It’s a little disorienting at first, flying 1500 feet in the air with nothing between me and the ground but a mythical winged horse. As we crest over a small rise I glance down past Shadow’s flapping wing — for the record, I’ve named my Pegasus “Shadow” — when suddenly the rocky hillside below gives way to a sheer, grass-covered canyon. A jolt of pure adrenaline flushes through me as I feel like I’m going to die. But then I feel free. It’s just Shadow and me now, soaring off into the bright blue sky.
Peace out, Earth. Nice knowing you.
“Cool, right?” says a disembodied voice behind me.
For the past 10 minutes I’ve been huffing away on a bike in a drab office at VirZoom, an American-based tech company in Massachusetts, about 2km from Harvard University. And the voice I hear behind me isn’t disembodied at all — it’s coming from VirZoom exec Spencer Honeyman. He’s actually standing nearby, but I can’t see him because I’m wearing an HTC Vive virtual-reality headset, which works in conjunction with my present ride — the R5 250 VirZoom stationary VR bike that’s
