Extreme velocity in Port Macquarie

TWO minutes of simulated freefall in wind speeds of 240km/h is terrifying for Brian Johnston as he tries an indoor skydive.

Escape Extreme Velocity

MAYBE it's the holiday spirit that makes me reckless but I often find myself agreeing to rather rash things when I'm away.

Until now, lying face down above a jet engine about to send 200km/h winds my way has not been one of them.

Haven't I seen videos of cows and trucks getting blown across midwestern US states by tornadoes much weaker than that?

There's a moment, as I fall to my knees, when I feel like praying or perhaps just fainting.

Then I'm prone. A roar like the sound of a plane about to take off turns my bones to jelly and my mouth to a big O of terror.

In the worst-case scenario, I'll be propelled six storeys up a tube, hit a safety net and fall back to earth in a crumpled heap.

Still, I suppose you could say that would be better than leaping from a plane and discovering my parachute won't open.

It's a damp day in Port Macquarie, just the sort of morning impetuous decisions are made. No good going for a walk or heading to the beach. May as well check out Extreme Velocity.

Australia's only outdoor vertical wind tunnel, designed to provide the sensation of skydiving without the need or expense of a plane, provides two minutes of simulated freefall instead of 30 seconds of the real thing.

All that sounds ripper, except that no one tells you until it's too late that it involves face-down proximity to a roaring wind generator.

Not that talkative owner Chris Corse is short of other warnings during the training session.

"Remember, only make little movements. Wave your arms around and it all goes pear-shaped really quickly," he repeats.

"Move your hands behind your head and you'll go up the tube and get smeared at the top like a moth on the windscreen."

This hasn't deterred our group ranging in age from four to 87 from having a go.

Corse just has to be convinced that kids can follow instructions.

Adults, too. He complains women never listen about inserting their earplugs properly: "Women tell me they know how to do it because their husbands snore. I say, 'Really? Does your husband snore at 240km/h?'."

There's a final warning not to be tempted to fly higher than Corse's eye level, where he can still catch you if you're heading into orbit.

No problem with that. Lucky Corse is wearing safety glasses because I'm prepared to jab my thumbs into his eyeballs if it prevents me becoming a human cannonball.

That's when I find myself prone, the engine roaring, my heart thumping and the wind whipping my face into a Picasso portrait.

I'm wondering if my limbs are in the right place when I find myself lifting off. Then I'm flying.

And that's a rainy day in Port Macquarie. Far, far beyond the comfort zone, terrifying and completely thrilling.

* The writer was a guest of Greater Port Macquarie Tourism.