If I had to list all the failed attempts to create a flying bike (or flying motorcycle) over the last ten years, I'd probably finish tomorrow. Prototypes that never got off the ground, science fiction renderings that never became reality, fundraisers that vanished into thin air. A graveyard of aerial promises that made us all skeptical.
Then it arrives Tomasz Patan, the same one that created Jetson One, and puts together something so brutally simple it's disorienting: a jet-powered flying bike. No quadcopters, no ducted fans pretending to be motorcycles. The Airbike Volunteer is this: or rather, it is something else. Something that does not imitate science fiction but brings it back to the most ruthless logic: flying means overcoming gravity, everything else is decoration.
Airbike, the pure essence of flight
At first glance, it looks almost incomplete. A floating core with no wings, no propellers, no excess surfaces. Just a dense frame that contains propulsion, balance control, and pilot support. The corner struts act as landing gear, made of what looks like bent composite tubing. There are no visible suspension or modular attachment points. Everything is for weight, stability, and flight.
Posture tells the rest of the story. The rider leans forward, legs wrapped around the central frame, arms lowered and outstretched. It resembles a superbike in its setup (yes, I said flying bike and yes, I still don’t feel comfortable calling it a motorcycle) but it floats instead of rolling. No protection surrounds the rider, no cowling or side fairings interrupt the view. Every horizon remains visible. The 360-degree line of sight is intentional, designed to orient the rider in real time while maintaining the sensation of movement.
Do you understand now why I call it a flying bike?
Night and functional beauty
At night, the design is accentuated. Thin vertical light strips trace the rear pillars, glowing red like moving guides. These aren’t for show. They aid in tracking in flight shots and situational awareness for other observers. When parked, the flying bike stays low. There are no tall vertical elements or extended fins. It looks ready to launch again at any moment.
In flight, it doesn’t hover like a drone. It hurtles through the air. Ground dust is blown out from underneath, hurled by directional jet propulsion. There are no high-speed spinning blades. Lift and thrust come from a closed jet system (which Volonaut has yet to fully detail).
The lack of external rotors gives it a tactical advantage: it can traverse denser terrain, approach vertical surfaces, and operate with reduced safety buffer zones.
Flying bike: featherweight, maximum power
The structure weighs a fraction of what one would expect. According to Volonaut, it is seven times lighter than a motorcycle. Carbon fiber forms the exterior surfaces, while key structural elements are 3D printed. No fairings, no design bulk. It’s all driven by utility. That minimalism not only reduces mass but also exposes more airflow paths, keeping the system cooler and more stable under sustained boost.
And this isn’t some futuristic concept dressed up in renderings. It’s flying now. Test video clips show the Airbike moving along forest ridges and dry lakebeds, lifting off and landing unassisted. Unlike so many vaporware prototypes of the past decade, this machine isn’t about possibilities. It shows.
Jet. Frame. Pilot. The rest is fluff and dirt.
