Soon the white-knuckling begins. To achieve the zero-G effect, the pilot takes us on a steep 45-degree ascent at 397 mph. We're warned to stare straight ahead if we don't want to become nauseated and see what we had for lunch again. Hurtling even higher for 25 seconds, I feel twice my weight, as if an anchor is pulling all my muscles downward. I focus my stare at a spot on the wall. Brad Pitt could be taking his shirt off behind me, and I wouldn't look.
Then the fun starts. Finishing its climb, the plane abruptly goes into free fall straight down. At the start of our precipitous descent, we're at one-third gravity—the same as Mars—and I begin to float up. I'm doing somersaults in midair with other passengers. Wheee! I get a fit of the giggles.
The effect lasts about 30 seconds, then the cycle repeats: Hello, steep climb; goodbye, gravity. The second time, gravity is at one-sixth what you earthlings are used to. Hey! I can do one-handed pushups. The third time, all the passengers float up to the ceiling. We roll and bump around like a bunch of Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade floats, no strings attached.
By the tenth cycle, I am keenly aware of the airsick bag in my pocket—no wonder they call it the Vomit Comet. I walk off the plane feeling wobbly, though with a big smile on my face. Days later, I still feel as light as a cloud. But I'm not rushing to do it again.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
