I got a backseat ride in an F16B overseas.
I did not eat eat much (all day) before the flight so as not to shame myself. The flight physical and talk with the ground crew did not bother me at all. Then they tightened the laces on my Gsuit so tight I could not stand up entirely straight, and walked a little like a primate (or John Wayne), that was OK too.
However, when my plane landed and the Lt Col getting a ride before me sorta fell out of the cockpit with his flight suit soaked, and his little bit of hair sticking straight up, and a deranged look on his face, that kind of bothered me. (Looked just like Woody Allen getting out of the orgasmatron)
Then when I was all snapped and hooked in with coms and oxygen for the mask, air for the gsuit, and the crew chief snugged down the belts by pulling really hard on them, I got a bit claustrophobic. Then the pilot (Wing CC) had two pieces of advice over the coms.... well he said they were direct orders: First,
if you pull that yellow tab sticking up between your legs labelled eject for any other reason than I tell you to or I pass out myself, I will have you before a general court martial, and second,
if you have to puke, turn that mic volume off, I hate listening to that crap. That was reassuring.
Then we rolled down the runway and he called out the speeds, holy crap that's pretty fast. Then we lifted off and I heard the hydraulics whine from wheels up. Then we did a full afterburner takeoff not quite straight up, and all the blood drained out of my upper body, except the Gsuit blew up really hard and forced some of it to stay in my upper body, though I still completely greyed out and tunneled visioned to barely conscious. Now I understood why the suit had a little cutout for your junk, that thing got incredibly tight.
Then we flew nap of the earth, and up and down and some nice 7-8 G turns which your body reacts funny too. I grunted my way though a number of high G turns, but never felt nauseous. Later we flew out over the Mediterranean, and over a castle that had been occupied by Richard the Lionheart. Then we flew over a huge canyon in the Taurus Mountains, with the wing just barely not touching the trees at the rim. When I said the view below was spectacular, he made it better by going down into the canyon, then inverting so you had to look straight up to see straight down.
At the end, he did this flip flop line up for the runway with a hard bank, and then we set down. Even though the plane had AC, it was about 105 on the runway (Incerlik AB Turkey), and I was suddenly soaking wet. When we taxied up to stop, I sorta fell out of the cockpit and if I had any hair it would have been straight up, and I looked just like I got out of an orgasmatron. Except I had a great big smile, and wanted to go again. Sadly, that was not to be. But the guy waiting for the next ride was looking at me sort of funny (and green).
