Top Gun was a special, special movie.
And ever since then, you’ve felt the urge to collect Maverick-style dog tags, play shirtless beach volleyball and buy every stunning Kenny Loggins album.
But if you want to take your Top Gun obsession to its logical extreme—and maybe, just maybe, avenge the death of Goose—we suggest you head back to where fighter-piloting all began: World War Effing Two.
Presenting War Bird Rides, your chance to climb inside a real World War II training plane and pull off crazy tricks all over the Texas sky, now available at Cavanaugh Flight Museum.
You’ll start by meeting up with Kevin, a 20-year veteran of the air and your pilot for the day, who’ll show you how to enter and exit the plane and even eject via parachute (we recommend you pay attention).
Then, you’ll choose your aircraft—an open-cockpitted Stearman or a closed-cockpitted Texan—strap in, don a headset and listen to Kevin ask you how hard he can turn you (tell him to crank it up to 11... or just respond with a few bars of “Danger Zone”).
Finally, you’ll take off and embark on 30 minutes of high-octane, roller-coaster daredevil stuff—everything from figure eights over Lewisville Lake to a thousand-foot drop that smoothes out just in time to make the runway.
Because parachuting in would be too flashy.
And ever since then, you’ve felt the urge to collect Maverick-style dog tags, play shirtless beach volleyball and buy every stunning Kenny Loggins album.
But if you want to take your Top Gun obsession to its logical extreme—and maybe, just maybe, avenge the death of Goose—we suggest you head back to where fighter-piloting all began: World War Effing Two.
Presenting War Bird Rides, your chance to climb inside a real World War II training plane and pull off crazy tricks all over the Texas sky, now available at Cavanaugh Flight Museum.
You’ll start by meeting up with Kevin, a 20-year veteran of the air and your pilot for the day, who’ll show you how to enter and exit the plane and even eject via parachute (we recommend you pay attention).
Then, you’ll choose your aircraft—an open-cockpitted Stearman or a closed-cockpitted Texan—strap in, don a headset and listen to Kevin ask you how hard he can turn you (tell him to crank it up to 11... or just respond with a few bars of “Danger Zone”).
Finally, you’ll take off and embark on 30 minutes of high-octane, roller-coaster daredevil stuff—everything from figure eights over Lewisville Lake to a thousand-foot drop that smoothes out just in time to make the runway.
Because parachuting in would be too flashy.