Stick around Los Santos long enough and you'll stop caring about checklists and start chasing dumb, beautiful stunts, the kind you swear you'll only try once. The one that keeps pulling people back is landing a helicopter on a moving car, and the funniest part is how it turns into a whole little obsession. You'll be lining up on the freeway, hands sweating, thinking about rotor clearance and speed matching, and then you remember you still need cash for repairs and upgrades—so yeah, GTA 5 Money ends up on your mind even when you're "just messing around".
Why this stunt feels personal
It's not like flying under a bridge where the bridge politely stays put. Cars don't. They wander. They brake for no reason. They drift into your lane like they're trying to start a fight. When you're hovering low, that roof is a postage stamp, and the game loves punishing you for being a millimetre off. You can be perfectly centred, then the driver panics, taps the brakes, and your skids clip the trunk. Not a crash, not yet. Just enough to bounce you sideways and ruin the whole approach. And you feel it in your gut because you know it was almost clean.
Poles, palms, and other quiet killers
The real enemy isn't the car. It's the stuff you forget is there. Light poles, signs, those overpasses that look miles away until they're suddenly in your face. You get tunnel vision, you stare at the target like it's a landing pad in a war film, and then—tick—your rotor taps a streetlight. That tiny touch turns into the classic GTA physics tantrum: wobble, scrape, flip, fireball. Out in the hills it's even meaner. You'd think a palm tree would bend a bit. It doesn't. You kiss a frond and the chopper reacts like you've hit concrete at full tilt.
Make it doable, not heroic
If you want a real shot, don't bring a helicopter that handles like a shopping trolley. Grab something nimble, keep the nose light, and practise hovering at car speed before you even try to set down. A flatbed helps because you've got space to be sloppy, but it's still a moving platform with traffic doing its own thing. Try following the truck for a bit, watch how it takes curves, then come in from behind and slightly above. Ease down. Don't drop. The moment you get impatient, you'll catch a barrier, skid sideways, and you're buying a new bird again.
That one clean landing
When it finally works, it's weirdly quiet. The skids settle, the chopper stops fighting you, and for a second you're just gliding on top of some poor driver's day. Then you laugh, because it's ridiculous that this is what you're doing with your time. But you'll do it again. You'll do it because it's hard, because it's messy, and because every failure costs you—fuel, armour, replacements—so having a plan to buy GTA 5 Money in RSVSR makes the whole stunt loop feel a lot less painful mid-session.
Why this stunt feels personal
It's not like flying under a bridge where the bridge politely stays put. Cars don't. They wander. They brake for no reason. They drift into your lane like they're trying to start a fight. When you're hovering low, that roof is a postage stamp, and the game loves punishing you for being a millimetre off. You can be perfectly centred, then the driver panics, taps the brakes, and your skids clip the trunk. Not a crash, not yet. Just enough to bounce you sideways and ruin the whole approach. And you feel it in your gut because you know it was almost clean.
Poles, palms, and other quiet killers
The real enemy isn't the car. It's the stuff you forget is there. Light poles, signs, those overpasses that look miles away until they're suddenly in your face. You get tunnel vision, you stare at the target like it's a landing pad in a war film, and then—tick—your rotor taps a streetlight. That tiny touch turns into the classic GTA physics tantrum: wobble, scrape, flip, fireball. Out in the hills it's even meaner. You'd think a palm tree would bend a bit. It doesn't. You kiss a frond and the chopper reacts like you've hit concrete at full tilt.
Make it doable, not heroic
If you want a real shot, don't bring a helicopter that handles like a shopping trolley. Grab something nimble, keep the nose light, and practise hovering at car speed before you even try to set down. A flatbed helps because you've got space to be sloppy, but it's still a moving platform with traffic doing its own thing. Try following the truck for a bit, watch how it takes curves, then come in from behind and slightly above. Ease down. Don't drop. The moment you get impatient, you'll catch a barrier, skid sideways, and you're buying a new bird again.
That one clean landing
When it finally works, it's weirdly quiet. The skids settle, the chopper stops fighting you, and for a second you're just gliding on top of some poor driver's day. Then you laugh, because it's ridiculous that this is what you're doing with your time. But you'll do it again. You'll do it because it's hard, because it's messy, and because every failure costs you—fuel, armour, replacements—so having a plan to buy GTA 5 Money in RSVSR makes the whole stunt loop feel a lot less painful mid-session.
