Sim Speak: Andy's Last Airbender

Alcohol and flying -- even simulated flying -- don't mix. I learned this lesson the hard way a few years ago when I wrote a piece for PC Gamer on the debilitating effects of high blood alcohol readings when attempting tricky landings in Microsoft Flight Simulator X. In this case, putting a Boeing 747 down at Singapore's Changi airport in a raging monsoon. I won't replay all the details but, to summarize, after a bottle and a half of wine and a significant amount of single-malt scotch, I proceeded to wipe out several quarter-billion-dollar Jumbos in just a few hours. It clearly wasn't my finest stint behind a flight yoke, but it did teach me an important lesson: readers seem to love hearing about booze-fueled simming disasters.


To that end, I decided to fire up FSX once again and see if there wasn't some other landing challenge that required an equally clear head and steady hand. I had neither, of course, because this was a late-Saturday-night decision after I'd already killed a few beers and most of a bottle of Gewurztraminer at a dinner party earlier in the evening. With the spouse snug in bed I double-checked the fridge to ensure I had plenty of "fuel." I found a sixpack of Sleeman Honey Brown and a two full bottles of Pinot Grigio. I was good to go.

Return of the Jumbo

I hadn't played FSX in some time -- most of my 2012 flying has been with assorted Russian-built combat flight sims and the disappointing Microsoft Flight -- but it didn't take me long to get back up to speed. After perusing the Missions menu I selected a tricky Boeing 747-400 cargo plane landing at Quito, Ecuador's 9228-foot high Mariscal Sucre airport. If the thin mountain air -- which requires more runway to land -- wasn't bad enough, a gauntlet of 14,000-foot peaks surrounding the city was sure to get my attention. "Cheers to that!" I proclaimed, enthusiastically draining a Sleeman.


My first crack at landing went pretty well, all things considered. I followed the tower's instructions to the letter on the approach and buttonhooked the 400-ton Jumbo around in a last-minute 180-degree turn to line up with runway 35. The mission has a preloaded co-pilot who takes care of all the radios and tower feedback for you, and the calm assurance in his voice as he tossed the occasional critique my way -- "we're a little fast, slow to two-one-zero knots" -- made me want to pop him one. Unfortunately, my hands were full (I had the flightstick in one and a beer in the other) so I let it go.

To The Limit

The runway was very close, so the act of arming the speedbrake and dropping the gear and flaps happened in a blur (I think that jerkwad approach controller was just messing with me by throwing out that last-minute bootleg turn). Runway 35 looked impossibly short (it actually measures in at 9,200 feet) but I managed to wrestle my overspeed 747 down to the threshold without too much drama, unless you count having to put my beer down for a minute. As soon as I felt the tires bite I slammed the throttles into full reverse and squeezed on the brakes. Despite my excess speed -- I'd hit the runway at 180 knots instead of the recommended 155 --I was able to haul the Boeing to a stop with about 10 feet to spare.


This calls for a celebration! Time for a beer. Sipping carefully (I had to, I'd already guzzled five Sleemans, and this was my last) I began planning an awesome follow-up attempt where I would let the 747's autopilot controls do all the work. Go ahead tower guy, command me. And he did. "Turn right to heading 150." No problem, a few mouse clicks on the HDG (heading hold) button and we bank nicely to the right. Descend and maintain 12,000 feet. Easy peasy, a buncha clicks on the autopilot's altitude counter and we begin descending smoothly at 1,800 feet per minute. Hell, with both hands now freed up I even had time to work the corkscrew on that bottle of Pinot. Nice of these guys at Boeing to build a drunk-proof plane.

Magic Buttons

My new system worked out well until I had a visual on the runway and that annoying dude in the right seat (I decided to call him Marvin) started droning on about some checklist. Time to take this baby home. I hit the APP (approach hold) button and raised my wine glass to the screen as I waited to ride that magic ILS beam all the way down to the ground. After some unexpectedly wild banking maneuvers, however, I watched dejectedly as the stall horn went off and was followed by some automated voice that kept jabbering about "sink rate, sink rate, sink rate." Moments later we pancaked into some apartment building on the outskirts of the airport. Good thing this was a simulator, cuz I'm pretty sure my wine would've been all over the front windshield in a real 747.


I still had half a bottle left, so I valiantly gave it two more tries, this time without those defective autopilot buttons. The first attempt was pretty ugly, even by my inebriated standards, because I had decided to mute my PC's volume so I didn't have to listen to the tower or Marvin. I wound up flying around in circles for about 10 minutes trying to find the damned airport, and eventually ran into one of those 14,000-foot mountains while topping up my wine (forgot about the pause button).

Outta Fuel

Attempt two was no better. Even though I'd turned the comms back on and I was able to locate the airport this time, I wound up lawn-darting into that same apartment building (they sure build those things tough in Ecuador) while in the midst of a yelling match with Marvin when I couldn't find my wine glass. The tragedy is that he didn't steal it -- the glass was under my desk and had been empty for several minutes.

Out of potable liquids and concerned that my wife might wake up and ask who I was arguing with, I closed FSX down and made my way unsteadily to bed. I do vow to return give it another try though. Just as soon as I give my pride (and my liver) a chance to recover.