What’s your worst flight experience?
Posted in North America, United States on March 18th, 2010 by Andy Jarosz – 5 CommentsDespite the statistics that show how safe flying really is, those who fly often enough will have some stories to tell. The vast majority of us will never experience the trauma of an actual air crash, but we will eventually travel on a flight where we are glad to get out in one piece.
I have experienced aborted take-offs, missed approaches and even a bizarre episode in Detroit where the pilot of a 747 had to turn the plane to face the right way to allow the fierce wind to help start the engines (I don’t get it either; I’d rather he hadn’t told us). One flight however stands out for me, even though it’s now ten years since it took place.
We had spent a week at the Grand Canyon and were flying on to Las Vegas on our way to Salt Lake City. The plane was a little 30 seater, and we had seats in row 1. In the front seats on the other side of the aisle were a middle-aged Japanese couple, who fell asleep within moments of boarding the flight.
We were in trouble soon after we became airborne. We hit our first air pocket early in our ascent. There’s a horrible sensation you get when the plane suddenly rises on a thermal. It’s quite distinct from the normal ascent, and as you know that what comes up must come down, there’s a sharp fall to come. Sure enough, moments after the lift came the drop. Very much like a rollercoaster, we fell for a couple of seconds and then we were heading up again, stomachs in mouths.
And so it continued. Sudden lift, inevitably followed by free falling. An unpleasant cycle that that repeated relentlessly for the hour and a quarter of the flight. Occasionally the flight attendant would smile at us. I grimaced back, all the while thinking “yeah, I know, I’m an wimp. It’s ok for you to smirk. You do this every day”. What made us feel even more inadequate was that in contrast to us feeling sick and hanging on grimly to the seat for the duration of the flight, the adjacent Japanese couple did not stir once. They must have been drugged up to the eyeballs. It’s their only excuse, I thought.
So much for trying to get a glimpse of the Grand Canyon from the air. Landing at Las Vegas I couldn’t wait to get off and smell the fresh air, thankful to have emerged unscathed.
Before collecting our bags we did learn one thing that made us feel a whole lot better. We hadn’t looked round at our fellow passengers throughout the entire flight. If we had, I would have felt far less of a wimp as a result. The flight attendant confided to us once in the baggage hall that the four of us in the front row had been the only ones on the plane not have made use of our air sickness bags (I’m assuming she didn’t include herself and the flight crew). I’m not the best flyer, and will think twice before heading over the Grand Canyon at the time of day where the thermals work wonders for hot air balloons and gliders, but not so much for light aircraft.

















