Wil Andruschak

Henry Emson performs a night approach in Calgary International Airport on The Air Academy’s flight simulator

The runway lights are directly below, in front of my plane, and it looks like I might nail the landing; but that’s a fantasy. My air speed is double what it should be, my altitude is far too high and I veer off the flight path while staring at unfamiliar multiple controls. I crash into the runway, trashing the double-prop plane and any lingering hopes of my future as a pilot.

When it’s not busy re-certifying trained pilots, The Air Academy offers “rides” in its top-of-the-line flight simulator to the general public. Programmed with eight different aircraft loaded into a computer, wannabe pilots sit in a realistic cockpit, facing a large semi-circular screen, which displays accurate geography and airport layouts. Those willing to pay $195 per hour feel every bank and turn.

“This database is of every airport and, geographically, of all of North America, all of South America and all of northern Europe,” says Air Academy owner Henry Emson. “Wherever you go in this, topographically, it should be correct.”

Flying north from Calgary International Airport towards Springbank, I can make out the Rockies in the distance and the farmers’ fields below. Springbank Airport comes into view, where I promptly crash the plane on the runway.

Aside from being the owner, Emson is also the guy responsible for explaining flight controls and practices to me — pitch, altitude, direction, air speed. Apparently the latter is kind of important when you’re trying to keep a plane in the air or land it on the ground.

“You want to line up with that runway that’s coming up, so take your head out of the cockpit,” says Emson. It’s easy to get lost in staring at the controls and to forget to look out the window towards the area you’re trying to touch down upon.

With the click of a mouse, Emson turns day into night and stars glimmer above the virtual landscape, and on the next landing attempt (yes, you get lots of chances), Emson tries to make it easy. “We’ll get lined up way back so you don’t have so many problems.” That doesn’t work. I get demoted to a small Cessna.

The Air Academy is open to individuals and groups to learn the basics of flying, or just to have some fun, and it offers gift certificates for the perfect stocking stuffer. Instructors, likely frazzled by dealing with newbies, but seemingly keeping their cool, sit with you, ensuring you at least give a cursory glance at the controls.

My session lasts 80 minutes, but time flies when you’re flying. Concentrating on all the dials and rules leaves no time to check a watch. Add the fact that my poor flying skills actually cause a little personal stress. It may not be a real plane, but the worry of doing something wrong is still palpable. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I have a day job, staring at words on a computer and not landing planes at the local airport.