Went on my first-ever balloon ride the other day. I have a bit of vertigo—a bit, means I can’t look either straight down or straight up without getting a tad dizzy—so it might be surprising that ballooning was on my bucket list. But it was.
We are on-site at 5:30 in the morning. It’s pitch dark on those wine country roads, and there is no moonlight. After turning onto a dirt road, we see a man waving a LED flashlight, directing us to the parking lot.
After we sign the liability wavers, we climb into a van with 10 other folks and begin the search for a suitable lift off location. You can’t lift off a balloon with cloud cover! Sunny California isn’t always sunny!
Forty minutes later and not far from Palm Springs—as the crow flies—the van pulls into a vast field. A long plastic drop cloth is spread down first. Then the balloon is unrolled. Next, two 3-ft wide fans blow cool air into the balloon. Two balloon-guys on either end hold on to ropes as the balloon fills. Hot air is blown in last. Our balloon is 8 stories high!
We climb into the wicker basket with the others and begin our ascent skyward. Every time the ballooner twists on the propane—to heat up the air—the top of my head grows hot. The propane flame burst is LOUD. Short, but loud. Impossible to talk over.
Otherwise, it is peaceful floating at 1800 feet. Sound travels, though. We can hear dogs barking from a long way off. Occasionally, a waft of a breeze propels us forward, but we do not go very far. Maybe a mile.
Scouts drive around below us—directed by our walkie-talkie holding balloon operator above—making friends with the land owners of the fields we hover above.
Neighbors from all around drive over fallow fields and scrubby hills in trucks, cars, ATV’s, and golf carts to watch the balloon land in their neighbor’s yard. It’s a gentle touch down—we don’t have to use the hand ropes or assume the landing position. A great way to start the morning. Next stop: the local wineries!
