Foggy, Perry, Corser fly with the Red Arrows

For years, the eyes of Carl Fogarty glinted out from inside his crash helmet striking fear into his rivals. But not today.

It’s like he’s caught a glimpse of his own reflection and the colour is draining from his cheeks as the minutes tick by. Scared is probably the wrong word. Anxious is nearer the truth. And he’s unusually quiet as well. He is used to operating fast, red machines, but he’s never experienced anything quite like this before.

The red thing isn’t a 996. It isn’t even a bike. It’s a £6 million Hawk jet. And the man who doesn’t like flying is preparing to climb inside it. And if you haven’t guessed already, it’s not going to be a normal flight.

Foggy, along with Aprilia World Superbike star Troy Corser and BBC presenter Suzi Perry, have been invited to Lincolnshire’s RAF Scampton as guests of the Red Arrows. They’re here because most of the guys who fly in the world’s most famous display team love bikes, and the three couldn’t pass up the chance.

Even though Foggy is a little apprehensive, he can’t wait to get up there. He said: ” I love to try things like this – and even if I don’t enjoy it at least I will know not to do it again, ” he says.

Corser is more excited at the thought of flying a few feet away from another jet at 400mph, because he is already a trainee pilot. He may only have 10 hours flying time under his belt, but he still feels an affinity with the guys who cut their teeth in Harrier jump-jets and Tornados. He said: ” I love flying, so I’m going to love every minute of it. ”

Only Perry has real reservations. She’s been quiet all morning, taking big gulps when swallowing and disappearing to the loo on a frequent basis. What will she be like upside-down in formation?

Before anyone is let loose in a real aircraft, the trio must go through a strict set of training procedures. First up is a medical to find out if there is anything that might lead to blackouts or a heart attack. With one super-fit racer, a fairly fit ex-racer and a lean former model, there aren’t any problems and all three pass with, er, flying colours. Then it’s time to head for the fitting room.

Any motorcyclist knows the hassle it is to climb into full leathers, boots, gloves, back protector, earplugs… But, believe me, you’ve got it easy compared to an RAF pilot.

Meticulous measurements of everything from head to toe result in a hand-made suit which costs the same as about four sets of Dainese leathers. There’s a carbon-Kevlar helmet and oxygen mask, a Nomex undersuit and Nomex flying suit – all fireproof and made of the same material Formula One drivers wear. Next up is a pair of anti-G trousers – or speed jeans as the pilots call them. These have air bags inside the legs that inflate and squeeze the limbs to force blood back into the body to prevent blackouts during extreme turns. A pair of Cape leather gloves are next. These are designed to provide plenty of grip even when a pilot is sweating his nuts off in a dogfight over the Gulf. Even the boots are specially made, with supple leather uppers and an almost flat sole that makes it virtually impossible to get stones caught in them and transferred to the cockpit.

Apart from the helmet, the life jacket is the most important bit of kit. It could be painted black and given to Batman it has so many gizmos. Rather than the flimsy bit of plastic you see being held up by bored air stewardesses on commercial jets, it is tough Cordura and contains an automatically inflating flotation device, a radio and infra-red locator beacon, flares, a distress marker, a survival blanket and a pouch of fresh water.

When the safety kit comes out, the laughing and joking suddenly stops and our intrepid heroes suddenly come over all serious. The mood turns even more sombre when the instructor starts testing the anti-suffocation valve on the mask, before revealing that the gear would really come into its own if they had to ” eject ” or ” ditch ” . And they thought it was meant to be fun.

All three passengers are praying they won’t find out as they stagger down the stairs to the briefing room, where Red One – known to his mates as Sqdn Ldr Andy Offer – gives them the lowdown. In normal circumstances, the 35-year-old ZX-6R rider would be in awe of the guys in the room, but there is no place for hero-worship when you’re telling someone how to assume a crash position.

His briefing is mostly nonsense unless you’ve had a couple of millions pounds worth of training. An interpreter would be handy as he talks about ” vic ” take-offs (in a v-formation), ” five-four splits ” and ” twizzles ” .

But everyone understands his parting comment: ” Make sure you have the most vital bit of kit on you – an RAF sick bag, which is to be kept in one of the thigh pockets on the trousers. ”

Offer and his crew have a show to put on later in the day and he’s worried about chunder in his aircraft. It’s known in the trade as FOD – Foreign Object Damage – and it can ground jets until it’s all cleaned.

Ten minutes later – once the queue for the loo has subsided – Foggy, Perry and Corser are led out to three of the 10 Hawks waiting on the apron. There’s no check-in or stewardess here. Just a set of steps and a technician, who uses sign language amid the deafening roar of the 12 Rolls-Royce engines.

All three gather around to listen to Flt Lt Myles Garland as he runs through the cockpit controls before each is strapped into their ejector seats. These use booster rockets to launch their occupants clear of a crashing plane. Perry is now looking greener than at any point during the day.

The three jets have a 12-mile radius around the base to play with, at heights of up to 9000 feet. With the obligatory chocks away and cockpits secured, the pilots give the thumbs-up, release the throttles and taxi away.

About a mile in the distance, amid the gloom, six white wing-tip lights flicker before a surge of decibels and the smell of aviation fuel signals that Foggy, Corser and Perry are now part of the Red Arrows.

No sooner have they left the ground, they disappear in the clouds. Most of us will have seen the Red Arrows in action at some time, but only a very select few have experienced it from the air.

Though the public wasn’t made aware of this special event, the gossip quickly spread across the base, and before long a small crowd had gathered to see some of the biggest names in racing career across the sky in three spectacular manouvres.

At one point, all three jets, just feet apart, are put into a dive, trailing the traditional red, white and blue smoke before doing a perfect loop and buzzing the runway.

This formation flying is not just precise – it’s perfect. Mind you, it has to be – there are no gravel traps or tyre fences at 3000 feet.

After 20 minutes of cavorting about in the Lincolnshire sky, Perry is the first back on terra-firma.

She’s looking green, but after a few minutes of Pope-style kissing the ground, the colour starts to flow back into her cheeks. ” That was amazing, but I was so hot that the constant turning started to make me a little ill. But I wasn’t sick so that’s one bonus, ” she says.

Next down is Foggy, who is a lot happier. ” Incredible! ” he enthused. ” I was a bit nervous before I went up, but that’s only because everyone had been winding me up about how bad it was going to be. The pilot and I were talking all the time and the bits he was saying were going to be bad were great – especially that 4G turn. ”

Corser was even more blown away. In fact, if he’d had his way he’d have stayed up there all day, and he only came back because his jet was running out of fuel. ” That was everything I hoped it would be, ” he beamed. ” The planes are amazing. I even had a go at the controls. ”

Even Offer is impressed with Corser, saying: ” You’re in the wrong job. ” Corser jokes: ” After Brands Hatch you might be right! ”

There’s no time for messing about as the planes are already being fuelled up to leave for a show in Kent. As they do that, our crew heads to the canteen for their first food of the day. Well, none of them wanted to tempt fate…