In the red lady's lap
2007-04-25
SHE is a real lady, a lady in red. She does not chatter with weaver birds, she soars with the eagles.
And I was taken onto her lap. Cushioned in her belly. Strapped in her feathers, my head between her struts. My hair covered in the Red Devil’s helmet and my eyes in the Snoopy goggles of old.
Also in an open cockpit in front of me, the proper pilot sat snug. I had my own set of instruments on which I could see how fast and how high we were flying.
I could see the pilot’s face in a mirror. He seemed so confident, at ease, so why should I not be?
Between my legs a lever moved as Simon Springthorpe steered the 1942 Boeing Stearman above the Malmesbury farms. Not very ladylike - that “keep your legs apart” position.
But who cares. Orville and his brother Wilbur Wright also had other things on their mind when they took their first man-made bird up into the skies above America nearly a century ago.
But while the inventors were worried about how long they would stay airborne, I could simply sit back and enjoy the flight.
Simon stood proud in the reflection of the polished nose cone as I arrived on Diemerskraal farm.
“Tin Lizzie” shone in the morning sun, her red coat adorned with golden stars.
For one fleeting moment I thought, what are you getting yourself into, Malané?
But that moment soon passed when I saw the red lady smiling at me. At least, that’s what I thought she did.
Simon’s son Rory jumped onto a lower wing, and like a true gentleman held out his hand to hoist the slightly apprehensive passenger into the seat.
He tightened the straps over my shoulders, fastened the helmet under my chin, and explained the two-way radio procedure.
And then the lady came to life, warming her muscles, running down a farm track on high-heeled shoes, throwing her wings to the wind, and lifting her face into the blue yonder.
The Sand River passed under her belly. So did vineyards, wheat fields, citrus, the Morkel family farmstead and the highway to Wellington.
Birds made way for us. My instrument panel read 1200ft and the airspeed 100mpu. The clouds beckoned.
I realised I was not dressed properly. Jeans and a T-shirt is not appropriate for mystique among the eagles.
I should have donned a champagne-coloured, flowing Gatsby-style frock, with pearls and a silk scarf that could billow in the wind.
When I was younger I had always wanted to live in the times of ox wagons and cowboys. Not that day - then I realised I would have been right at home in the nostalgic days of early flight.
Tin Lizzie after all, was moulded and coached from the Boeing factory only two years after the introduction in America of ladies’ sheer stockings!
This red lady might be a vintage, but she has muscle. She generates 450 horse power, although she needs to use only a fraction of that to bolt from her stable and gallop the skies like a young filly.
Built as a World War 11 trainer, Lizzie mothered 37 000 pilots in the United States. After her duties were no longer required for training, she put 10 000 hours on her clock spraying crops in America.
An Israeli businessman brought her to South Africa in 1986 and used her for team building for ten years.
Two years ago she flew into Simon's hanger. She gave up her original yellow colours and donned a red frock, representing the Boland’s maturing red wine.
Supported by Tyger Valley LandRover, Tin Lizzie now dusts her coat for ride and drives, special occasions, team building, product launches and movie shoots, and also for birthday parties, weddings, anniversaries and Father's Day treats.
She charges R2 700 an hour, but will gladly make four flights during that time.
Call Simon at 084-627-2232 or send him an e-mail at simons@vodamail.co.za - that’s if he is not sitting on the lady’s lap, with his head in the clouds.
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