The DeHavilland Rapide was sitting on the Tarmac waiting for its pilot to take eight passengers for a ride. Who could refuse a ride into history for a few bucks? Somehow the British seem to get a sense of quality into their airplanes.

The Rapide fuselage was painted a cream on top and a dark green on the bottom. There was a nice pinstripe separating the colors. The dual wings were left an efficient silver.

The shapes of the Rapide evoke so many images from the past. The wings are Spitfire elliptical in planform with an unbelievably thin airfoil. A few struts and wires define the interstitial spaces. A beautifully shaped motor cowlings also include the landing gear assembly, reminding one strongly of the 1930's Comet racers.

The single pilot greenhouse glazing forms a smooth aerodynamic nose for the fuselage with no vertical or sloped windshield. A plywood box fuselage reminds one of the Mosquito fighter/bomber yet to be designed at the time that the Rapide was.

The Rapide was produced in large numbers and seems to have been the Britich equivalent of the Douglas DC-3, a dependable twin, smaller than the American counterpart because of the smaller British airspace. You enter the taildragging Rapide from the rear and find the nearest seat. Seating begins from the rear to prevent inadvertent noseover from having too many people in the front.

The cabin is aerodynamically designed for the seated passenger to reduce frontal area, so the very narrow aisle is navigated while you are bent over. Once you are seated, however, the personal space is similar to a modern jet. By jet standards the viewing window is huge. Heavier passengers have been asked to sit in the rear for better balance.

The pilot has navigated the four inch space between the front two seats, has strapped into the greenhouse, and has turned around to advise of emergency procedures. He show us that there are two round areas in the cabin ceiling which have zippers around them in the fabric to serve as emergency exits.

The inverted Cirrus (?) engines are fired up one at a time. They are very quiet considering that there is only a thin layer of plastic or plywood and fabric between you and the engine on your side. The thin wingtip, which extends unbraced beyond the last pair of struts, vibrates with enough excursion to be worrisome. The left engine is revved up and the right wheel locked while the classic plane swings around to downwind.

Taxiing over the rough grass with the nose of the airplane pointing sharply upward, you are very comfortable in the semi-reclined position while bouncing along. Magnetos are checked on the roll. The Rapide is swung onto the "runway" which is defined in the grass by white markers (a paved runway is available but this airplane was designed for grass).

The engines quietly rev up and we start trundling over the bumpy grass. The tail slowly comes up as we gain speed. The bumps are further between now, but are also more violent. One final bump and then there are no more. The Rapide is in its element. The shaky wingtip is stable now, curved slightly upward to show that it is helping to provide lift.

The English countryside falls slowly away and resolves into farmettes. Red tile roofed houses are swept together into little bunches to form nameless towns. The verdant green of England stretches far to the horizon. Power is reduced to cruise. You hope that you can stay in this moment and fly on forever, so you try to open your senses and let it all come in. The technical mind breaks the spell, however, and the eyes caress the airfoils watching how the fabric pillows up between the ribs of the lower wing and sinks inward on the bottom of the upper wing. What better testimony could one have that airfoils really do produce lift.

The tone of the engines lessens. The earth slowly rises for the grass to meet the tires. The Rapide bounces and swerves in repulsion as it becomes earthbound again. Before you dismount you take in a deep breath of Rapide smells; dope, old leather, engine oil, aviation gas, and probably some sweat from bad weather flights. You hope you never have to exhale. masking it.