Bethesda, Maryland, isn’t where you expect to find an airliner. Yet in the corner of a shopping mall sits Dream Aero, home to a full-motion Boeing 737NG simulator. Step inside and you’re surrounded by switches, screens, and the hum of a platform designed to mimic a real aircraft.
The simulator’s cockpit replicates a 737 Next-Generation (NG) down to the details. The yoke provides proper resistance through its cable-and-pulley mechanics, and the rudder pedals push back with weight. Outside the windows, a wrap-around visual system projects 220 degrees of scenery, airports, and weather effects with surprisingly sharp resolution.
The motion base beneath the cockpit is what sets it apart from desktop trainers. Six hydraulic actuators move in all directions, translating commands into pitch, roll, yaw, and the jolts of turbulence. Even idle vibrations—the faint rattle of engines at low power—are recreated.
“It’s the only one in the United States that a civilian can walk into that’s full motion,” Captain Mark Weiss said.
Weiss knows the difference. He spent decades at American Airlines flying aircraft from the Fokker 100 to the 777. The 737, he explained, is unique in that its controls are mechanical rather than fly-by-wire.
“The 737, even today—even the Max—is not fly-by-wire. It’s cable driven,” Weiss said.
He was drawn to Dream Aero the week it opened.
“When they first opened, I said, ‘Oh, my God, this is incredible,’” Weiss recalled.
Today, he spends several days a week introducing strangers to the cockpit.
Custom Experience
Every visit begins with the same question from Weiss: “What do you want to do today?”
“Some people want to fly over their hometown,” he said. “Some want to practice takeoffs and landings. Others want to try the river visual into Washington National [KDCA] in bad weather. It depends on what they’re looking for.”
I chose a departure from Reagan National to Washington Dulles [KIAD]. After a briefing, we strapped in and began taxiing. The platform rumbled, the yoke pressed back against my hands, and the runway stretched out ahead. When I pushed the throttles forward, the motion base tilted sharply as the soundscape roared.
Our instructor pilot called out V-speeds in a practiced cadence. The nose lifted, the platform surged, and the scenery dropped away. Climbing through scattered clouds, the cockpit shook lightly.
“I try to explain how pilots react to turbulence, what the workload is, and what passengers might expect,” the instructor said.
Leveling off, the instructor pointed at the Potomac River glinting through the windshield.
Fear of Flying
The realism isn’t just for thrills. Many visitors arrive terrified of flying.
“We get a lot of fearful flyers,” Weiss said. “I explain why they might feel that way, and that the structural integrity of the aircraft isn’t going to be in question.”
The simulator is also a testing ground for future aviators.
“We get teenagers who think they want to be pilots,” Weiss said. “They sit in the left seat, push the throttles forward, and realize this is the real thing. Some decide right here to pursue flight training. Parents call me later and say their kid is now at flight school.”
Not all the visitors are novices.
“Sully’s been in there,” Weiss said of “Miracle on the Hudson” famous Chesley Sullenberger.
Agencies, including the FAA and National Transportation Safety Board, have also used the simulator for demonstrations and accident investigation scenarios.
Dream Aero advertises its simulator as meeting most ICAO standards for a Type VII device. That means its fidelity aligns with many training systems, though it stops short of FAA certification.
“People ask if they can log this time. The answer is no,” Weiss said.
The technical fidelity is the reason instructors like Weiss can use it for real lessons. Pitch and roll rates are modeled accurately, with control responsiveness mapped to Boeing specifications. The visual system can reproduce night landings, low visibility, or thunderstorms.
For Weiss, teaching in the simulator is an extension of his airline career.
“It’s not just a job,” he said. “It’s a commitment to humanity, in some ways, to pass it along.”
After an hour, the simulator powered down. The cockpit went quiet, screens fading to black. The instructor looked over. “So, what did you think?” I told him it was more physical, more demanding than I expected. The sense of workload was real, even though no lives were at stake.
Dream Aero may sit in a shopping center, but once the platform starts moving, it becomes its own world. For nervous flyers, it’s reassurance. For aspiring pilots, it’s inspiration. For Weiss, it’s a chance to keep teaching the craft that defined his life.
“You get to open up a whole world for people,” he said.
