Ride high in speed machines

CHOPPERS and Harleys are the only way to go, says a thrill-seeking Eloise King as she braves the open air above a shimmering ocean and jagged cliffs.

Swinging low ... cliff-hugging and heart-pounding in the adventure helicopter.

AS I sat in the Mascot lounge area waiting for fellow thrill-seekers boarding the Coastal Rush Helicopter Tour – 25 minutes of coast-hugging aerial twists and turns with the chopper doors off – my mind drifted back to a psychology lecture I'd sat through years ago at university.

The lecture had generated some quirky facts about adventure activities, one study showing that adrenalin-fuelled experiences increase the likelihood of falling in love with a person who shares it: think Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves in the movie Speed.

I began to wonder whether one of the other two passengers braving the open air above Sydney's plunging ocean and jagged cliffs might be tall, dark and handsome and perhaps even kind, intelligent and funny, as well?

Then our pilot introduced passengers Pete and Di who, in actual fact, had picked the gripping heli-tour to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary.

So with love in the air, but the possibility of falling in it groundless, we were strapped firmly into our seats and given headphones for flight commentary and ear protection. The chopper's blades began to whirr and we were soon hovering just centimetres off the ground.

Minutes later we were soaring out and over the shimmering ocean at Botany Bay and heading rapidly towards the eastern suburbs beaches.

Travelling 200km/h at 500ft on this beautiful sunny morning, we ducked and weaved over a natural palette of sea greens, cliff browns and sandy yellows. The bird's-eye view of the lazy beach-hangers, rainbow coloured surfboarders lolling about in the sea and salty lap-pool swimmers offered us a unique perspective of Sydney lifestyle.

Our pilot pointed out Cape Banks, Bare Island, Wedding Cake Island and the well-trodden Coogee to Bondi coastal walk. A slight lift of the head showed up the entire Sydney CBD in front of a distant Blue Mountains backdrop.

With knotted hair and a churning stomach, less than 30 minutes after take-off, we dropped down to land at the Mascot base.

HIGH ON THE HOG

Buzzing from the experience, but happy to be back in the car, I motored towards Manly to meet my Harley-Davidson riding guide for a ground tour of yet another beautiful slice of Sydney – the northern beaches.

Dressed in black leather and denim, my Harley driver was an older tall, dark and handsome type with a well-worn northern beaches tan. He introduced himself as Padre (as in priest) but his shimmering crystal blue eyes spoke volumes about the plethora of women he must have wooed in his younger years.

Happy to play the biker role of having a penchant for speed and younger women, he strapped me into my helmet, gave one almighty rev to the engine and with a cheeky throwaway comment we powered away from the rest of the group.

Padre asked whether there was anything specific I wanted to see. Comfortable to roam aimlessly in the warm fresh summer air, we motored loudly along the winding coastal roads drowning out waterfront cafe conversations.

With the sun and the wind brushing my cheekbones, the conversation turned to local real estate – a mutual interest stumbled across through muffled helmet bike banter – and it became the focus of the rest of my personalised Harley tour.

Twisting and turning through suburbs with superb longer range views of the water, Padre gave me the local's perspective on the best northern beaches buys.

We then opened up on to Warringah Rd which wound on to a long and uninterrupted stretch of bush-lined Wakehurst Parkway to roar back to my car in Manly, the long way.

Despite the early morning day-dreaming about Keanu-like adventures, the rush I experienced from branching out into the wider playground of Sydney had me falling further in love with a city I already lived in. I was sun-kissed and happy.

The writer was a guest of Adrenalin.