Crazy Planes: Sky Combat Ace experience is a roller-coaster ride with no rails

By John Katsilometes

Monday, Sept. 12, 2011 | 8:55 p.m.

Probably the first order of business is to thank the crew at Sky Combat Ace for ruining every thrill ride I will take for the rest of my life.

Sky Combat Ace. The name says it all, really. We got yer sky, we got yer combat, and we got yer ace. Multiple aces, actually.

The sky is the airspace above Eldorado Valley south of Boulder City. The combat is achieved by flying a pair of nimble Extra 330LC Extra aerobatic aircraft, familiar to anyone who has watched the Red Bull air races, which features the high-performance planes in events across the country.

As for the “ace,” Sky Combat Ace has a deck of such. Ten certified fighter pilots are hired by the company located at Henderson Executive Airport property and serve as “wingmen” for simulated dogfights and for-real acrobatic flights high above the desert terrain.

It’s an experience, that’s for certain. A few weeks ago, my buddy Marc Savard asked if I would like to fly these racy little prop planes around the valley, performing loop-the-loops and firing away at him with in a make-believe dogfight. I said, “Yes,” because I think that Savard has in fact hypnotized me to the point where I involuntarily shout “Yes!” to any nutty thing he suggests. (Another example of Savard’s power over the subconscious is how he utters the words “never-ending salad bowl,” and two hours later I find myself seated at The Olive Garden.)

Nonetheless, Savard and I had a dizzyingly terrific time out there, and up there, chasing each other around our swift little planes.

Things to know should you ever investigate flying with the SCA operation:

You are actually allowed to fly the plane: When Savard broached the idea initially, I thought he was talking about an entirely simulated experience, like playing a video game for three hours, or climbing into an arcade attraction. Then he said we’d actually be seated in a cockpit of a fully operational aircraft, and I asked, “So, I am playing a video game while flying around in this plane?” It took a while for me to realize, to my astonishment, we would be handed controls of the plane and fly around ourselves. As I told Marc, “This all sounds remarkably short-sighted.” But there is no concern with safety, because …

You are provided your own experienced fighter pilot for your mission: Bill “Stroke” Tracy was Savard’s wingman. Stroke is nicknamed thusly because he is a huge Billy Squier fan, and of course I joke. Stroke is actually an Air Force Academy grad who entered the USAF in 1990, amassing more than 2,500 hours (but not all at once) in fighter aircraft.

My guy was Sky Combat owner Richard “Tex” Coe, whose name in my head sounds like “Texaco,” which is befitting because he is one high-octane hombre. Tex has been flying since age 16 (again, with many long-lasting breaks). As an F-16 pilot, he has seen 150 hours of combat time and more than 1,000 hours in the air. Thus, Stroke and Tex are infinitely qualified to haul around a Strip entertainer and a fun-loving journalist across the Vegas landscape.

You are given Top Gun-styled nicknames: Savard was dubbed “Jedi” for his work with the subconscious. I was dubbed “Gambler,” also for my work with the subconscious.

You spend ample time in the air: After about an hourlong prep session, where Stroke essentially told us, “Use your best judgment. If you don’t, me or Tex will take control of the plane.” Then we took off and were airborne for 45 minutes. This leads to the following, grim reality …

Retching will seem a reasonable option: You know this because, along with your flight suit and head set, you are issued a small plastic bag and told, “If you don’t miss, you get extra points!” Funny, but when you are careening at 250 mph, going tea-over-teakettle in a glass cocoon, you do get queasy. A few times during our flight, Tex asked, “You doin’ OK?” and I responded, “Yes!” when I really meant, “I am grateful you gave me this plastic bag before we took off!” But I never did actually lose my cookies, nor did Marc the Jedi Hypnosis Boy.

The dogfight is wildly entertaining: We essentially chased each other in wide circles, the G-forces pressing hard on our bodies. I pulled 6 Gs myself at one point, which feels as if you’ve had a king-size mattress dropped on your chest. We controlled the craft totally for a good segment of the competition, which Savard won in comeback fashion, 2-1. During the mock battle, we looped, spun, stalled the engine (intentionally) to allow the plane to fall free, barrel-rolled and performed something I called “lunchbox.”

“Lunchbox” is actually called “lomcevak: The two words actually sound a lot alike, and when Tex asked, “Want to try a lomcevak?” I said, “Yeah! Lunchbox!” This is a tumbling, somersaulting man maneuver where the plane behaves as if it is totally out of control and catapulting to the ground. “Lunchbox” seemed the right term to me, as this is the acrobatic twist where you would most likely lose your lunch.

It is not cheap: Packages range from $499 for the “Afterburner” 25-minute flight to $599 for the “Top Gun” 45-minute flight we took to the $1,750 “Sky Combat” experience ($1,295 for a group of two or more), which includes limousine service to and from your hotel, assorted treasures from the flight, a chance to hang out in the hanger and shoot pool and hobnob, and dinner for two at Nu Sanctuary.

The flight feels like driving a Formula One racecar at top speed, if that car could also fly: That is the best way to describe this Sky Combat aerial tour, especially the low-level flying just a thousand feet above the terrain heading back to the landing strip. It’s like being in an F-1 car, but as I say that, I realize I’ve never actually driven one. Maybe that is the next frontier for Tex, Stroke, Jedi and the Gambler.

Follow John Katsilometes on Twitter at twitter.com/JohnnyKats. Also, follow "Kats With the Dish" at twitter.com/KatsWithTheDish.