial airliner is our collective source of complaints.
But it felt different flying in a biplane. When I visited Orlando, I went to Fantasy of Flight, a museum with hangars full of World War I and II airplanes. The museum is owned by one man who just really likes aviation. If you’re ever around Central Florida, I recommend this museum. I’ve gone twice.
For a fee, Fantasy of Flight offers biplane rides through a third-party contractor. My boyfriend and I donned our caps and goggles and rode in a 1929 New Standard D-25, a plane made for joyrides.
I’m used to stuffy passenger cabins where you forget about the elements outside your window once you close the shade. In this open-cockpit plane, the wind whipped my face, and you were forced to notice everything. The views of marshes below, the oily residue from the propeller that coated your face, and the wind that made it too loud to speak (those movies showing people talking in open-cockpit planes are lying).
After a 15-minute ride, I could see why people adore flying and spend so much time and money to do it. (The woman who signed us up for the flight said it costs $10,000 to get a pilot license.) It’s exhilarating. The flight was a far cry from the cramped quarters of those commercial planes we all ride.
It isn’t often that we fly for fun.
Besides, flying in an 84-year-old biplane makes you feel like a time-traveler.