A Classic Morning.

The phone vibrates on the table beside the bed, but to be honest I was already half awake. I have been getting up in the early hours to go flying for more years than I have been driving a car. At first it was to steal a ride beside my father to some outback port, now it is to sit at the front of my own aircraft. Back then there was no subtle alarm to wake me, if I was fortunate my mother would call my name through a crack in the door, but more likely my Dad was the means by which I woke. His less than subtle voice would accompany the bedroom light switching on and the sheets being ripped back from my cocooned form; “Come on boy!”

Today I reach across, silence the alarm and calculate the minutes to the hotel’s pre-arranged wake-up call. It’s a good start as I immediately know which city I’m in and my orientation is underway. This is not always the case and sometimes it takes a moment or two to assess the location of the TV’s red standby lamp and the streetlight’s glow creeping around the curtain’s edge to get my bearings. I know that it’s a frosty Canberra morning outside and I throw my legs over the side of the bed in one action that takes me beyond the point of no return. Through the night, the cold has obviously infiltrated the concrete and now greets my bare feet through the carpet. I can’t wait for the tiled bathroom floor! I metaphorically smack myself over the back of the head at being so precious. In the pursuit of aviation I’ve lived in caravans and literally slept under the wing; these days I have a hotel room and a car that takes me to the airport. Toughen up Princess.........those tiles are cold though.

Showered and shaved, everything is in its place from the night before. The bag is packed, my ‘nav bag’ arranged and the ironed uniform hangs in the wardrobe. I flick the kettle on and sit down to flick through the latest weather on my phone to give me a ‘heads up’ for the day ahead. The cup of tea hardly touches the sides and I zip up my gear and flick the final light switch before checking out and receiving the dreaded question, “Your room number?” I know what city I’m in and wonder why I’m the only one at reception satisfied with that depth of knowledge. One by one the crew filter down to the foyer and greetings are mixed with complaints, conversation and the shuffling of the daily newspaper. All as one we move outside where the frozen morning smacks us in the face like a burst from an icy garden hose. Bags in the back, we take our seats and move off as the personal introductions continue. However, the internal light of the mini-bus remains off and a few of the crew grab those last cherished moments of sleep.

At the airport, we move up the escalators and onto security where there are very few passengers, but delivery men having their newspapers and various goods scanned by the X-Ray. We split from the cabin crew and proceed to briefing where synoptic charts, NOTAMs, flight plans and a state-of-the-art coffee machine greet us. As usual, a chance of fog is forecast at Canberra just before the sun decides to arrive, but otherwise the dominant high pressure system over central Australia is providing fine weather across the nation. If we can escape Canberra without delay, it’s shaping to be a fine day. We order the fuel accordingly and the ground staff let us know that our aircraft is parked on a stand-off bay without an aerobridge, so it’ll be a brisk walk to the aeroplane.

Leaving the warmth of the terminal, I head up the stairs as my partner in this venture walks around the outside and casts a particularly careful eye over the airframe for frost or ice. There is no fog at this stage, but Jack Frost can still visit the aerodynamic surfaces of the Boeing 737-400, or ‘Classic’ on a morning like this. Up the stairs and into the flight deck, I walk into the darkened workspace that has not received its wake-up call. Bringing a cold aircraft to life always reminds me of the scene from Tom Hank’s Apollo 13 movie, where they crawl back into the ‘LEM’ that they’d previously shut down. A maze of switches and circuit breakers, frozen from the night before as my torchlight skips around the panels before a safety check and the battery switch brings the aircraft slightly back to life.

There are fire warnings and circuit breakers to check before the Auxiliary Power Unit (APU) in the tail-cone is brought online. As I turn the switch to do so I can hear the click of relays and watch the flick of gauges as the load on the battery increases. And then the low rumble and slow whistle moves up the aisle from the tail to reassure me that the start cycle is truly underway. It’s a characteristic of smaller jets on quiet mornings that I’ve grown to appreciate. For once the APU has come to life the aircraft has a pulse and a minute later respiration to breathe warm air into the cabin. I carry out some further checks and ensure the galley power and coffee brewers are on their way before I settle into the ‘piloting stuff’.

Align the navigation system, scan the flight deck panels, check the oxygen system, set the radios and program the Flight Management Computer (FMC) and so on. The list seems endless, but after twenty years and two airlines I’m getting the hang of it. The crew now shuffles up the stairs and my partner is back from the walk around where some frost was sighted on the airframe. I cast a glance over my shoulder and the rugged-up engineer is already aloft in the ‘cherry picker’ and spraying de-icing fluid on the wing. I grab out another book as the spraying of this fluid calls for extra procedures and a little more time, but still there is no fog.

Over the next fifteen minutes the performance for the aircraft is calculated with due respect to the variable winds, de-icing procedure and hill off the end of the runway. The magic of the electronic flight bag provides us with the answers after we independently input the data and cross-check our findings. It’s still dark as the passengers cross the tarmac in their coats, gloves and hats, while the air traffic controllers have only just brought their control tower back on line. We verify the latest weather at the airfield against our calculations and trouble the controller to read back our airways clearance.

It’s T minus ten minutes and we brief our departure and various scenarios before running a checklist. The log books and fuel docket rest against the window in a box on the end of a pole designed specifically for the task. The documentation is checked and the refuelling numbers are calculated and verified. As the last passengers are taking their seats, the final load sheet with its weights, trim setting and persons on board is messaged to the aeroplane where the figures are again cross checked and entered into the FMC. We pressurise the hydraulic system, check the flight controls, hand out the last of the paperwork to the cabin manager, shut the door, complete the final checklist. It’s T minus two minutes, let’s go.

The engineer assures us that the airframe is clear of frost through our headsets before we ask for pushback clearance, release the brakes and start the engines. The oil pressure already sits quite high as the cold viscous oil moves through the system awaiting the warmth of combustion elsewhere in the engine. With both engines started and providing electrical power, the APU is shutdown and the brakes are set. The tractor and engineer disconnect and the latter waves us goodbye. There are a few final precautions against icing to conduct before yet another checklist, a request for taxi clearance and we’re underway to the accompaniment of the safety demonstration in the background.

We bump along the taxiway initially as the bottoms of the tyres have a flat spot from sitting at below zero temperatures through the night. As they roll along the taxiway, the rubber warms and the round shape returns as the subtle thumping dissipates. Our red anti-collision beacon has a stroboscopic effect on the scenery around us and still there is no evidence of fog except for the odd wisp around lights on the corners of nearby hangars. The chimes sound on the flight deck to let us know that the cabin is secure and ready for departure just as the clock confirms that the five minute engine warm up period has passed. The final checklist is completed to verify flap and stabiliser settings before we call the tower and let them know we’re ready for take-off. With no other aircraft on frequency and none sighted on the approach to land, we’re cleared for take-off and line up at the end of Runway 35.

Our flashing strobe lights and landing light beams are droll by comparison to the runway lighting that lies ahead. A mix of colours and lines of light illuminate the blackened strip ahead. The thrust levers are brought forward and the engine noise spools up, slowly pushing the aircraft from its stationary pose. The TOGA button is pressed and the thrust levers move further forward to the take-off setting, now driven by their own servo motors as the Boeing gathers genuine momentum.

“80 knots.”...The runway lights flash past.

“V1.”...The hand leaves the thrust levers.

“Rotate.”...The runway lights disappear beneath the nose. 

Another day is underway.............................I love my job.

Nancy Bird Walton Touches Down!

I have just received this image of "Nancy Bird" touching down from my friend and aviation journalist Andrew McLaughlin. It was too good not to share.

Thanks Andrew!

Flying the Airbus A380. (Part One)

By Owen Zupp.

As I post this blog Captains Richard de Crespigny and David Evans will be preparing to complete the flight from Singapore to Sydney they started in November 2010. History now records that a catastrophic engine failure aboard the Airbus A380 ensured that the flight returned to Singapore where it landed safely. Now the time has come after many months, $139 million worth of repairs and 140,000 man-hours for the “Nancy Bird Walton” to come home.  All going to plan she should cross the fence at Sydney Airport around 9:20am tomorrow morning, closing a significant chapter in the aviation chronicles.

Personally, I have had cause to reflect on a day when the A380 had just arrived on the scene and there were far more questions than answers about this giant. Fortunately,  I was able to grab some insights very early in the piece. Here is that story.

                                                         **********

........Long before the first Qantas A380 touched down on Australian soil, its crews were well versed in the ways of the massive Airbus flagship. A pivotal reason for this state of readiness was their training in the state-of-the-art CAE full motion simulator.

Volunteering to climb aboard a flight simulator under the watchful eyes of two senior training captains on a rostered day off is not generally regarded as ‘normal’ behaviour for a commercial pilot. However, when the aircraft involved is the newly arrived Airbus A380 and one’s licence renewal isn’t on the line, this is a case of pleasure rather than pain. And the pleasure began from the moment Qantas Captains Andrew Foxton and Rob Ford opened the door to the massive flight deck of the A380 simulator. These dimensions are afforded by virtue of the actual flight deck being positioned ‘between levels’ with its floor space dictated by the width of the main deck below. It is so large in fact that the physical dimensions of the simulator’s flight deck had to be trimmed aft of the instructor station so that it would fit in a normal simulator bay. This sense of space is further enhanced by the wrap-around visuals that offer 200 degrees of viewing in the horizontal plane and 40 degrees vertically.

Access to the pilot’s seat is effortless without a low slung overhead circuit break panel to dent the forehead and the absence of a control yoke. The side-stick control opens up the area immediately in front of the pilot and this space is utilised by a fold away tray table and computer keyboard. To the side, the window frames extend quite low, much like on the Boeing 757, and offer a welcome addition to the peripheral vision. This, combined with the flight deck’s positioning, gives the A380 an outlook belying its behemoth dimensions. There is not the sense of towering above the runway as from its double-deck compatriot, the 747. Seating position is paramount. This is not purely as a function of outside perspective, but also ensuring that the pilot is comfortably seated with their ‘control’ arm correctly positioned on the armrest to apply the subtle touch to the control stick. From the outset, Rob Ford emphasises that this is an aircraft to be flown by means of “adjustment” rather than large inputs.

The flight panel and centre console speaks loudly of 21st century technology. In addition to the large screens that have replaced dials on all modern types, there are keyboards, mouse buttons and track balls that interface with the multi-function and navigation displays. There is a point and click facility that is more reminiscent of a computer than an aeroplane, but is thoroughly instinctive and logical to use. Settled in, with Andrew Foxton busily programming at the aft instructor station, the time has come to start the four Rolls Royce Trent 972 engines and see what the A380-800 offers when free of Terra Firma.

Flight of the A380.

Lined up on Sydney’s Runway 16 Right for a 560 tonne takeoff weight, Rob Ford enters the key data and the most striking factor is the relatively low speeds for such a large aeroplane at maximum weight. Spanning almost 80 metres, the huge surface area of the A380 wing employs new design concepts and manufacturing processes to ensure that the wing is as ‘clean’ and efficient as possible. This efficiency translates not only into lower takeoff speeds, but compared to the 747-400 it uses 17 per cent less runway to get airborne.

Cleared for takeoff, the thrust levers are brought up to initially stabilise power at 30 per cent. Yes, per cent. These Rolls-Royce engines have for the first time dispensed with engine pressure ratios (EPRs) as a power setting and employed the ‘metric’ equivalent. With power stabilised, the thrust levers are advanced through a series of detented ‘gates’ that are characteristic of Airbus aircraft. Set at maximum power the engines modulate to maintain the thrust with no corresponding movement of the thrust lever beyond its setting in the correct gate. Rumbling along the centreline, the A380 simulator provides all of the sensory cues to reinforce that this aircraft is at its maximum weight. The time to reach flying speed is further lengthened by the strong philosophy of de-rated takeoffs that exist with the type; even at such high weights. The reasons for this are diverse and range from lower maintenance costs to a reduced airport noise footprint. The lower thrust equates to lower fuel flows, lower exhaust gas temperatures (EGTs) and limits the significant gyroscopic loads on the main compressor shafts during rotation. These factors all equate to wear and tear and ultimately cost.

Only 10kt separate V1 and rotate and I tentatively pitch the aircraft towards 12 degrees nose up, note a positive rate of climb and call for the wheels to be raised. It becomes immediately apparent that Rob and Andrew are right on the money in cautioning me against over-controlling. The aircraft requires only small inputs and a degree of anticipation that you would expect of an aircraft of this size and weight. Now is an appropriate time to confess to having had some trepidation about the side-stick. Having only known the Boeing yoke for nearly twenty years in, my sidestick record was not good. One attempt at a friend’s Microsoft Flight Simulator after a Christmas barbeque that went rather badly and resulted in me wanting to bend the stick past the limits of its gimbals.

Fortunately, the real thing is tremendously intuitive and easy to fly. Quite simply, within minutes you develop a feel for the control inputs and the sense of ease in steering this enormous airliner. The fundamental challenge in adapting to the side-stick stemmed from the need to input only enough control to achieve the desired attitude and then RELEASE IT. There is no need to hold the control input in through a manoeuvre, you simply set it and then relax the input to neutral. The A380 will automatically trim and hold that attitude until you input the sidestick again to set a new attitude. As Rob Ford stated from the outset, you “adjust” this aircraft around the sky. Less is definitely more......

For the latest on the flight home, here is an update from my friends at Australian Aviation Magazine.

(Check back here for the conclusion to 'Flying the Airbus A380'.)

For the QANTAS A380 "Nancy Bird Walton" the departure time grows close.

By Owen Zupp.

I have been overwhelmed by the interest in my blog over the past 24 hours. Thank you!

As the hours count down to VH-OQA's departure from Singapore, here is a look inside the A380 simulator. Shortly I'll be posting a story on what it's like to fly and an update on the return of "Nancy Bird", so for the latest on the A380, keep checking back here at www.owenzupp.com.

Thanks again for your tremendous support of this aviation blog.

Safe Flying,

Owen

"Boeing Sun."

A QANTAS Boeing 737 taxies in to the backdrop of a setting sun.

One Night Over Europe.

It’s 4am and I’m writing as usual. The pre-dawn hours are always the quietest and friendliest to put my thoughts into words.  Similarly, these wee hours are often the busiest for long-haul flight crews around the world as their destination draws closer. The galley begins to stir as the cabin crew ready breakfast for the sleeping passengers, while the flight crew begins to gather the latest weather and load an ‘arrival’ into the Flight Management Computer. The long hours of darkness that have passed are now building towards the final, high workload hour of the flight and a timely arrival for the hundreds of people on board.

The smell of coffee pervades the flight deck and the balance of the crew leave their bunks to join the pilots ‘on watch’, as all hands will be on deck for the final stage of the journey. The glow of city lights below offer up a luminous map for orientation and those reliable engines continue to hum, just as they have for hour after hour through the night. This very scene is being enacted on board numerous airliners around the world as I tap the keyboard in the solitude of my ‘study’ and I recall one of the first nights I experienced that scene myself.

After a night in Bangkok, we had weaved our way over the Bay of Bengal, past India, Pakistan and onto Afghanistan where military air traffic was displayed as anonymous blips on the flight panel and ‘Boss Man’ radioed our clearance through the airspace over Kabul. Over Eastern Europe the scratchy transmissions of HF radio had given way to the clearer tones of VHF, although the deep, broad accents still made comprehension difficult, even if the reception was clear. For a boy from the suburbs of Sydney with a lifetime of flying within the Australian coastlines, it was brave new world; but one that I found fascinating.

All through the night I had tracked our progress in an old atlas, progressively moving a small adhesive red arrow along the page. Aside from a tremendous aid for orientation, I found that the atlas brought the journey alive in a way that the moving triangle and magenta line of the ‘Nav Display’ just couldn’t manage. Despite cruising in the darkness, the terrain below seemed to come alive from the coloured topographical maps and the smaller cities which may have lacked any aeronautical significance were often rich in other ways. As my index finger pushed along the page and over borders, I was a student in history and geography as well as a pilot.

But it was as I approached Western Europe that first time that my interest was truly peaked. The nations that had filled my text-books and imagination as a lad were now beginning to slip under the nose of the Boeing 747. Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium and France seemed as though you could throw a net over them and yet it is hard to imagine cramming their combined history into a galaxy, let alone such a small patch of land. To the west a dark strip appeared and the absence of light was no doubt the English Channel where Armadas had once sailed and furious battles aloft had seen Spitfires and Messerschmitts clash. Dawn was still a little way off as the Thames appeared, weaving through the densely lit city of London as we lined up to land at Heathrow.

As the air traffic controller unhurriedly spoke to a multitude of aeroplanes, we began to extend flap and lower the landing gear to comply with speed restrictions and ready for landing. All the while the wonders of automation steered the course and allowed the crew the brain-space to manage the giant Boeing through its final, busy moments of flight before disengaging the autopilot and rejoining the earth.

That night as the joys of jet-lag had me staring at the ceiling in lieu of tedious infomercials, I relived that final hour of flight and the amazing descent time after time. I would prop up on one elbow and flick through the atlas, before lying back down and piecing together the flightpath and its historical tale. But there was something more, this very route had been flown so very differently many years before. As I recalled the glow of our flight panel and its colourful, informative displays, the warmth of the flight deck and the convenience of the coffee cup holders, I thought of young men who never knew such luxury.

These were the crews of Bomber Command in World War Two. Freezing in their deafening Lancasters, Halifaxes, Wellingtons and the like, the sight of the Thames would have meant so very much more. It was the first hint that they might have just defied the odds and survived the night. Even so, their aircraft may have been limping home, battle damaged after the crossed beams had caught them and the anti-aircraft fire brutalised them. Some of the crew may have been bandaged and bleeding, praying for the moment when the wheels again touched down on the soil of Mother England between the blazing paths of FIDO that lit the runway’s edge.

They may well have not seen the Thames or the blacked out city of London, hidden beneath a low cover of English stratus. Feeling their way back home, edging down foot by foot until their base, or any suitable airfield offered them salvation. There was no galley stirring with crew, or omelettes on the hot plate for these young men and I felt a pang of guilt and indebtedness as I recalled the comfortable wonder of my flight. They were so very young, with a chap in his mid-twenties almost qualifying as an old man. At an age when I was concerned about batting orders and Friday nights, these young men were sacrificing their tomorrows. Mere boys at the helm of lumbering machines, launching into the darkened war-torn skies with a poor chance of ever making it back. Those in Bomber Command had a loss rate of over 40 per cent and more than 50,000 young men never came home. One of those was a family friend; Bob Eggins.

I continued to be in awe of that descent into London for my remaining time in international operations. It is truly a remarkable experience to watch such a remarkable portion of our planet unfold before you. However, my wonder was always tinged with a different kind of awe and a great deal of respect after that sleepless night in a South Kensington hotel room. I would take a moment to remember those who had gone before and those who had fallen, for my remarkable journey has only been possible by virtue of their ultimate sacrifice one night over Europe.

In Memory of
Flying Officer Robert Bruce Eggins
467 Squadron RAAF
Killed in Action 4th March 1945
Aged 20.
Lest We Forget.

"Sleepless in Seattle."

                                                         The "Red Barn" and the Museum of Flight.

"A Long Day's Night."

A QANTAS Airbus A380 exits the runway at Melbourne, Australia after the long haul across the Pacific Ocean from Los Angeles.

"Uluru from Above."

The diverse colours of Uluru (Ayers Rock) in Central Australia. The vegetation surrounding 'The Rock' reflects the healthy rainfall in the region this year.

(Image via Matt Hall Racing)

There's Always More in Store for Matt Hall.

As Matt Hall readies himself and his aircraft to set the crowd on fire at this weekend's Formula One Grand Prix in Melbourne, Australia, for some it may be the first time his name has hit the headlines in a little while. However. while all may have seemed quiet at Red Bull Air Race headquarters in 2011, Matt Hall has been doing anything but marking time. The former RAAF fighter pilot has been hard at work on his air displays, launching new ventures and readying his team for the return to air racing.

No Bull.

There were many puzzled looks and unanswered questions when it was announced that the Red Bull Air Race would take a break in 2011 and many of those emanated from the race teams. Out of nowhere the drama and excitement of Formula One air racing was pulled from the headlines and placed into storage in order to, “…fast track the technological advancements currently in the making to improve the already high levels of safety…” and “…revise the main organisation and commercial areas…” Essential issues no doubt, but necessitating the cancellation of a season? Surely, there was more to it.

As I sit with Matt on a quiet afternoon in the NSW Hunter Valley, the adrenalin of screaming engines, towering pylons and max-G turns seems a world away. And so it is, although hopefully not for long. Matt explains that the Red Bull Air Race was like so many aviation undertakings; a great concept, but an average business. The main reason that this occurred was that in a commercial sense, the air race grew much bigger and faster than anyone had foreseen or planned. In a handful of years it had grown from some stock aerobatic aircraft flying a low-level course to highly specialised racing machines entertaining crowded foreshores of the world’s most picturesque cities.

The original business plan saw income being generated by such contributors as sponsors, TV rights, ticket sales and income from the host cities. With Red Bull being synonymous with the air race and plastered over every aeroplane, its brand tended to drown out the message for potential sponsors while television rights suffered the same problems when it came to selling advertising. The income was not quite as forthcoming from some host cities in latter seasons and ticket sales failed to pay their way as well. As they say, “No bucks, no Buck Rogers.”

In terms of technological development, Matt says that there were some key safety measures that had been targeted for implementation. Importantly, a ‘monocoque’ cockpit that would effectively create a singular, immensely strong ‘safety cell’ around the pilot as used in Formula One racing cars. Furthermore, there was a need for seats to be removable, so that pilots could be removed ‘in situ’ from a downed aircraft, minimising potential injuries on extrication. Another safety measure was to relocate the fuel from the wings and into a central fuselage tank.

So it was genuinely reasons of design safety and commercial organisation that drove the air race wheels to a halt, as it was decided that these issues were better rectified in isolation, rather than patched up on the run. For the likes of Matt Hall who had personally invested a significant sum into his new MXS-R race aircraft, the news had an obvious commercial impact. However, personally Matt admits that the year off has been a great chance to catch his breath, spend time with his family and get a real sense of his own company’s business model. Matt explains that, “I ran hard race for eighteen years in the RAAF, only to leave and enter a sprint”. An indication of the demands on an air race pilot was evident when Matt discovered that 212 nights of the previous year were spent in hotel rooms!

With a new CEO at the helm and all business models being examined, the air race may be in limbo, but it is far from gone. Whether it re-emerges as a handful of racing ‘Expo’ flights or a fully fledged Formula One circuit will be founded upon sound business principles this time around. Matt Hall is keen to race once again, but the hiatus of 2011 has offered an opportunity to realign his compass and establish a series of new projects that will continue to complement his air racing when the competition returns.

                                                                Matt Hall's MXS Aircraft at Dusk.

Irons in the Fire.

While the issues with the Red Bull Air Race undoubtedly had an effect on Matt Hall’s plans, they were never going to slow him down. As both an individual and as a brand, he is seen as ‘bankable’ as sponsors like Massel have been there from the outset and are in for the long haul, while recently Aeroshell have come on board, representing a vote in his future direction. Just as he bounced back from skipping the water in the Windsor air race to finish on the podium in Germany, Matt is gearing up to take on new challenges.

One new aspect of his company, ‘Matt Hall Racing’, is addressing corporate clients in the various aspects of the challenges that confront any professional. From the outside looking in, what Matt does in an aeroplane can seem virtually impossible, however he emphasises that, “...it is actually very achievable using the correct strategies and risk management principles”. Additionally, Matt’s proven ability to recover quickly from set-backs on the race circuit or in a combat situation are qualities that can be applied very readily in the corporate sphere as well.  However, the lecture theatre for these addresses are not limited to well lit auditoriums, the sky is literally the limit. Armed with a newly re-engined Extra 300L sporting Matt’s corporate colours, executives can see first hand how Matt practices what he preaches; making the impossible achievable. Still, for those not necessarily in the corporate set, a flight with Matt is not out of reach. He is currently busy developing the opportunity to take some fortunate individuals aloft, “as part of a boutique package which ties in with accommodation and the vineyards here in the Hunter Valley”.

Matt has also been active flying a range of air displays, many of which incorporate the dramatic components of air racing at sea level as well as the attention grabbing manoeuvres such as the hover, tumbling and torque-rolling. The MXS-R race plane is ideal for these displays and remains in race configuration, although Matt has “toned the engine down in the interests of longevity”. For many, the highlight of these displays occurred at the Avalon Air Show in January. With 11,000 views on YouTube, his cockpit camera gave one of the purest insights into the physical demands of his high-G environment. However, the physical demands are equally balanced by the mental challenge of such a performance, from the moment of conception to the execution in front of an awe-struck crowd.

Matt explains that the Avalon display began with a core concept and the music. Firstly, the display, “had to be safe and it had to be spectacular”. Such that it was designed for an engine failure to occur at any point and Matt would be able to land the aircraft where HE wanted. This was achieved by never being below 150 knots when flying below 1,000 feet, which is rather rare in aerobatic displays. For the music, he sought a piece that possessed the correct degree of “build up” in tempo, becoming more aggressive with time. This facilitated Matt to commence with high speed passes initially for the “look at it go” factor, before evolving into more dramatic manoeuvres. Once selected, namely Queen’s “One Vision”, Matt exercised regularly to the music and began putting the pieces in place. The elements included hitting the 4-point roll ‘on beat’, crowd-centre and tail-sliding the MXS-R coincidentally with the music stopping. Such a display is challenging to plan, but phenomenally difficult to execute when synchronised to the crowd’s loudspeakers and the vagaries of wind and weather are added.

Even so, Matt finds the preparation and flying of an air display relatively straightforward compared to air racing. At the heart of each air display are familiar, core components. If conditions call for it, Matt can increase the safety margins of a display by reducing the G-forces or flying it a little higher, with no real effect on the crowd’s experience. In contrast, Matt explains that in air racing, “every race track is different and within that every day is different given the conditions”. Similarly, “if you back off on the G-forces, you can’t physically make the turn and if you fly higher, you lose points”. The is also a huge amount of mental preparation in flying the race circuit and Matt goes into virtual isolation for an hour before the race to clear his head and avoid any distractions. As with all of his endeavours, the correct balance and timing of both mental and the physical components are essential.

On a broader scale, that balance is necessary to keep all of his current undertakings and future ventures in perspective. He has recognised the role of the new social media such as Facebook, Twitter in conjunction with his website, but still maintains the ability to deal competently one-on-one with people from all walks of life. It’s a skill set that serves him well and demonstrates the Matt Hall Racing is a much broader entity than purely Red Bull air-racing; although he looks forward to returning to that challenge too.

                                I have even had the chance to fly with Matt. Great pilot, great bloke.

More in Store.

Whether it is corporate presentations, air show displays or racing on the circuit, the high level of professionalism Matt displays never waivers. Yet for all the pressure, when removed from the cockpit where his focus is singular, he is at heart one of the most affable guys you could ever meet. For my money, that’s another point worth noting; knowing when to switch on and how to switch off.

Perhaps one of the truest indications of Matt’s persona exists in his race number of ‘95’. He could have picked an old squadron number, or the designator of one of his past military fast jets, but he didn’t. He deferred to the savvy judgement of his young son, Mitchell, who thought it appropriate that Dad’s number should be that of “Lightning McQueen”, the ‘rookie that could’ in the original Cars movie. As we all know, that Hollywood blockbuster has just launched a successful sequel and one cannot help but believe that for Matt Hall there is also a lot more in store. Stay tuned.

Make sure that you check out Matt Hall Racing and the 'Impossible Airfield' at the Formula One Grand Prix.

And here's the perfect note to finish on, Matt at work at Avalon.........