Going With the Flow
June 11, 2009
Hot air ballooning is one
of those life experiences people check off somewhere
between skydiving and seeing the Grand Canyon.
Like
many, I’ve always been transfixed by the rare
and almost magical sight of a rainbow-hued balloon
drifting above the trees on a lazy June afternoon.
My motivation to spend 60 minutes in a five-foot-wide
basket 1,000 feet above ground was to conquer a fear
of flying. Hot air ballooning was my way to literally
embrace new heights.
A Yankee
Balloon, LLC, is one of several ballooning companies
based in Connecticut. Flights depart out of the Southbury
area. “There’s a lot more open space there
than in lower Fairfield County,” explains owner
and operator Bill Colyer, a Fairfield resident. Colyer
is an FAA-certified commercial pilot and flight instructor
with more than 30 years of experience. He first became
intrigued by ballooning during a visit to Greece in
1973, where he heard about someone attempting to cross
the Atlantic in a balloon. Colyer’s curiosity
became a passion and eventually a career.
A Yankee
Balloon was founded in 1992. Colyer offers service
to at least two passengers at a time. Individual trips
cost about $250. In addition to his company operation,
Colyer provides tethered balloon experiences for events,
from birthday parties to corporate banquets to town
fairs. He primarily uses one Lindstrand model balloon.
Lindstrand, a leading balloon manufacturer, gives
balloonists the opportunity to pick their balloon’s
design and colors.
Colyer
also enjoys competitive ballooning. He attends about
a dozen balloon events a year, from the world-renowned
Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta to the Waiarapa
and Waikato Festivals in New Zealand. He’s served
as balloonmeister (lead organizer) of many ballooning
events in the northeast and has won top prize at the
Great New England Balloon Festival, New Jersey Festival
of Ballooning and Connecticut’s Goshen Fair.
He has sailed over fields in Ireland and traversed
the snow-capped edges of the Austrian Alps.
I met
Colyer and his longtime partner Pat Anderson in a
commuter lot in Southbury. Flights are usually held
at daybreak or twilight, when winds are calmest. I’d
chosen a twilight trip. The team was easy to spot:
The giant wicker basket affixed to the back of a van
was sort of a giveaway. Hanging from the basket was
a placard titled “Last Penny,” a nod to
the expensiveness of balloon equipment (averaging
$35,000 for both basket and balloon, costs rise even
further with routine maintenance). Surrounding Colyer
and Anderson were several veteran balloonists who
would serve as “balloon chasers,” helping
us launch and land. Also on board: my old college
roommate and her mother. Ever since seeing the film
adaptation of Around the World In 80 Days, my roommate’s
mother had dreamed of going ballooning.
Shortly
after meeting at 5 p.m., we piled into the van to
find the ideal launch spot. We first stopped at an
old airfield in Roxbury. After a few minutes of measuring
wind strength and direction, however, Colyer and his
colleagues decided another place might be better.
We soon reached a giant pasture in Southbury. The
deflated balloon was stored in the back of the van.
It took about 30 minutes to fill it. A gasoline-powered
fan is used to blow outside air into the envelope
(the balloon itself). Typically balloons weigh about
275 pounds. The cold air partially inflates the balloon
to establish its basic shape before the propane-driven
burner flame is aimed into the mouth to heat the air
inside. By the time we climbed into the basket, it
was after 6 p.m.
Our ascension
was very rapid. It felt like we were on a reverse
roller coaster, racing up instead of down. Colyer
seemed to read my thoughts — or perhaps my petrified
face. “You’re experiencing something new
and your body is getting used to it,” he said.
We’d
just leveled at 800 feet and I was witnessing the
most spectacular views I’d ever seen so close.
At that moment I realized it was all worth it. The
silence was markedly peaceful. The only sound was
propane burning. The sound of propane shooting through
the burner is sudden and noisy, accompanied by a burst
of heat and flames. Colyer told me pilots must be
cautious about operating burners too close to livestock,
since the sound can startle them. Fortunately, we
were high enough to avoid scaring the horses, cows,
chickens and deer we spied.
Later,
in a heavily wooded area, we descended to treetop
level. The branches actually scraped the underside
of our basket. “Going through trees could look
dangerous to passerby,” Anderson said. “We’ve
gotten 911 calls from people afraid we were crashing.”
During balloon festivals, balloons sometimes drift
close enough to each other to “kiss,” or
touch fabric.
There is no formal steering mechanism. Pilots can
navigate up and down based on altitude and wind speed.
But there is no way to select a specific destination
to land. The only way to operate is to pack plenty
of propane (40 gallons on average) and launch in the
direction of known “soft landings,” away
from power lines, water, swamps, buildings and houses.
This is why our hour flight lasted over two hours
and covered nearly 20 miles. Our target fields were
either too distant or so close we couldn’t land
safely at the relatively high wind speeds.
As we drifted fairly low
to the ground, wondering when we might land, we marveled
at how excited people were to see us. Children got
off their bicycles to stare and wave. Cars stopped
along the road to watch. One family invited us to
dinner.
We finally landed on some grass outside an office
building, a hillside blocking the wind. The landing
was more slam and bounce than slow and soft. Ballooning’s
unpredictability is precisely what makes it so exciting.
We ended the evening with the traditional champagne
toast, complete with fruit, cheese and crackers served
on plastic plates adorned with drawings of, yes, hot-air
balloons. We each received honorary certificates and
keepsake wine corks and pennies.
Going With the Flow
