Learning To Fly - Indoor Skydiving

Learning To Fly

by Lincoln Price

Publication Date: December 1997

Whoever said that human beings were not meant to fly was wrong.

They were meant to fly and not just by sitting strapped inside a Boeing 747, or by dealing with the burden of having to operate a hang glider, or even in the constant descent of falling from a plane with a parachute. Yes, they were meant to soar. By using their arms and legs, they can climb higher or lower - by arching their back, they can cause the airflow to keep them stable - and by using the right hand signals, they can determine just how long and high they want to fly.

Impossible you say? That's what I thought until I had the chance to visit a place called Flyaway in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. They first opened in 1982 and introduced everyone to the sport of indoor skydiving.

Now, before we go any further, let me just paint you a mental picture of how this is possible. It starts with the propeller of a D-3 airplane. Running the propeller is a diesel engine that is similar to the one used by an eighteen wheeler truck. It all takes place inside a circular room that is equipped with padded walls and two sets of wire netting that make up the floor and ceiling. The double wire floor is what separates you from the propeller, which is something you instantly realize is absolutely necessary as soon as you see the size of the propeller. The propeller is run by a control operator who dictates the speed by a flyer's weight. When this all comes together, you have something that is quite simple, but yet so fascinating - indoor skydiving.

On the way to Flyaway, sitting in the car staring at the snow covered peaks of the Smoky Mountains and talking to my friend Nate about nothing in particular, it suddenly hit me.

"Hey, we're about to feel what it's like to really fly," I said.

"Yeah, I know," Nate replied. "It's pretty crazy, huh?"

That's what it was...really. The idea of flying without wings or a parachute was absolutely crazy. I thought about how many people had climbed to the top of a mountain and sat there staring at the land below wondering what it would be like to just take off, never having to worry about hitting the ground. You would simply leap into the air and let your body do the work. Something I'm sure almost all birds take for granted each day. It is the act of free flight, something human beings have been longing for since the beginning of time. I smiled and realized how I was about to cheat it all for the first time.

We arrived at Flyaway and met with the manager, Keith Fields. Keith was a wonderful person, smiling and ready to answer our questions with all the enthusiasm you could possibly ask for.

"So, what's it like?" I asked.

Keith explained the entire design and process of indoor skydiving; how it operates and the tremendous amount of wind speeds it can be compared to. He talked of how skydivers from all over the world come there to train, as an average free-fall will last two and a half to three minutes. Here, a skydiver can practice being suspended in the air for as long as they desire.

"What's the craziest thing that's ever happened here," I asked, unable to resist the possibility of hearing the most outlandish events that could occur with such a machine.

He told me about a guy that wanted to practice skydiving in a kayak. He came to Flyaway to give it a shot. After a few attempts, he actually managed to keep it up and stable. Once he got the hang of it, he launched from a plane afterward. He made the entire descent and just before he landed, he released his parachute and landed in a river, paddling away as if it was nothing at all.

"What else," I asked, still prying.

"We had a guy come in here once that wanted us to fly his pet baboon."

"What," I asked, laughing at the thought. "Did you let him?"

They were hesitant at first, he explained, but the guy convinced them that he had trained the baboon the correct flying position and hand signals. After a while, they agreed and took place in history with the first flying monkey.

It was all very interesting, but the more I thought about it, the more difficulty I had trying to relate it to something conceivable.

"So, what's it really like?" I asked again, reaching for a better definition. Keith nodded his head showing that he understood my confusion.

"It's like a class three hurricane in a can, man," he said, his smile growing completely open. Right away I felt the butterflies jump inside by stomach and I knew that we were ready to begin.

Like any sport, you first have to go through training before you can do anything. We had to watch a ten minute video on the proper procedures and safety precautions of indoor skydiving. It started by explaining the mandatory equipment you must use, like a jumpsuit, earplugs, goggles, gloves and a helmet. This is all provided by Flyaway and they always make sure that you use the equipment properly. Trying to hold a conversation inside a jet engine is virtually impossible, so there are hand signals that enable you to communicate with your instructor. They mostly cover body position like keeping your chin up, straightening your arms, arching your back, thumbs up and thumbs down, and the hang loose sign that lets you know you need to relax a little more.

The training also teaches you the tuck and roll method. The power of the wind tunnel only takes place in the center of the room and when you float too far outwards, you lose your stability and fall to the ground. Fortunately, the walls are well padded and there are huge cushions around the outside of the floor to soften your fall. This is where the tuck and roll method comes in handy.

The three steps of indoor flying are a stable body position, using the hand signals, and knowing the safety procedures. Kicking and thrashing causes immediate instability, so it's best to visualize your body position even before you try to fly.

Once we completed our training class, we were asked to suit up. This is always the toughest time for me when trying a new sport. You want to look like you know exactly what you're doing and that this is no big deal at all. However, it's hard to do when you put your pads on backwards and you can't figure out which side of your suit goes up. Once I conquered this feeling of inadequacy, I managed to suit up correctly and looked over at Nate and laughed at how ridiculous he looked. He just laughed back signaling that I didn't look to smooth myself. Suited up and ready to go, we were directed through a hallway and then into the Flyaway chamber itself.

Have you ever gone to a carnival and ridden the ride where you stand inside a room that spins around so fast that you eventually get sucked to the wall and the floor drops out from underneath you? The Flyaway chamber resembles this except the room stayed put, the ceiling was higher, and the only thing that spun was this huge jet airplane propeller a few feet below you.

We stood against the wall and heard the room roar to life as the operator turned on the incredible machine. The instructor stood in the center of the room, relaxed and comfortable, and waited to begin. He pointed at me first, causing the butterflies in my stomach to transcend into one solid constricting knot. When it released, so did my feet and I grabbed the instructor's hands and jumped into the center of the room.

My body fell flat and lifeless on top of the wire netting of the floor. There was nothing, just an overwhelming pressure of wind that caused my suit to flap pathetically against my body. I followed his instructions the best I could, raising my chin and arching my back to its full potential. My body lifted effortlessly upwards and I watched as I flew above the instructor's head.

It was beautiful. My body hovered high above the floor, almost as if it had been a kite floating in the sky. I extended my arms and legs outwards as far as I could and climbed even higher. It was one of the most amazing feelings I had ever experienced. Naturally, I couldn't help screaming with excitement.

The result was me losing all stability and being tossed outwards and crashing down towards the cushions. I snapped my body into a ball and fell into a comfortable landing. The instructor gave me a high five and brought me back out in the center for one more round.

Nate was next. After seeing my own exhilaration, he wasted no time jumping out into the center. Once he got the feel for the correct flying position, his body popped up directly at eye level. It was my best friend, floating in front of me in a situation that only most people can dream about. We made eye contact and I gave him the thumbs up signal. At that point in time, he lost all control and shot directly towards me. I leaped out of the way just as the training had instructed me to do. Nate hopped back up and tried again. After watching him rise and fall a few more times, it occurred to me that he must have fallen asleep during the part where the video explained the tuck and roll process. Perhaps he just wasn't satisfied with the technique and wanted to venture out and discover a way of his own. One thing for sure, Nate could fall on his head better than anyone I had ever known. Fortunately, in the Flyaway chamber it was completely painless and absolutely hilarious to watch.

After Nate had his turn to fly, we both hung out and watched some young kids give it a shot. The lighter ones sprang into the air, having no problems at all. On a good flight, the instructor would stand underneath them and spin them around as if they were a basketball on his finger. He tried to do this with me once and it felt great until I lost control and fit the perfect profile for "crashed and burned."

Eventually, Chad, one of the instructors, came into the chamber to show everyone what fancy flying was really about. He jumped out into the center and instead of taking flight immediately upwards, he bounced off the wire netting floor and in a flash flew to the top of the ceiling. Taking his time, he flew back down, doing flips and poses all the way. Watching him was awesome...the way it was supposed to be done. I looked over at Nate and saw he was thinking exactly what I was - Big Deal! We could do that if we just had a little more practice. Until then, I'll concentrate on my tuck and roll crash landings and he'll keep up with his head spins.

Still now I remember the feeling of flying and the beauty of it all. I think of how they say man wasn't meant to fly, and I just laugh to myself. Maybe he wasn't designed for it, but the idea of man learning how to fly just coincides with the way it has always been with man or woman. We can do anything we want...we just have to put our minds to it. Once we do that, we can fly as far and as high as we want. Eventually, we might even learn how to land.