The thin, piercing whine of the Sukhoi taxiing across the runway drills its way deep into my head. The twin AL 31F turbines may only be at idle, but the IAF’s big bird is so close, we can actually feel its ‘breath’. Hot gases waft back from the nozzles as the Sukhoi spins around and heads off towards the runway, and the harsh smell of aviation kerosene fills our nostrils as the fighter goes by. Only when we are up close do we see how easily the Su-30 dwarfs the Huracán; it is simply massive. So big is it, I have to look up out of the Lambo’s wide windscreen to see all of it. And it is seriously imposing too. Its dragon-like head and fierce eagle-eye stare are enough to give you the chills, and one look at those massive engines and you know this bird means business.
The Sukhoi, however, is clearly not in its element here, taxiing at low speeds. It gets tossed around on the taxiway, the short wheelbase causes it to bob and pitch, and the wings and huge tails flex and shake as it goes past.
The Su-30 then turns and stages up before the runway. On instruction from my passenger with a walkie, I move up and place the Huracán on a parallel taxiway. Hopefully both vehicles will stay in the same frame long enough to get a good photo. “Be ready,” says my passenger, as I hear the sound of the engines change. The Sukhoi is now at a considerable distance, but the roar of the twin engines spooling up is deafening even from here. First the whine amps up to a scream, and that’s accompanied by the low roar as the rotating turbines start to go faster. In the cockpit, the pilot is using the aircraft’s own version of launch control. He is holding down the high-pressure cocks or double brakes while he pushes the throttles wide open, allowing the engines to run up to full dry thrust. The Sukhoi, now only held back by its brakes, takes the strain. We’re already at the point where I can’t hear myself speak, the scream of the engines is deafening; it’s all hand signals in the cabin now. My throat dries up, and a thin film of sweat coats my palms.
I too put my left foot on the brake, push the engine RPM up and get set to launch. The only reason I can tell the Lambo’s engine is spinning faster is because the tachometer needle jumps up. Then comes the ground-shaking, bowel-loosening thunder, as the pilot releases the brakes, lifts up the catch on the throttles and pushes them all the way forward, igniting the afterburners. Lighting up the ’burners any earlier would fry the brakes in an instant.
I jump off the brakes too and the Huracán leaps forward with huge energy that it somehow manages to sustain. This comes as a bit of a shock to my passenger, who is also a Sukhoi pilot himself. Our heads get tossed back, the seat squeezes us hard in the back and initially the Lambo leaps ahead as the thrust from the Sukhoi’s afterburners takes time to build. The Huracán’s 602bhp, four-wheel-drive system and 0-100 time of just 3.2sec certainly help here. Physics lesson: piston engines respond faster than turbines.
The Sukhoi, however, starts to pull back the advantage and closes the gap as the full force of its 55,000lb wet thrust comes in. Then, just as we begin to draw level, I have to put my foot on the brake pedal; we run out of taxiway. Hopefully we’ve got our shot.
