I sit here writing these words on the plane ride from Houston, back to Colorado. As we take off, I can’t help but smirk, thinking about the last time I was on a plane. I feel the increased g’s as we climb through the sky, awaiting the quick transition to zero-g, but it doesn’t come. I smirk again, realizing that no plane ride will ever be quite like my experience aboard the “Weightless Wonder.”
I will preface my story by saying that the “Vomit Comet” did indeed get the best of me. Despite my best efforts, my breakfast was intent on leaving my stomach. Thankfully, that waited until after the final parabola.
I will preface my story by saying that the “Vomit Comet” did indeed get the best of me. Despite my best efforts, my breakfast was intent on leaving my stomach. Thankfully, that waited until after the final parabola.
The morning of our flight, we were given a combination of medications specially designed to help with motion sickness and give us the energy necessary for the flight. Upon take off, most everyone’s nerves were at ease, most likely thanks to the medication. After reaching 10,000 feet, we were free to tend to our experiments and prepare them for the journey into the reduced gravity environment.
We started with three Martian parabolas which gave us about 1/3 of earth’s gravity. As our first introduction to reduced gravity, it was quite strange. I could feel the existence of gravity, but I also felt more capable - I felt that I had instantly gained abilities that were new to me. I turned to our computer to look at our data, but I couldn’t help bouncing up and down slightly to experience this strange environment as best I could (even with the quick 40 second intervals).
Three lunar parabolas came next. For me, the difference between lunar and Martian parabolas was hard to identify, probably because both environments were equally new to me. Again, I couldn't help bouncing in place, with images of the moon going by in my mind.
Next up was zero gravity, with a total of 28 parabolas remaining. I took the first few parabolas easy, opting to stay on the ground and just get used to the environment. The 1.8 g’s acting on my body felt more intense during this fist zero-g parabola. I patiently awaited the transition, not knowing what to expect. I hear the plane’s engines cut back, feel the g’s quickly disappearing, and in about three seconds, I’m accidentally floating.
Since I wanted to stay on the ground, my first instinct was to hold on tight to the strap on the ground. Once the zero gravity hit, the force with which I was holding the strap caused me to start rolling on my side. I felt very out of control, feeling like I was falling, but I didn’t know where. I sneaked a peak down the plane, and saw a very strange sight. To me, I felt like I was looking down, with people floating below me. I looked up, and it felt down. I looked down, and it felt down. It’s one thing to say, “There is no up in space,” but it really is something else to truly know what that phrase means (sort of…).
The next few parabolas hit and I began to understand how to control myself better. Unfortunately this increase in control was beginning to feel more necessary than ever – my head was feeling quite strange. I had a feeling I knew what was coming, so I identified the location of my government-issued sickness bags. I started sweating, frustrated with myself for not taking off my flight suit down to my waist. I was sweating, feeling a little queasy, and floating at the same time. During one of the hypergravity sections of the flight, I decided it was time and grabbed my sickness bag. Within seconds, I had hands on me, asking me if I was alright. The flight surgeon on our flight came over to me, asking how I was feeling. I sat up straight for a few parabolas, missing the zero-g experience while they pinned me down to the plane’s “floor.” A few people helped me take off my flight suit down to the waist to help cool me down.
I decided to sit out a few more parabolas and sit in the seats in the back. I was handed a cold towel and a bottle of water, which seemed to help immediately. The flight surgeon helped by fanning me with air, and gave me a lifesaver mint. It all helped.
As I started feeling better, the environment around me started to come back into focus. Sitting in the front row of the seats, I had a complete view of the entire plane. It felt surreal looking down the plane, seeing flips (some on purpose, but most on accident), and watching the ground transition from below me, to who-knows-where.
By the time we had a break in the parabolas, I decided I was feeling well enough to rejoin my team. I took the first few parabolas slow, only rising slightly from my seated position against the plane's wall. I was feeling confident in my ability to not lose my breakfast, but I was aware of the fact that my head did not think that the environment was normal.
We started with three Martian parabolas which gave us about 1/3 of earth’s gravity. As our first introduction to reduced gravity, it was quite strange. I could feel the existence of gravity, but I also felt more capable - I felt that I had instantly gained abilities that were new to me. I turned to our computer to look at our data, but I couldn’t help bouncing up and down slightly to experience this strange environment as best I could (even with the quick 40 second intervals).
Three lunar parabolas came next. For me, the difference between lunar and Martian parabolas was hard to identify, probably because both environments were equally new to me. Again, I couldn't help bouncing in place, with images of the moon going by in my mind.
Next up was zero gravity, with a total of 28 parabolas remaining. I took the first few parabolas easy, opting to stay on the ground and just get used to the environment. The 1.8 g’s acting on my body felt more intense during this fist zero-g parabola. I patiently awaited the transition, not knowing what to expect. I hear the plane’s engines cut back, feel the g’s quickly disappearing, and in about three seconds, I’m accidentally floating.
Since I wanted to stay on the ground, my first instinct was to hold on tight to the strap on the ground. Once the zero gravity hit, the force with which I was holding the strap caused me to start rolling on my side. I felt very out of control, feeling like I was falling, but I didn’t know where. I sneaked a peak down the plane, and saw a very strange sight. To me, I felt like I was looking down, with people floating below me. I looked up, and it felt down. I looked down, and it felt down. It’s one thing to say, “There is no up in space,” but it really is something else to truly know what that phrase means (sort of…).
The next few parabolas hit and I began to understand how to control myself better. Unfortunately this increase in control was beginning to feel more necessary than ever – my head was feeling quite strange. I had a feeling I knew what was coming, so I identified the location of my government-issued sickness bags. I started sweating, frustrated with myself for not taking off my flight suit down to my waist. I was sweating, feeling a little queasy, and floating at the same time. During one of the hypergravity sections of the flight, I decided it was time and grabbed my sickness bag. Within seconds, I had hands on me, asking me if I was alright. The flight surgeon on our flight came over to me, asking how I was feeling. I sat up straight for a few parabolas, missing the zero-g experience while they pinned me down to the plane’s “floor.” A few people helped me take off my flight suit down to the waist to help cool me down.
I decided to sit out a few more parabolas and sit in the seats in the back. I was handed a cold towel and a bottle of water, which seemed to help immediately. The flight surgeon helped by fanning me with air, and gave me a lifesaver mint. It all helped.
As I started feeling better, the environment around me started to come back into focus. Sitting in the front row of the seats, I had a complete view of the entire plane. It felt surreal looking down the plane, seeing flips (some on purpose, but most on accident), and watching the ground transition from below me, to who-knows-where.
By the time we had a break in the parabolas, I decided I was feeling well enough to rejoin my team. I took the first few parabolas slow, only rising slightly from my seated position against the plane's wall. I was feeling confident in my ability to not lose my breakfast, but I was aware of the fact that my head did not think that the environment was normal.
Eventually, I was able to check on our experiment, help adjusted a moved-camera, and check on the data. For the last few parabolas, I brought out the slinky, handing Sara the other end. Nathan filmed us as we held the slinky between us, seeing the straight line it was forming across our structure (an odd sight to see).
I pulled out a clear bottle full of about thirty jelly beans on the last parabola, playing with their movement in the microgravity environment.
Thirty-four parabolas sounds like a lot, but they went by extremely fast. We leveled out, stored items that needed to be stored, and returned to our seats. Upon sitting, my held still did not feel right. I, again, identified my sickness bag and brought it out. There went my breakfast.
About thirty seconds later, I felt normal, as if the sickness was never there, thankful for the opportunity to experience both the “Weightless Wonder” as well as the “Vomit Comet” that day.
Do I wish I hadn’t been sick? Sure – but the times in between were seconds of my life that I will not forget. As the plane I am currently sitting on prepares to land, I cannot help but imagine it without the rows of seats ahead of me, white padding on the walls, and a few dozen people “below” me floating throughout the cabin.
(Images courtesy of NASA)
Posted by Kyle Stephens
