“No one has ever vomited here,” the employees at the front desk assure us. Which is good, because Loudoun County is a pretty long way to come to throw up.
Your DCist staff made the journey to iFLY on their invitation to give indoor skydiving a whirl—or, more accurately, a whoosh. Not a fan of heights, Christina opted to document, and look on skeptically.
After checking in at airport-style kiosks and signing/tapping our lives away, the three of us head upstairs to meet our instructor. First, though, we stop to gawk at the 14-foot wind tunnel itself, where a handful of instructors are doing airborne gymnastics as part of their training. The Ashburn location is the latest in iFLY’s indoor skydiving empire (they have 21 in total) and they’re still staffing up.
With 13 years of indoor skydiving instruction under his jumpsuit—most recently in Dubai—Ricardo Del Castillo is overseeing the operation. But for the afternoon, he is patiently explaining to us how wind tunnels work. In response to questions informed by our rusty physics, Del Castillo replies sagely, “You are the object in motion.”
In a small classroom, he instructs us to lean in when we enter the tunnel and point our hips down and chin up, effectively creating a bowl with our bodies. Del Castillo then teaches us hand signals that he’ll use to communicate in the noisy tunnel. He’ll be in there with us throughout the whole session, which winds up including two-and-a-half minutes each in the tunnel (That’s about three times as long as a normal skydive, Del Castillo says, which has a vertical drop time of around 45 seconds.)
The whole thing, he assures us, is perfectly safe. Children and the elderly do it regularly (we watch a seven year old getting ready to try it). iFly only cautions against people who have neck or back problems or a history of shoulder dislocations from partaking. Christina continues to look on skeptically.
Suddenly, the lesson is over and we’re suiting up. Here’s what we made of the experience:
Rachel S:
Some of us (ahem, Rachel Kurzius) have perfectly sized heads that fit exactly into the given helmet. Others are frustratingly in between sizes. Because the staff understandably doesn’t want a helmet to go rocketing off in a tunnel being blasted with wind, they will instruct you to shove your head into the smaller helmet. My ears still haven’t entirely forgiven me for this.
The goggles can go over glasses, which is really nice for the ocularly challenged. The plasticky eye covering will be tightened all the way until it is pressing into your skin, though, so more face-smushing awaits.
The jumpsuit is far more comfortable and makes you feel much cooler. Photos immediately dispel that notion.
Embarrassingly, I didn’t realize quite how, uh, windy this would experience would be. But if you can imagine standing directly in front of an industrial fan, that is about what your contorted face will be feeling. It is also unsurprisingly extremely loud (seriously, remember the hand signals they taught you).
Prior to arriving, I didn’t give much consideration to the wind or noise because I was more concerned about rollercoaster-style stomach lurching. As it turns out, this is not a thing that happens at all. Something, something physics.
Despite the lesson about how safe the experience is, I do manage to fall at one point. Del Castillo later explains it’s because I let my body slacken and there was more surface area for the wind to push down instead of up (in other words, I stopped being a bowl).
I eventually get going with enough stability for him to let me go. It takes more concentration than I expect but holy science witchcraft, I’m flying on my own.
There is spit. So much spit. After a minute and a half of trying desperately to be a human bowl, I get down after one “jump” and realize there is no more saliva left in my mouth.
After a few minutes of sensory overload in the wind chamber, coming out felt like being on mushrooms. Nothing terribly dramatic, just the sense that the contours of the world aren’t as they normally are. This went away after a minute or two, but man was it trippy.
It took us nearly an hour to get there, so there’s a definite time investment for a couple of minutes of wind-blown excitement.
Conclusion: Between the face smushing and the spit, I would stay far away iFly if you’re trying to look attractive on a date. If you have a well-sized head and don’t mind being totally ungraceful, this might just be for you. I imagine it is certainly less scary than jumping out of a plane.
Rachel K:
Skydiving has never been on my bucket list, but America’s Next Top Model and James Bond made me curious enough about wind tunnels to give this a try. Still, I was nervous for days before we went to iFly—my biggest fear was that the wind tunnel would suddenly stop and I would come crashing to the ground. There are lots of failsafes to prevent this from happening, apparently.
The jumpsuits they make you wear are amazing. They don’t let you keep them, though, even if you ask really nicely.
To imagine what the wind tunnel looks like, think about that scene in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when Charlie and his grandpa drink the Fizzy Lifting Drinks. But thankfully, getting levity is not as easy as sipping some soda.
This gets at the coolest part of iFly: it takes a lot of effort and concentration to get in the proper body position. (The neutral position is a lot like the Camel pose in yoga.) So even though it looked like I was just being flung around by wind with the help of Del Castillo, small shifts in my posture would change exactly how aerodynamic I was.
By the time I got accustomed enough to the wind tunnel to figure that out, though, my session had lapsed. (At the end, I was getting pretty high up in the wind tunnel. It was exhilarating.) It made me hungry for another chance to experiment in there.
In terms of facial comfort, I felt like a dog who puts its head out the window on the highway. There’s a reason why they do it—it’s fun as hell. But I have never had worse cottonmouth in my life than when I came back to Earth.
Also, I learned the real meaning of the phrase “hair looks like she just came out of a wind tunnel.”
Conclusion: When Christina asked who was the best, Del Castillo reluctantly said that I “got to neutral faster, though in the end you were both flying without assistance.” But all I heard was, “You won, you amazing wind tunnel queen!” So I love iFly and should probably return soon to fulfill my destiny as a champion gravity-defier.
Christina:
As Sadon mentioned, Loudoun isn’t around the corner from the District. So hop in the car with a good playlist, open windows, and just enjoy the ride.
When you’re watching friends “fly,” encourage them by smiling, waving, and giving them the thumbs up so they don’t feel as crazy as they look.
Refrain from telling your friends how flushed they look when coming out of the tunnel. Just smile and say they did a great job.
Snapping pictures is great, but this thing is made for video footage.
Conclusion: If you’re not going to do it yourself, be supportive of your friends. But take photos and videos in case you need to blackmail them later.
iFly is located at 20315 Commonwealth Center Drive in Ashburn, VA. Prices for first-time flyers start around $80.
Rachel Sadon
