Weightless Simulation Wows Reporters

By ANN Senior Editor Pete Combs

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to float weightless in space… looking down at the big blue marble from high above the Earth?

Not since NASA's Apollo missions have Americans had space so much on their minds… thanks to the X-Prize. A few weeks ago, Burt Rutan's company won that $10 million award by becoming the first to fly to the very edge of space twice inside a week. It's proof that governments' monopoly on space travel has been broken. Now, a lot of companies are springing up… hoping to cash in on this new fascination with space. One of them is based in Fort Lauderdale. While you won't get a chance to look down on the big blue marble, you can at least feel what it's like to be weightless.

On the heels of the successful flight of SpaceShipOne -- the first manned commercial flight out of the atmosphere -- aviation entrepreneur and adrenaline junkie Sir Richard Branson wants to start flying people into sub-orbital space in two years. It'll cost almost 200-thousand dollars per flight, which might be out of reach for some of us. But for a mere fraction of that you can fly aboard one of two specially-modified 727s that belong to a Fort Lauderdale company called Zero-G. For just $3,750, you can experience Martian, lunar and zero gravity.

Space Shuttle astronaut Rick Searfoss says it's literally the next best thing to being there. "It is exactly like it," he tells me. "The sensations of feeling zero-g are exactly what you feel in space."

In fact, the Zero-G flights are replicas of the flights used to train NASA astronauts -- only the plane is different. You have to go through a brief orientation course. Then it's a short bus ride to Fort Lauderdale-Hollywood Airport and onto the airplane… called G-Force One. There, it's time for the final mission briefing from crewmember Jen Schuck.

"Everybody remember -- small movements," she says, speaking over the sound of the 727-200's engines spooling up. "No kicking. No swimming." That's pretty good advice, considering there are some 30 people on this flight. All are zero-g novices. Just for good measure, we all check to see that our little "sick-sacks" are handy... just in case.

Then comes the anticipation. As G-Force One takes off and flies west, across the Florida peninsula and over the Gulf of Mexico, you think about what it will be like to float like a butterfly. Amy Laboda is an aviation writer from North Fort Myers (FL).

"I've done some skydiving and I've had a chance to fly in the wind tunnel up in Orlando,which is an absolute hoot," she tells me. "I'm thinking this is going to last longer and be more fun."

Lee Gimpel, a freelance writer from Richmond (VA), is another of the 30 or so journalists on this flight. As we fly west, he admits being a little nervous.

"I'm getting a little bit of butterflies," he says, looking around the cabin. "I'm looking in front of the seats and seeing there's nothing there. It's starting to hit home, I think."

Indeed, we sit in 30 seats at the very back of the plane. That empty space in front of us is where we'll actually go to experience Martian, lunar and zero gravity. After about 30 minutes of building anticipation… it's time for our first parabola.

Everyone begins by sitting on the floor of the cabin in front of those 30 seats. The floor itself is covered with gymnastic mats. We're about to find out why. As the aircraft noses upward toward a remarkably steep angle of climb, Zero-G staff members remind you to sit with your back straight and don't look around. From the very first uphill ride through the parabolas, you realize that what you learned in aerobatics training holds even more true here: It's not the weightlessness that'll get you. It's the periods of increased g's in between that can truly mess with your stomach. By following the instructions, however, all that is forgotten. Soon, the aircraft pushes over, the engines throttle back toward idle and, in this case, we suddenly find ourselves in Mars-like gravity. Suddenly, we weigh just 38-percent of what we do on the ground.

You feel like you can jump a mile into the sky -- and quickly remember that you're in the cabin of a 727 (bump!). You try a few one-handed push-ups or standing back flips. They always come out perfect.

Then comes the cry, "Feet down!" The shout is echoed throughout the cabin as astronaut wannabe's try to orient themselves so that, as gravity returns at the bottom of the parabola, you don't land on your head. It's no problem at all.

Amy Laboda is as thrilled with this as I am.

"I saw you doing pirouettes," I yell across the cabin.

"Yeah," she says, with a mile-wide smile on her face. "Like I said, I haven't done those in years. Now I know what I'm going to feel like when I get rid of that 30 pounds!"

Moments later… it's time to feel what it would be like to walk on the moon. Again, the aircraft noses up in a 1.8 g climb. This time, the gravity will be 1/6th that of Earth's. Here we go, we're pitching over... WHOA! It's amazing! The cabin fills with laughter. You wonder what it would be like to walk in lunar gravity -- given that it's almost impossible to stand up.

Now… I'm loving this. Amy's loving this. But, Lee Gimpel -- not so much.

"You look a little pensive," I observe between parabolas, noting his somewhat green color and the beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

"Yeah," he admits, "I'm kinda feelin' it in the tummy. But," he says bravely, "I'm all right. I'm going to make it."

After a couple of more lunar gravity simulations… it's time to go completely weightless.

Once again, we pitch up at 1.8 times normal gravity, pushed down against the mat covering the cabin floor. Once again, the engines pull back as the aircraft noses over and -- I simply rise gently off the floor of the cabin. I'm completely weightless. I can tumble slowly into the inverted position, my head pointed down at the floor. I can spin like a slow-motion top. Brightly colored Skittles and M&M's float by, reminding me of Mike Melvill's experiment with floating candy on his first SpaceShipOne flight out of the atmosphere. I don't ever want it to end.

It's like swimming without water. It's complete freedom from gravity, and if you wonder what it feels like, all you have to do is listen to the laughter. More than two dozen supposedly hardcore journalists who are paid to be cynical are laughing like monkeys as they float around the cabin, pushing off the walls and each other (there are no strangers in zero-g).

Not everyone's cut out for this. Lee Gimpel, who was nervous to begin with, loses his lunch -- as do three or four other people. With subtle hand signals and gentle coaxing, Zero-G staffers help the afflicted to their seats and the wild ride continues. In all, only three people experience a bit of nausea on the flight -- something that seems quite curable with a dose of Dramamine before flight.

But you can't tell that to Gimpel. "I said before the flight, while we were flying out, that I wasn't much of a roller coaster person. I think I proved that to myself."

But for the vast majority of us… it was an experience unlike anything we'd ever felt before. You often hear the phrase "better than sex." In this case, it's absolutely true.

I will probably never get to space. I won't get to see the big blue marble with my own eyes (but I'm very willing to be proven wrong!). Given that, I'm looking at the Parabolic Flight Log Book given to us at the end of the flight, silently plotting ways to get a few more entries sometime soon.

FMI: www.nogravity.com