SPORT - Yachting on land is never plain sailing

'There's just three things to remember," says Chris Wright, as he straps me into the cockpit of my impossibly frail-looking landyacht. "Turn towards the wind; if in doubt, sheet out; and don't put your feet down on the ground."

So endeth the first lesson. Chris - who happens to be landyachting's world champion - gives me a push to get me started. The wind gusts, the sail billows - and suddenly I'm off, racing over the Tarmac at Elvington, sail cracking, wind whipping my cheeks, ground skimming beneath me.

It's thrilling. I'm lying in a tiny fibreglass cockpit scarcely larger than my body, suspended on three wheels inches above the ground.

Above me towers the five-metre sail. As the wind gusts, the tiny yacht leaps forward. I can feel the power of it through my arms holding the 'sheet', the rope through which I control the straining sail.

It takes a while to get the hang of it. At first I haul the sail too tight. It loses shape, I spill the wind, and the tiny craft almost coasts to a halt. But then I slacken off, the sail bellies out and I'm racing across the Tarmac again.

Steering is by foot pedals which turn the single front wheel. As I reach the red cone that Chris has set out for me, I press down with my left foot. The yacht turns sharply to the left, into the wind. It's going to tip, I think: but it doesn't. The sail whips across above me, then bellies out again on the opposite tack and before I know it I'm racing back in the direction I've just come from, whooping with excitement.

Only one problem: there are no brakes. How to stop this thing?

Simple, as Chris instructed me before I set off. Turn into the wind and let out the sheet to allow the sail to go slack. It will flap and you'll coast to a halt. Whatever you do, don't put your feet on the ground or you could end up with a broken ankle.

That's the theory: but as I come to the end of my first practice run I'm uneasily aware that I seem to be travelling at terrific speed.

I turn into the wind and 'sheet out', as per instructions. Suddenly the sail is flapping and useless, the acceleration is gone, and I'm coasting gently towards the edge of the airfield, still steering with my feet. I draw to a halt precisely at the runway's edge.

Easy! I think, exhilarated, my face glowing from the effect of the wind.

Actually, Chris says, although racers regularly reach speeds of 50 or 60mph and the world speed record is a staggering 116mph, I wasn't actually going all that fast. Probably not much more than 15 to 20 mph; it just seemed more because I was so close to the ground.

It's not often you get the chance to have a lesson from a world champion. But Chris, a friendly civil servant from Leeds with an expressive, wind-burned face, has just returned from Ivanpah in the United States - a huge dry lake-bed on the Nevada/ California state border - where he successfully defended the Pacific Rim world landyacht title he first won in New Zealand four years ago. The 51-year-old, who says he has sailed boats since he was a child, took up landyachting 20 years ago when he lived in west Wales. "I lived ten minutes away from a five mile-long beach. I made a home-made landyacht, originally to give me something to do in the winter."

He soon found himself buying a yacht, and since moving up to Yorkshire 15 years ago has hardly sailed at sea again.

It's the sheer speed of the landyachts that attracts him. "They're exhilarating to sail," he says. "They are extremely fast, and when you get a good wind the acceleration is tremendous. They'll out-accelerate most sports cars."

That's because modern landyachts are so light. The weight of the carbon-fibre or fibreglass cockpits and the steel/aluminium chassis is nothing compared to the power of the giant sail. The main weight, in fact, is the person in the cockpit.

They are also astonishingly stable and therefore, by and large, very safe.

Because the centre of gravity is so low - just inches above the ground - and the two back wheels are raked out so wide, it is hard to make one tip over, even when cornering at high speed, as I found. That's what makes it such a great adventure sport. The York Landyacht Club, of which Chris is a member, meets twice a month at Elvington Airfield. It has members into their seventies of all abilities - all of whom get as much fun out of sailing their yachts as world beaters such as Chris.

Roy Laurie, the club's secretary, said: "It's something that people of any age can enjoy. I won't see 70 again - and I love it!"

It's not even an expensive sport. Club membership is just £35 a year. There are spare yachts for beginners to train in, and even a two-seater so youngsters can be taken along for a ride.

You'll be given training by experts, and if you do decide to take it up seriously, you can pick up a second-hand yacht - which can be transported on roof-rack or small trailer - for not much more than £300. It won't win you a world championship but it will give you bags of fun.l York Landyacht Club can be contacted via secretary Roy Laurie on 01904 448618. The next scheduled meeting is on May 7 at Elvington, and the club is hoping to stage an open day soon where anyone can come along and have a go.