The cockpit of dreams: for business or pleasure, little compares

Chief Executive, The, March, 2004 by Fred Mackerodt

The field of sprouting green turf comes up faster and faster, filling the windshield of the downwardly hurtling Bell Jetranger to the point where I can begin to distinguish the individual blades of grass. The instructor's voice booms louder and louder in my headset: "Collective! Collective!"

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I tighten my sweaty grip on the bat-sized handle on my left and pull it upward. The 33-foot blades swinging overhead at a governed 400 rpm change pitch and bite into the air, braking the descent and preventing a half-million dollars worth of aluminum from crashing into the ground. But as I arrest the descent, the 1,800-pound helicopter veers wildly to the right, a torque reaction to the biting of the rotor.

"Left pedal! Left pedal!"

I jam my left foot against the pedal, changing the pitch on the 5-foot vertical rotor on the end of the tail boom that prevents the helicopter from spinning like a pinwheel. But by now the bright red machine is swinging to all four points of the compass like a giant Christmas ornament blowing in the wind.

"Cyclic! Cyclic! Small movements! Small movements!"

I jerk the stick between my knees and with each jerk the helicopter instantly responds, adding to the chaos.

As some intrepid executives can attest, flying a helicopter is like nothing else in the world. Bob Lutz, the 70-year-old vice chairman of General Motors and dean of the automotive industry, commutes occasionally to and from work in an MD-500E turbine helicopter, "gazing with satisfaction," he says, "at the snarled traffic below." Lutz says it is his second favorite possession, right behind his L-39 ex-Soviet jet.

I have flown multiengine aircraft for 2,000 hours and I can tell you that piloting a helicopter is completely different and uniquely rewarding. Making one hover in place has been likened to balancing your feet on a greased beach ball. That's not far from the truth.

With a fixed-wing aircraft, the pilot basically lets the plane do its thing, merely guiding it along the way. Helicopters are inherently unstable and your hands, feet and mind are actively engaged keeping the machine in the air every second of the flight. You are at one with the machine. Rather than climb into a helicopter, you strap it on. When you finally get the feel of it, you begin to control the machine with your will. It becomes as much a part of you as your arms and your legs.

My instructor prides himself on being hands-off: He won't intervene until the absolute last minute to avert a disaster. It's my first afternoon flying his Bell Jetranger and I am testing his resolve.

"I've got it," he says, finally taking the controls. Under his control, the helicopter begins to float serenely in place three feet above the ground, its turbine whirring steadily at 33,000 rpm behind my left ear. "Loosen up for a few minutes," he exhales, "and we'll try it again."

What does it take to learn to fly a helicopter? By Federal law, 40 hours of instruction, including 10 hours solo, without an instructor's sure hands. In reality, it requires 60 hours or more--in some cases, much more. All this training costs anywhere from $160 to over $1,000 per hour, depending on the kind of equipment you'd like to learn on (see sidebar, right) and who's doing the teaching.

Where to start? Do an Internet search for "helicopter instruction" and you will see a slew of possibilities. When you find a source, interview the prospective instructor as you would a psychiatrist. Believe me, it can get very personal in that small cockpit.

When you earn your license and start hitting the skies, you'll join an exclusive group. In addition to Lutz, the membership includes Michael Bloomberg, the media baron and mayor of the city of New York. He's flown helicopters since the 1970s and currently pilots a state-of-the-art Agusta 109E. Wayne Huizenga, the owner of the Miami Dolphins, founder of Waste Management and former CEO of Blockbuster Entertainment, has been known to commute by helicopter between his office in Fort Lauderdale and his personal country club. The Floridian, up the coast in Stuart.

Among the Hollywood set. Clint Eastwood has flown helicopters for years and is a vocal promoter of rotary-winged flight. Harrison Ford owns and flies both fixed-wing aircraft and helicopters.

And then there are the helicopter pilots you don't know, like my 67-year-old friend Jerry Qwint. A retired surgeon and director of North Jersey Bank who recently got his license, Jerry credits flying his Robinson R44 with taking years off his life. "I was becoming an old man when I began flying helicopters," he says. "Now all that has changed." You have to be there to understand.

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Never been in a helicopter and want to try it? Charter one on your next business trip, say when you're flying into an airport that serves New York City and you want to go directly to one of the three heliports in Manhattan. TAG Aviation specializes in helicopters, and Kevin Keith is the man to talk to. He's at 800-331-1930.