If you’ve ever wanted to fly without a pilot’s license, now’s your chance. All you need is $200,000 and a desire to soar like a bird. A knack for gaming might also help because you’ll be controlling your aircraft with a joystick.

Beyond that, you’ll need a week of training in Silicon Valley before taking flight in the unusual object that took off from Point Reyes Station last week. It has been likened to a flying car but is more like a drone-helicopter hybrid with its own space-age spin—something George Jetson might take to the office.

As the machine lurches vertically into the sky, you will hear something akin to a chorus of weed whackers. But the racket will quickly subside and your aircraft will hum relatively quietly after shifting into cruise mode.

The battery-powered ultralight aircraft, known as the BlackFly, was designed by Pivotal, a Palo Alto aerospace engineering company that recently began marketing a sleeker, sexier version. To drum up interest in a new model—the Helix—the team offered a flight demonstration of its predecessor last Thursday at Love Field.

“I’ve lived in Point Reyes for 24 years and thought it would be a beautiful place for our pilots to fly and capture video of our aircraft in flight,” said Martha Danly, Pivotal’s marketing lead. “There are also many safe takeoff and landing spots.”

From the side, the body of the BlackFly is shaped something like a fish, minus the fins, gills and flippers. There are wings in the front and back, each with four battery-powered propellers. Toward the front, there’s a cockpit with a nearly 360-degree view of the skies, a single seat and room for one person who stands no taller than 6 feet, 5 inches and weighs no more than 200 pounds. 

The aircraft itself weighs 348 pounds with the aircraft parachute and floats attached to the wings.

The BlackFly and the Helix belong to a category of aircraft known as eVTOLs, or electric vertical takeoff and landing aircraft. They don’t have wheels, but in a pinch, they can land in or take off from water. 

At takeoff, the BlackFly tilts its nose upwards, like a large animal rearing up on its hind legs. It stands there for a moment before the propellers thrust it up to the sky.

For last week’s demonstration, the 26-year-old pilot, Tina Tavakolian, a firmware engineer who had not flown before joining Pivotal, showed no signs of jitters as she boarded for a 12-mile flight from Love Field to Nicasio and back. Traveling at a top speed of 55 knots and an altitude of about 650 feet, she looped around Black Mountain, cruising over Point Reyes-Petaluma Road and taking a spin over the Nicasio Reservoir.

Along the way, she spotted a quintessential West Marin sight. “When I came back around, there were a ton of cows running over the hill,” she said. “This was easily the nicest flight I’ve done.” 

During a test flight in December, Ms. Tavakolian flew a couple of loops in front of Black Mountain and returned directly to Love Field.

Her mom, Parisa Niaki, livestreamed last week’s flight to her husband in Vancouver, unperturbed to see her daughter floating in the ether. “I’ve met all her coworkers and the engineers, and I truly trust this company,” she said. 

Both the BlackFly and the Helix look like a square-shaped letter I, measuring just under 15 feet by 15 feet. The wings are detachable, so the machine can be packed into a 16-foot trailer. 

While some eVTOLs are designed as air taxis, shuttling people from their home to an office, Pivotal aircraft are designed with fun in mind. They are recreational vehicles for adventurers who take joy in flight. Unlike air taxis, which require a landing pad, the Helix can land just about anywhere you can fit two cars side by side.

Its ultralight status, a category that also includes paragliders, means they can be flown in Class G airspace without a pilot’s license. This allows them to reach heights of up to 700 feet above ground level over rural areas, and up to 1,200 feet in some cases. Class G airspace is not controlled by the Federal Aviation Administration, leaving eVTOLs unfettered by complex regulations and pilots free to soar over roughly 95 percent of the land mass of the United States. 

The Helix, which can land itself, has enough battery power for a 20-minute flight. That’s enough juice for a quick spin over the Inverness Ridge to Limantour and back, said Sarah Dubbs, a member of the marketing team.

Much of the airspace above the Point Reyes National Seashore and Tomales Bay are classified as Class G, she said. In areas that are part of the Greater Farallones National Marine Sanctuary, flying below 1,000 feet above ground level is prohibited. This includes Drakes Bay and parts of Tomales Bay.

“Outside of that—and other flight considerations, like density altitude—yes, you could take off from a seaside ranch and fly to your heart’s content!” she said.

Aside from recreation, Pivotal envisions two other potential uses for the Helix: rescues and fighting wildfires. The ultralights can be controlled remotely and could be used to dump fire retardant in the early stages of wildfires, Ms. Danly said. “This is about getting into the area where there’s a problem faster than any other kind of vehicle can get there,” she said.

The company is engaged in conversations with the United States Air Force, exploring potential military applications for the Helix, such as delivering goods across enemy lines or rescuing wounded soldiers.

“The sound print of this aircraft is very low, and it’s very small,” Ms. Danly said. “It may not be detected by certain types of radar systems.” 

Before putting the machine on the market, Pivotal needed someone to test it. They found Tim Lum, a former Forest Service smoke jumper and Air Force pararescue man who performed several tours in Afghanistan and elsewhere as part of the global war on terror.

“They were looking for a unicorn who would fly the wings off the bad boy, not hurt themselves and offer feedback on how to improve the product,” said Mr. Lum, who had parachuted from a plane more than 3,900 times before retiring from his daredevil jobs.

Mr. Lum, the first person to buy a BlackFly, uses his to sail above his 40 glorious acres in Washington State. He takes it for a spin whenever he needs to go to his mailbox, which is located down a two-mile, unpaved road.

“I walk past the BlackFly every day, and I literally have to pinch myself every time I look at it in my carport,” he said.

About 30 people observed last week’s flight demonstration, including several members of the marketing team, who brought along a flight simulator. Visitors donned a headset and goggles and flew through a simulation of Yosemite National Park. Sitting in a reclining gamer’s chair, they used a joystick to navigate above trees and around mountain peaks.

Cameo Wood, an Inverness resident, said her simulated flight was short and not so sweet. “I got super nauseous and had to abort,” she said. 

Others were more enthusiastic about the demo. “Have field, will travel,” said Edward Huson of Lagunitas, a retired general contractor whose daughter used to work for Pivotal. “I’m living vicariously through her engineering experience. We were so excited to come here.”

Eric Moeller of Inverness, who has previous flying experience, seemed intrigued enough by the demonstration to consider buying a Helix with a couple of flight enthusiast friends. “We could pack it into a trailer and take it on camping trips,” he said.

A few hours after the demonstration, the West Marin Feed posted a video of the BlackFly on Instagram. In an area populated by environmentalists, birders and other nature lovers, the response was overwhelmingly negative, underlining some challenges for the marketing team.

“Big no on that noise or having it topple to the ground onto a hapless earthbound person,” one woman wrote.

“Let this kind of air travel die now,” wrote another. “Yuck.”