The sky is not the limit
The grass on the private airstrip was crisp with frost and moisture hung on our breath. The mountains surrounding our beautiful location in northeastern Spain were bathed in the orange glow of dawn, which gave a false sense of warmth. I found a camera position at the far end of the runway and watched the team prepare the Skycar for its first European test flight.
Neil Laughton, the pilot and expedition leader, eased the throttle forward and the 140-horsepower Yamaha engine reached its maximum revolutions. The thrust from the propeller filled the flexible wing with air and this extraordinary machine came hurtling down the runway towards me. It looked heavy as Neil ignored the predetermined abort point and bravely pushed on towards the end of the strip, where the ground dropped away steeply to the valley below.
We all stood motionless, filled with a sense of foreboding, as the Skycar disappeared from view. But then, after what seemed like an eternity, the wing came back into sight, and we gazed in relief as the car made its groundbreaking flight. Neil climbed to an altitude of more than 400 metres and completed a perfect 20-minute circuit before executing a controlled, if rather heavy, landing.
Defining moment
It was a defining moment for the Skycar Expedition 2009. Until then, the Skycar had only flown a few short, low-level hops. Neil, myself and the team had spent two years planning the ultimate road test. Only now did we know that our journey – from London to Tombouctou via the Sahara’s ‘Empty Quarter’ – was possible.
Nevertheless, in the event of an accident, we were going to need a support team that could locate and reach the crash site in the desert quickly. Motorbikes were the answer. Riders Andy Wiggins and Jon Hall decided to use two lightweight and powerful KTM 450 EXC bikes. I had a mad desire to also ride the European leg of the journey and opted for the larger KTM 640 Adventure bike. Although I knew the 640 might be a little heavy in the sand, it would eat up the miles through France and Spain.
For months, we had deliberated on what support vehicles should accompany the Skycar and motorbikes on the 10,000-kilometre journey. We had to move 12 people and all of the equipment required to sustain life in both the cold of the European winter and the heat of the Saharan spring. We needed capacity for all of the Skycar spares and those of the vehicles that would make up the convoy.
Most importantly, we had to carry adequate fuel and water for the desert leg. It was impossible to calculate with any precision how many days it would take to cross the Empty Quarter. In the end, we decided to take enough supplies for 14 days.
In order to transport all of this liquid and equipment, we settled on two large vehicles as our load carriers. Our largest truck was a 28-tonne MAN X75. Ben Gott had driven this beast as support during two Dakar rallies. The 12.2-litre, 600-horsepower diesel engine transferred drive via a 32-speed gearbox to all eight wheels, and with differential locks on all four axles, we hoped it would be unstoppable in all conditions.
Perhaps the MAN X75’s best feature was its ‘drop body’. The whole box body could be craned onto the ground in a matter of minutes for easy access to all of our kit at the end of each day. Plastic storage boxes kept everything reasonably dust-free, and metal racks held the containers in place.
The team mechanic, Toby Kilner, was adamant that a Mercedes Unimog would complement the MAN as a backup load carrier. He found a good example within budget just a few months before departure. This became our mobile workshop, making us self-sufficient wherever we were. For major repairs, we had a compressor, a generator and a welding kit on the larger truck, as well as ample room for 30 tyres, a very long list of spare parts, 2,600 litres of fuel and 1,500 litres of water.
It’s a breeze
Europe threw every kind of weather at us during the first leg of the expedition. Riding on sealed roads without much physical exertion can be decidedly cold. I wore five base and fleece layers underneath a waterproof Hein Gericke bike jacket, and was particularly thankful for my heated handgrips, which were wired to the bike battery. Together with winter bike gloves, the handgrips kept the cold at bay as we climbed into the Pyrenees in temperatures of –9°C. Neil and Gilo Cardozo, the Skycar’s designer, were equally exposed to the elements in the open cockpit. They took a more traditional approach, wearing Irvin sheepskin flying jackets and adding lightweight waterproofs on wet days.
Although the mountains on the south coast of Spain were spectacular, they exposed me to frightening winds that nearly blew me off the road on numerous occasions. Apart from staying alive, there was one other thought that continued to go through my mind. How was Neil going to fly a barely tested car across the Strait of Gibraltar in gusting winds?
Tarifa has long been considered to be the windsurfing capital of Europe. Hundreds of wind turbines provide another subtle clue that this could be the worst possible take-off site for a flight to Africa. But with few other options available to us, the waiting game began for suitable weather. I had already crossed over to North Africa with half of the team to find a landing site in the city of Ceuta. The small heliport refused us permission to land, so our only other option was an unoccupied army parade ground in the mountains above the town.
After three stressful days, an early morning provided the only calm opportunity to make the intercontinental flight. Following some minor adjustments to the wing, Neil’s first attempt went horribly wrong, with the car swinging violently like a pendulum beneath the canopy. In an attempt to save himself, Neil unbuckled his harness, hauled himself half out of the car and prepared to jump from a height of 30 metres into the sea. Miraculously, this weight shift turned the car into the wind and back towards the shore. Neil regained control and landed safely.
We were on a steep learning curve, but after further adjustments, Neil summoned up his courage and took off for a second attempt 25 minutes later. This time, he was successful, but our problems weren’t over – the army had now marched onto the parade ground. Neil flew across the Strait of Gibraltar and focused on the heliport as the only landing option. Circling the town, he made a pan-pan call (a radio signal used to signify urgency – one step down from a mayday call) and dumped the Skycar in the middle of the helipad. The rear tyre exploded on impact, but otherwise this tough little car was ready for Africa. All we had to do was negotiate Neil’s release from police custody.
Desert fly-drive
The dunes of Erg Chebbi provided the first chance to test our vehicles in the sand. We then pressed on down the West African coast into Mauritania. From Nouadhibou, we left behind any hint of tarmac and began what promised to be the real adventure in the Sahara’s Empty Quarter.
Desert flying and driving were exciting, exhausting and dehydrating in temperatures that now reached 40°C. An accident far from help was always a fear. We partially alleviated this concern by wearing full body armour on the bikes. This protection included custom knee braces that I now consider as essential as my Shark motocross helmet when riding off-road. Drinking from a personal hydration system via a mouthpiece meant I always had three litres of water on tap while on the move.
Each day was a glorious but blisteringly hot experience. With tyres deflated to less than one bar and throttles wide open to help float across the sand, our convoy gradually headed south. Inevitably, there were some spectacular wipeouts and it wasn’t just the Skycar that was airborne; unseen bumps even lifted the MAN X75 clear of the ground. Soft sand frequently had the trucks bogged up to their axles. Some serious spadework as well as aluminium sand mats were needed to get them on the move again.
Each day ended with a meal cooked in our treasured potjie: essentially a cast-iron cauldron with ample capacity to feed the whole team; I’ve used potjies for many years on African journeys. Once it’s boiling, the potjie is very economical on firewood. This makes it perfect for a vegetable stir-fry or for simmering a camel stew for hours.
We relied on both Michelin and Institut Geographique National maps and also a Garmin GPS to guide us. We eventually arrived in Tombouctou 43 days after departure with fuel and water to spare. We agreed that we would have done few things differently, but radios with longer range would certainly have helped our convoy driving.
Was the Skycar Expedition the ultimate road test? Well, I will leave you to decide.
Flight of fancy: Going off-road – upwards
Gilo Cardozo had a childhood dream of building a flying car, but his paramotor business took up all of his time. Eventually, however, the combination of inspiration from a successful trip to the Mount Everest region to break the world paramotor altitude record with Bear Grylls, and relentless bullying from Neil Laughton, made building the Skycar a priority.
The flying car concept had failed in the past due to overly ambitious technology that either resulted in unwieldy folding fixed wings or ludicrously expensive turbofan engines. Gilo’s increasing experience with flexible wings provided the answer: a lightweight car hanging beneath a material canopy.
He based his design on the Nytro, an existing two-seat sand buggy manufactured by Rage Motorsport. The transverse engine had to be turned through 90 degrees to get a reliable and efficient drive to the rear-mounted propeller. A new gearbox was then able to divert the power to the wheels when the car was in drive mode. The theory behind this sounded straightforward, but it took considerable ingenuity to make it all work and still pass a Ministry of Transport test.
We needed a specially crafted wing to cope with the additional weight, G-forces and turbulence that would potentially be encountered on our journey. Gilo’s friend Mike Campbell-Jones rose to the challenge and made a 42-square-metre wing using the latest reflex aerofoil technology that could carry 700 kilograms in a 6G turn. The cells and leading edge were also sufficiently rigid to allow
speeds of up to 120km/h.
Tim Maw was deputy leader of the Skycar Expedition. He has spent several years leading safaris in Africa, including a journey from London to Cape Town. Tim has also jetskied around Britain with Neil Laughton and ridden motorbikes from London to Kathmandu. For more information, visit www.skycarexpedition.com
Ten of the best
With the Skycar spending most of the expedition on the ground as a conventional vehicle, the drivers and support team needed gear that would be suited to the desert conditions of North Africa – including the motorcycles. Here’s a selection of items the team employed during the long days driving – and taking to the skies – over the Sahara
Don’t forget…
… …a football. We had 50 to give to African villages for the charity Alive and Kicking. Each one carried an AIDS and malaria awareness message. Nothing gets you a better welcome than a game of footie
Neil Laughton, the pilot and expedition leader, eased the throttle forward and the 140-horsepower Yamaha engine reached its maximum revolutions. The thrust from the propeller filled the flexible wing with air and this extraordinary machine came hurtling down the runway towards me. It looked heavy as Neil ignored the predetermined abort point and bravely pushed on towards the end of the strip, where the ground dropped away steeply to the valley below.
We all stood motionless, filled with a sense of foreboding, as the Skycar disappeared from view. But then, after what seemed like an eternity, the wing came back into sight, and we gazed in relief as the car made its groundbreaking flight. Neil climbed to an altitude of more than 400 metres and completed a perfect 20-minute circuit before executing a controlled, if rather heavy, landing.
Defining moment
It was a defining moment for the Skycar Expedition 2009. Until then, the Skycar had only flown a few short, low-level hops. Neil, myself and the team had spent two years planning the ultimate road test. Only now did we know that our journey – from London to Tombouctou via the Sahara’s ‘Empty Quarter’ – was possible.
Nevertheless, in the event of an accident, we were going to need a support team that could locate and reach the crash site in the desert quickly. Motorbikes were the answer. Riders Andy Wiggins and Jon Hall decided to use two lightweight and powerful KTM 450 EXC bikes. I had a mad desire to also ride the European leg of the journey and opted for the larger KTM 640 Adventure bike. Although I knew the 640 might be a little heavy in the sand, it would eat up the miles through France and Spain.
For months, we had deliberated on what support vehicles should accompany the Skycar and motorbikes on the 10,000-kilometre journey. We had to move 12 people and all of the equipment required to sustain life in both the cold of the European winter and the heat of the Saharan spring. We needed capacity for all of the Skycar spares and those of the vehicles that would make up the convoy.
Most importantly, we had to carry adequate fuel and water for the desert leg. It was impossible to calculate with any precision how many days it would take to cross the Empty Quarter. In the end, we decided to take enough supplies for 14 days.
In order to transport all of this liquid and equipment, we settled on two large vehicles as our load carriers. Our largest truck was a 28-tonne MAN X75. Ben Gott had driven this beast as support during two Dakar rallies. The 12.2-litre, 600-horsepower diesel engine transferred drive via a 32-speed gearbox to all eight wheels, and with differential locks on all four axles, we hoped it would be unstoppable in all conditions.
Perhaps the MAN X75’s best feature was its ‘drop body’. The whole box body could be craned onto the ground in a matter of minutes for easy access to all of our kit at the end of each day. Plastic storage boxes kept everything reasonably dust-free, and metal racks held the containers in place.
The team mechanic, Toby Kilner, was adamant that a Mercedes Unimog would complement the MAN as a backup load carrier. He found a good example within budget just a few months before departure. This became our mobile workshop, making us self-sufficient wherever we were. For major repairs, we had a compressor, a generator and a welding kit on the larger truck, as well as ample room for 30 tyres, a very long list of spare parts, 2,600 litres of fuel and 1,500 litres of water.
It’s a breeze
Europe threw every kind of weather at us during the first leg of the expedition. Riding on sealed roads without much physical exertion can be decidedly cold. I wore five base and fleece layers underneath a waterproof Hein Gericke bike jacket, and was particularly thankful for my heated handgrips, which were wired to the bike battery. Together with winter bike gloves, the handgrips kept the cold at bay as we climbed into the Pyrenees in temperatures of –9°C. Neil and Gilo Cardozo, the Skycar’s designer, were equally exposed to the elements in the open cockpit. They took a more traditional approach, wearing Irvin sheepskin flying jackets and adding lightweight waterproofs on wet days.
Although the mountains on the south coast of Spain were spectacular, they exposed me to frightening winds that nearly blew me off the road on numerous occasions. Apart from staying alive, there was one other thought that continued to go through my mind. How was Neil going to fly a barely tested car across the Strait of Gibraltar in gusting winds?
Tarifa has long been considered to be the windsurfing capital of Europe. Hundreds of wind turbines provide another subtle clue that this could be the worst possible take-off site for a flight to Africa. But with few other options available to us, the waiting game began for suitable weather. I had already crossed over to North Africa with half of the team to find a landing site in the city of Ceuta. The small heliport refused us permission to land, so our only other option was an unoccupied army parade ground in the mountains above the town.
After three stressful days, an early morning provided the only calm opportunity to make the intercontinental flight. Following some minor adjustments to the wing, Neil’s first attempt went horribly wrong, with the car swinging violently like a pendulum beneath the canopy. In an attempt to save himself, Neil unbuckled his harness, hauled himself half out of the car and prepared to jump from a height of 30 metres into the sea. Miraculously, this weight shift turned the car into the wind and back towards the shore. Neil regained control and landed safely.
We were on a steep learning curve, but after further adjustments, Neil summoned up his courage and took off for a second attempt 25 minutes later. This time, he was successful, but our problems weren’t over – the army had now marched onto the parade ground. Neil flew across the Strait of Gibraltar and focused on the heliport as the only landing option. Circling the town, he made a pan-pan call (a radio signal used to signify urgency – one step down from a mayday call) and dumped the Skycar in the middle of the helipad. The rear tyre exploded on impact, but otherwise this tough little car was ready for Africa. All we had to do was negotiate Neil’s release from police custody.
Desert fly-drive
The dunes of Erg Chebbi provided the first chance to test our vehicles in the sand. We then pressed on down the West African coast into Mauritania. From Nouadhibou, we left behind any hint of tarmac and began what promised to be the real adventure in the Sahara’s Empty Quarter.
Desert flying and driving were exciting, exhausting and dehydrating in temperatures that now reached 40°C. An accident far from help was always a fear. We partially alleviated this concern by wearing full body armour on the bikes. This protection included custom knee braces that I now consider as essential as my Shark motocross helmet when riding off-road. Drinking from a personal hydration system via a mouthpiece meant I always had three litres of water on tap while on the move.
Each day was a glorious but blisteringly hot experience. With tyres deflated to less than one bar and throttles wide open to help float across the sand, our convoy gradually headed south. Inevitably, there were some spectacular wipeouts and it wasn’t just the Skycar that was airborne; unseen bumps even lifted the MAN X75 clear of the ground. Soft sand frequently had the trucks bogged up to their axles. Some serious spadework as well as aluminium sand mats were needed to get them on the move again.
Each day ended with a meal cooked in our treasured potjie: essentially a cast-iron cauldron with ample capacity to feed the whole team; I’ve used potjies for many years on African journeys. Once it’s boiling, the potjie is very economical on firewood. This makes it perfect for a vegetable stir-fry or for simmering a camel stew for hours.
We relied on both Michelin and Institut Geographique National maps and also a Garmin GPS to guide us. We eventually arrived in Tombouctou 43 days after departure with fuel and water to spare. We agreed that we would have done few things differently, but radios with longer range would certainly have helped our convoy driving.
Was the Skycar Expedition the ultimate road test? Well, I will leave you to decide.
Flight of fancy: Going off-road – upwards
Gilo Cardozo had a childhood dream of building a flying car, but his paramotor business took up all of his time. Eventually, however, the combination of inspiration from a successful trip to the Mount Everest region to break the world paramotor altitude record with Bear Grylls, and relentless bullying from Neil Laughton, made building the Skycar a priority.
The flying car concept had failed in the past due to overly ambitious technology that either resulted in unwieldy folding fixed wings or ludicrously expensive turbofan engines. Gilo’s increasing experience with flexible wings provided the answer: a lightweight car hanging beneath a material canopy.
He based his design on the Nytro, an existing two-seat sand buggy manufactured by Rage Motorsport. The transverse engine had to be turned through 90 degrees to get a reliable and efficient drive to the rear-mounted propeller. A new gearbox was then able to divert the power to the wheels when the car was in drive mode. The theory behind this sounded straightforward, but it took considerable ingenuity to make it all work and still pass a Ministry of Transport test.
We needed a specially crafted wing to cope with the additional weight, G-forces and turbulence that would potentially be encountered on our journey. Gilo’s friend Mike Campbell-Jones rose to the challenge and made a 42-square-metre wing using the latest reflex aerofoil technology that could carry 700 kilograms in a 6G turn. The cells and leading edge were also sufficiently rigid to allow
speeds of up to 120km/h.
Tim Maw was deputy leader of the Skycar Expedition. He has spent several years leading safaris in Africa, including a journey from London to Cape Town. Tim has also jetskied around Britain with Neil Laughton and ridden motorbikes from London to Kathmandu. For more information, visit www.skycarexpedition.com
Ten of the best
With the Skycar spending most of the expedition on the ground as a conventional vehicle, the drivers and support team needed gear that would be suited to the desert conditions of North Africa – including the motorcycles. Here’s a selection of items the team employed during the long days driving – and taking to the skies – over the Sahara
Start the slideshow (10 pictures)
Don’t forget…
… …a football. We had 50 to give to African villages for the charity Alive and Kicking. Each one carried an AIDS and malaria awareness message. Nothing gets you a better welcome than a game of footie
 |
