It was up in the air, on a wing and a prayer. Southern Cross Gliding Club, Australia.

Taking one for the team: Scott Dougherty prepares to take off. 
 
And: His shots from the sky during his first glider flight.

"YOU can sit in the front, so if we crash you're gone first."

With those words I slipped into the front of the glider, my fear larger than the space for my body in the cockpit of the missile-like craft.

The joke from Eddie Pahic, the instructor, surprisingly calmed me.

He's been doing this for 24 drama-free years, and the fact he could joke about crashing to a guy who was clearly scared, seemed like a good omen.

For Eddie, this is just like driving his car to the shops and I felt safe and ready to be dragged up to the clouds.

I get nervous on Boeing 747s, so to be tugged up 3000 feet and dropped back to earth with no engine wasn't my idea of a quiet afternoon. But quiet it was.

The calm as Eddie and I manoeuvred away from the "tug" (well, Eddie did, I just sat there) was unbelievable.

The best way to describe it is peaceful.

So quiet, so peaceful, as you start the slow descent down back down to the engine-relying earth.

What I didn't expect was to do a loop.

Yep, being above Camden in a cockpit the size of a toilet cubicle is one thing.

But being upside down above Camden is just crazy.

With a "here we go", Eddie let the glider drop a few hundred metres before pulling the aircraft up, and fast.

The G forces took hold of the skin on my face and pulled tight against my skull.

I may have yelled with excitement (sorry Eddie).

The rest of the ride was back to the peace and quiet, and the landing was as smooth as a baby's you know what.

I didn't expect to love it as much, but love it I did.

Thanks to Eddie and the Southern Cross Gliding Club for their time and hospitality.