UNLOCKING TAMPA BAY

with Bryan Burns

Skydiving is not something I would ever seriously consider doing. For starters, I don’t like heights—which is disqualifying on its own. I also hate being near the edge of anything where I could fall.

My personal nightmare? Climbing into a hot-air balloon basket while it’s still on the ground, only to have it suddenly become untethered and start rising. My fight-or-flight instinct would kick in, and honestly, I think I’d try to jump out rather than stay in the basket as it floated higher and higher. I truly don’t understand how people find that kind of thing fun or relaxing. I’d be curled up in a ball on the floor, begging to be let down.

Oddly enough, the freefall part of skydiving doesn’t intimidate me. I’ve even convinced myself I could build up the courage to jump out of a plane and enjoy it. But once the parachute opens and I’m left dangling 5,000 feet above the ground—held up by a few straps and some fabric—all my bravery disappears.
 

My iFLY instructor Amanda explained that a typical skydive lasts about six minutes: one minute of freefall followed by five minutes drifting under the chute. Those five minutes sound like pure torture to me. And that’s exactly why I’ll never skydive.

Thankfully, with iFLY—located off of Palm River Road about 15 minutes from downtown Tampa--I don’t have to. I can get the full sensation of freefall inside their vertical wind tunnel—without any of the height-induced fear.    

I first met Kyle Cooper, General Manager of iFLY Tampa, at Visit Tampa Bay’s Sunshine Summertime Celebration outside the Unlock Tampa Bay Visitors Center. We chatted for a bit, and I told him about the adventure content series I created for Visit Tampa Bay. I thought an experience at iFLY would be a perfect fit for the next installment. The next day, I followed up with a quick message to remind him of our conversation and ask if he’d be interested in setting up an iFLY experience for the series.

“Bryan…you know I’m interested! Lol,” he replied.

A couple of weeks later, we locked in a date—and just like that, the next chapter of Unlocking Tampa Bay was officially on the calendar.

Days before the flight, I joked to friends that walking through the doors at iFLY would be the closest I’d ever get to boarding a real plane for a skydive. But when I actually stepped inside the facility, my nerves gave way to curiosity.

At first glance, the setup doesn’t look too intimidating. The vertical wind tunnel rises about 15 to 20 feet from the observation area. There’s no solid floor inside the tunnel—just a net suspended where the floor would normally be. But things get a little spicier when you realize what’s beneath the net: roughly 30 feet of open space dropping down to the inlet contractor, which compresses and accelerates the air as it reenters the flight chamber.

After checking in and signing the waiver (which definitely gives you a moment’s pause), I was introduced to my instructor, Amanda. Her easy confidence made the whole experience feel a little less intimidating. Amanda hands me a red, one-piece flight suit. I’m kind of digging the look—feels like I’m gearing up to go to space. We each grab a couple of ear plugs from a jar, roll them between our fingers, and stick them in our ears. Then she gives me a head sock and finally a helmet to complete the fit. The helmet’s visor flips up with the push of a button and snaps back down into place. It gets a little steamy from my breath, so I leave it open until it’s time to fly.

Amanda has surfer-girl vibes and the boundless energy to match. Before we step into the wind tunnel, she gives our group a pre-flight pep talk. She demonstrates the ideal freefall position--arms and legs extended to form an “X”—and walks us through the hand signals she’ll use during the flight. Since it gets loud in the tunnel—hence the ear plugs—hand signals are key. One finger pointed upward means keep your chin up. The instinct is to look down when you first step in, but keeping your chin up helps you see where you’re going and results in a smoother flight. A peace sign means straighten your legs. If the peace sign is bent, bend your knees. And if your instructor flashes a hang loose sign—thumb and pinky out—it’s your cue to take a deep breath and relax.

The vertical wind tunnel has two sections. The first is a holding area where those waiting to fly sit on a bench. A second door leads to the actual tunnel. Amanda explains that the best way to enter is to stand at the edge with your arms in position and feet shoulder-width apart, then step forward, lean in, and trust the wind to catch you.

In my group of five, I’m third on the bench. To my left are two brothers from Brazil—the older looks about 16, the younger maybe 10. To my right is a couple in their 40s. I’m happy with my spot. I don’t want to be first. I want to watch someone else go to know what to expect. But I don’t want to be last either. The anticipation would be too much.

The brothers go first, each with a minute-long flight. Watching them, I’m already glad mine will be two minutes. By the time you step into the tunnel, get your bearings, and figure out what you’re doing, a minute is nearly gone. 

Finally, it’s my turn. I step up to the doorway and am immediately hit by the force of the wind. From the bench, starting the flight looked easy, but now I’m struggling to lean in. The wind is strong. I brace myself and push forward. The moment the air catches me, there’s no doubt—I’m flying!

Amanda stands close, making sure I stay in position. Until I learn to balance myself—which won’t happen on this first try—someone has to steer so I don’t drift too high, too low, or hit the glass. Amanda keeps a hand on me for most of my flight.

Also…how is Amanda managing to stand on the rope net without floating away?

I’m glad Amanda is there to guide me. Even the slightest movement of an arm or leg sends my body shifting left, right, up, or down. I’m all over the place. It’s incredibly hard to stay in one spot.

But the sensation is amazing. At no point does it feel like I’m falling. The drop below the safety net to the bottom of the tunnel doesn’t even register—I can’t see it, and I’m having too much fun to care.

Before we suited up, Amanda told me I was scheduled for a high flight.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” she grinned.

Now, I find out. About halfway through my two-minute flight, Amanda grabs me with both hands, lifts her feet off the net, and we shoot up—about 20 feet to the top of the wind tunnel. Then, just as smoothly, she brings me back down, hovering just above the safety net. She does this four more times. It’s exhilarating being that high with no fear of falling. And when we drop, there’s none of that pit-in-your-stomach feeling—just pure thrill. I love it.

When your flight is 10 seconds from the end, a red light flashes, signaling the instructor to guide you out. With the opening ahead, you reach your arms toward the sides of the door, and Amanda gives you a gentle push. Feet hit the ground, and just like that, your first flight is complete.

Getting out is a lot easier than getting in.  

I sit down on the bench after my flight, trying to process what just happened. I’m grinning from ear to ear because, honestly, it was so much fun. It reminds me of riding a jet ski. A well-known comedian Daniel Tosh famously jokes, you never see someone not smiling on a jet ski—it’s just too much fun. That’s exactly how I feel about the iFLY experience. No matter how cool or jaded you are, it’s impossible to walk out of the wind tunnel without a huge smile.

The couple after me also has two-minute flights. The husband seems to pick it up quickly and stays in control. The wife, on the other hand, seems to forget everything from the intro video and pre-flight briefing. As soon as she lifts off, she panics and goes completely limp.

This is where having an instructor like Amanda is essential. She immediately steps in, keeping the wife airborne and helping her calm down. Amanda uses the hand signals and gently adjusts her arms and legs into the correct position. Slowly, the wife starts to regain confidence. By the end of the flight, she’s rising effortlessly to the top of the tunnel—with Amanda guiding her all the way.

After everyone in my group finishes their flights, Amanda tells us she’s going to do a quick demonstration. What follows is one of the most impressive feats of aerial acrobatics I’ve ever seen.

Before she begins, the wind speed is cranked up—hard. During our flights, it hovered around 100 miles per hour. But when Amanda steps into the tunnel, it’s pushed to 130. That’s the power needed to lift and control an experienced flyer as they pull off acrobatics at high altitude—well, high indoor altitude.

She immediately flips upside down, spins mid-air, then rockets to the top of the wind tunnel like Ironman. Just as quickly, she dives back down, braking inches from the floor. She continues with a series of spins, flips, and dizzying upside-down maneuvers that leave us all stunned. For her finale, she does a backward flip through the tunnel opening, landing perfectly on the platform outside—somehow narrowly missing the top of the doorway with her head. The group erupts in applause, awestruck by what we just witnessed.

After we strip out of our gear, Amanda hands each of us an iFLY flight certificate. Mine notes that I reached terminal velocity and checks off the following: classroom training and tunnel flight, flying with minimal assistance, and maintaining a stable body position. Boxes for directional flying—up/down, forward/backward—turning 360 degrees, and performing a variety of controlled movements remain unchecked.  

“How many times have you jumped from an actual plane?” I ask as she hands me the certificate.

“After today, I’m at 1,437.”

I’m speechless. She’d gone up to Zephyrhills that morning to get a jump in before work. She tells me she tries to skydive daily when she can. Her personal record? Eleven jumps in a single day.

“I jump solo and pack my own chute,” she says. “So really, it’s just a matter of finding a pilot to take me up.”

After getting a taste of skydiving in the wind tunnel, I can see how someone could get hooked on the adrenaline rush. I’ll probably never skydive out of a real plane. And honestly, I’m okay with that. But thanks to iFLY, I got a taste of the thrill without ever having to leave the ground. It’s skydiving without the stomach drop, the parachute, or the panic. Just pure, gravity-defying fun. Whether you're chasing adrenaline or just curious to try something new, iFLY delivers an unforgettable experience that’s equal parts exciting and empowering. Huge thanks to Kyle, Amanda, and the entire team for helping me unlock a part of Tampa Bay I never thought I’d explore—from 20 feet in the air.

For more information, or to book your own adventure with iFLY Tampa, check out their website iFLYWorld.com/Tampa.