ANALYSIS/OPINION
Finally, for those in the District without a pilot’s license, there’s now a way to fly.
A 45-minute drive west of the nation’s capital is iFLY Loudoun, the latest outpost of the indoor-skydiving franchise that allows customers to both experience free fall without every stepping foot into an aircraft and to train for a career as a professional skydiver.
The Washington Times was recently invited to try out the space-age indoor thrill at its outpost in Ashburn, Virginia. After signing a rather lengthy waver, this reporter was ushered up several flights of steps to a clear plastic chamber. Peering down, the enormous fan conveyances that simulate the free fall of skydiving are several stories below where the visitor will “fly.” It’s a vertiginous look, but I was assured that the mesh at the bottom of the tank was “aircraft-worthy.”
After being suited up, my friendly and confident instructor, Trevor Gibbs, gave me the safety spiel combined with a primer on the hand signals that would be used to communicate inside the tube, where vocal direction is impossible given the tremendous volume of the fans below.
With two fingers, he indicated how he would coach me on my leg positioning: Curling his index and middle finger toward the palm meant to bend my knees and draw my feet toward my bottom; extending out meant for me to do the same. With his hands he would instruct me to either curl my palms slightly or extend my fingers and palms outward for more maximal surface area to gain better lift.
And, as with the one time I jumped out of a plane back in 2000 — which I kept from my parents until after the fact — it was paramount to keep my head tilted back, he said.
Look up, not down.
My first “flight” was a bit of a “letdown.” As Trevor turned my body in the chamber and signaled for my limbs to shift, I took his instructions to their max, either flexing or adducting my legs and arms to either extreme. Outside of the tube after “landing,” Trevor said that it was key, as with any piloting maneuver, to make smaller adjustments ever time he counseled a correction.
I had been too binary: either fully extended or curled up too tightly.
Second flight was better, though I found that my attempts to “think” about the limb adjustments more often than not sent me flying into the plastic walls. I started to get the hang of things, at which point Trevor grabbed on to me and collectively spun our bodies so that we swarmed up toward the roof of vacu-tube several stories above. This maneuver we repeated a few more times before coming back to earth.
After one more coaching session, Trevor asked if I’d like to try one more time. This time, I did my best to turn my mind to the off position and simply — as with martial arts and sailing, two activities I have indulged in for years — simply allow my body to be manipulated by Trevor’s machinations and to trust myself to adjust my limbs slightly rather than too forcefully or exaggeratedly.
Just as with a boat or a martial arts kata, a little bit goes a long way.
This time, I felt I “had it,” as much as one can be after only a few tries. I felt the uprushing air was moving me freely, and I wasn’t fighting the physics as much. Also, this time, I closed my eyes, trusting both Trevor and my arms and legs to adjust to the currents of air around me so as to better maintain my lift. Although my body still careened toward the walls at least once or twice, the feeling of letting go, of just being, of floating — hell, of flying — made me feel more buoyant, both physically and spiritually.
But then it was roller-coaster time. Trevor once again took ahold of me and pushed his body parallel to the ground. We instantly spun upward in a brisk arc toward the ceiling, and I whooped in adrenalized joy as we came within feet of the ceiling — but thanks to engineering and general Newtonian laws, never came close to colliding. Trevor repeated the maneuver several times, allowing for amazing up-and-down motions that are simply impossible in a real skydive.
Back on terra firma, Trevor led me out of the tube and into the walkway. We high-fived and I smiled broadly. Three tries of nearly two minutes each were great, but it was enough for one day.
And from the I’m-older-than-I’d-to-admit department, my teeth were stinging from the rushing air in the tank, just as they do nowadays whenever I eat ice cream. (Next time, I’ll use a helmet to shield my aging choppers — thank you all the candy and soda over four decades.)
You too can take an indoor flight. iFLY Loudoun is located at 20315 Commonwealth Center Drive, Ashburn, Virginia, 20147 in Loudoun County (natch). To learn more call 571/446-4359 or visit iFlyWorld.com/loudoun.
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