An inside look at the Great Minnesota Air Show

Making it look easy is not really the goal of aerial displays such as this weekend's Great Minnesota Air Show in St. Cloud. These derring-doers are winging it literally, not figuratively.

"One little incorrect move," said pilot Mike Wiskus, "and it's over with, you're done."

So when Wiskus is flying upside-down 25 feet off the ground, or the Blue Angels are soaring with their wings within inches of each other, the only thing more important than cojones is confidence -- in oneself and one's equipment.

That means serious attention to detail and, as Wickus puts it, "practice, practice, practice."

With an array of aircraft set to soar in St. Cloud, we caught up with two Minnesotans who are integral parts of the proceedings. Flyboy Wiskus and Blue Angels crew chief Travis Simpson provided an inside look at the aeronautical endeavors.

Mike Wiskus, Spring Park

For the better part of every calendar year, Mike Wiskus makes routine runs for Tri State Drilling and his own company, West Metro Aviation in Buffalo, Minn.

Come summertime, though, "I get to do what I passionately love to do." That would be piloting his Lucas Oil biplane in up to 20 air shows a year, flying in the face of danger, "screaming along 200 miles per hour, upside-down, 10 feet above the runway."

In 2004, Sports Illustrated named aerobatic flying the most dangerous sport in the world, said Wiskus, who won a U.S. championship in 2002. "I was very careful to make sure my wife didn't see that story."

Wiskus was reminded of how risky his business is at a recent show in Milwaukee.

"We do a lot of over-water shows, You'll almost kiss the water with a couple of vertical end-over-ends," he recalled, "and I'm looking ahead and holy cow, Batman, there's all these birds. Hundreds of birds from 100 feet down. And you never want to fly underneath a bird, because a bird's escape is down.

"Every show has its thing, whether it's a tree line or tower; this one happened to be birds. It's hard to practice for that. It's very important to know the airplane and to trust it, to trust the airplane, the engine, the airframe."

Not that such incidents will keep the 51-year-old Iowa native grounded.

"I love all aspects of it. It's a passion of mine. I'm pathetic," he said with a hearty chuckle.

Travis Simpson, Edina native

Call him a modern-day G-Man.

After all, perhaps the prime duty of this Blue Angels crew chief is to ensure that no one aboard the Blues' F/A-18 Hornets "goes to sleep" on the job, succumbing to G-force.

That's achieved through rigorous physical training -- "constant lower-leg workouts, so you can push blood up into your head," Simpson said -- and a series of in-flight practices.

Among them: the Anti-G Straining Maneuver (AGSM), in which the flight crew members hook their legs to a ledge and "squeeze the lower body from feet to butt, pretty much trying to push out of the seat as hard as you can," said Simpson, 27. There's also a sequence in which they say the word "hick" over and over, "because it tightens the diaphragm up and makes it so you can push blood into your head and exchange good air for bad air."

OK, then.

Simpson's chores also include setting up logistics (hotels, car rentals, etc.) for everyone, plus preflight checks and inspections. Still, he said, the most important part of his job at these events has nothing to do with safety or health.

"Our primary mission is recruiting young kids to take our place five, 10, 15 years from now," said Simpson, who grew up near Backus, Minn., and is in his ninth year of a U.S. Navy tour. "Before every show we're out in the crowd -- hound dogs, we're called -- autographing and talking to kids."

One thing the pilots and crew don't do before heading skyward for all those twists, turns and dives:

"They say you're not supposed to eat anything greasy right before you fly."

Bill Ward • 612-673-7643