Flightdeck Air Combat Center: Unleash the Dog

“I refuse to quote Top Gun,” were the words that first ejected from that vocal carrier I call a mouth, as I entered the Flightdeck Air Combat Center located in Anaheim. But I’d be Pinocchio if I wasn’t thinking about my man Goose, may he rest in peace. So what is Flightdeck? Flightdeck is an authentic military flight simulation center where you and your buddies can jump into life-size F-16 stationary jet cockpits and dogfight one another in an epic videogame-like showdown. Awesome? Awesome.

My wing-clipped fellow Ask-a-Local blogger The Nightowl introduced me to my would-be training instructor, code-named “Wheeze,” who explained more about what Flightdeck offers its customers. I learned that Flightdeck is open to the general public with special programs for corporate groups, team building, birthday parties, and unique bachelor parties. I inquired more about the “unique bachelor parties,” but my man Wheeze just smiled innocently. Apparently that part was classified.

Consistently voted as one of the top 10 things to do in Anaheim and Orange County (and rated the #1 attraction in Anaheim by TripAdvisor) Flightdeck is the answer for every boy, girl, grown man, high-flying female, and mythical beast that ever filled the skies with parachuting dreams of Mach-2 aerial combat. I can count myself among those wild dreamers, and I felt truly privileged to be given the chance to satisfy a boyhood fantasy.

After stepping into my commando-green flight suit, I zipped away the old Cali-Clad and ushered in the new sonic dawning of his alter ego: “Cali Cadet”. It was times like these I wish I still had my mohawk; but a poor, self-inflicted haircut would have to suffice. Sitting with my fellow trainees for our pre-flight training – some rookies like myself, others seasoned veterans that call Flightdeck home – our instructor Wheeze went over basic aerial maneuvers, joystick handling, cockpit controls, aircraft carrier traps (they would later prove to be my nemesis), air combat, takeoff, landing, and covered all the other important areas a fresh pilot like myself would need to know to be successful in the skies. Needless to say, with the detached joystick in my hands and a radar-red light showering down upon me, I was getting seriously psyched for the experience. After our training was complete, my fellow recruits and I exited into the large, dark room where the giant cockpits beckoned to us with futuristic flare. The prospective pilots dawned their helmets and climbed up the ladders into their birds. I realized that these amiable companions and I would soon be mortal enemies, patrolling through the skies like screeching eagles hunting for prey.

I snuggled into my own cozy cockpit, a fearsome F-16 fighter, and familiarized myself with the dazzling array of buttons, controls, and monitors that surrounded me. As my fingers wrapped around the joystick, I felt a surge of invigorating electricity run through my body, and I knew that my mechanical friend and I would be a force to be reckoned with. Being of above-average height, I needed to duck my head a little while the plastic roof slowly descended upon me, locking me in with a welcoming thud. The massive screen in front flickered on, and the static sounds of air-traffic controllers now buzzed in my ears. While the pre-flight conversation is a little fuzzy, my imagination paints it as something like this:

         “Baja 3, do you read me?”

         “Loud and clear Big Papa. Baja 3 is clicked on and pumped up,” I responded with a Southern accent I don’t actually have, with words I rarely use, but by God I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

        “Roger that. Gentlemen, all pilots are cleared for takeoff. Take ‘em out nice and slow. Let’s get your flight- feet wet a little first before we start shooting missiles and machine guns at each other.”

The landing strip appeared on the screen in front of me, and I gunned the throttle to a respectable 180 M.P.H., pulled back on my joystick, and let Archimedes (my jet’s new nickname) soar towards sweet atmospheric freedom. My fellow pilots and I spent the next few minutes climbing the skies, twisting and shrieking through the air, and pulling maneuvers that would normally cause our stomachs to cave in and our cheeks to turn green.

Soon… we were cleared to engage.

I set about the business of hunting down my fellow pilots in the same manner I do most things: with ridiculous speed, tenacity, and a wee bit of recklessness. Upon the first red crosshairs I encountered, indicating a bogie was in range, I unleashed a barrage of missiles and machine gun fire. My cockpit exploded with the roars of ammunition and my earpiece ignited in a static symphony of narration from the control tower. My missiles found their mark, and the enemy plane sizzled with the sight of smoke. I gleefully watched it plummet to the earth in a flurry of flames and debris. My first victory felt, well… utterly satisfying. I punched the throttle, pulled hard on the stick, and made a sharp turn to where my radar indicated a bushel of red-dotted-bogies just waiting to be blasted by yours truly.

I spent the next hour dodging a hailstorm of enemy bullets and missiles, some of which took me down and restarted my flight, unloading an arsenal of armaments, pursuing enemies to the bitter end, heeding the advice of my flight instructors, and racking up an impressive score count visible on the monitor. I never got tired of pulling some sick stunts, positioning myself behind an enemy, and seeing those red crosshairs flicker with approval…

        “Baja 3, nice hit, nice hit!”

After the dogfight concluded, we were faced with another challenge: landing. The screen changed to a vision of a nearby air base, and we were guided step-by-step to help land our aircrafts. I took to the flying and shooting part with ease, but landing required some serious finesse. Balancing the right altitude, speed, weather conditions, and keeping the jet steady enough to land proved to be no easy matter, and although I was given two separate tries, I came in too fast and too hard both times, and the back half of my plane exploded… twice. Once again I was relieved it was just a simulator.

The next landing test, an even more difficult challenge than the first (super), was the Aircraft Carrier. I gotta hand it to those actual fighter pilots, this sucker was gnarly.  I completely missed my first landing, and the second found my nose rudely lodged into the ship’s officer quarters. I was never one for authority.

By the end, I had earned second place amongst the rest of the pilots, and a promotion to Cali-Captain. Wheeze informed us that the average kill count for most groups was anywhere between one and seven… I had 27, and the guy above me had 42! At one point, Wheeze added, there were sixteen missiles blasting through the air simultaneously! That’s a dogfight if I’ve ever seen one… even though up until this point I had never actually seen one. I was given a scorecard as a token souvenir of my adventure, happily thanked my flight instructor, and exited Flightdeck Air Combat Center.

The regular sky never looked so boring.

Flightdeck Air Combat Center is located at 1650 S. Sinclair St., Anaheim. For more information, visit flightdeck1.com or call 714-937-1511.