Checking the hot air balloon experience off my bucket list in 2018.
About this time last year, I sat in Des Moines, IA thinking about experiences I still wanted to have, making a bucket list for next year. “Hot air balloon festival” definitely went on the list. I’ve been watching for one in all the places I’ve been so far this year, but they were too far away or at a different time of year.
But here in North Carolina, north of Charlotte, the Carolina Balloon Festival was taking place not too far from me. I bought tickets for a Sunday morning and crossed my fingers for good weather because in case of rain and/or wind, the balloons simply can’t operate.
There was rain on Friday, and bad weather on Saturday, too. Saturday night I went to see The House with a Clock in its Walls, an amazing throwback to the quirky, surreal books of my childhood. The movie is based on a book by John Bellairs by the same title, and it’s about a young boy named Louis who is suddenly orphaned, goes to live with his magical uncle, and develops magic of his own. “There is only one of you in the entire universe,” one of the main characters told Louis. “Everyone has their own genius.” In the movie, evil was defeated and Louis learned to accept himself for the oddball that he was. I loved it! Anyway, the weather was deliciously gloomy for the movie, but I wondered if any balloons would fly the next day.
Sunday I rose at 5:30 a.m., picked up Starbucks at six, and drove north to a park-n-ride south of Statesville. It was dark and cold the whole drive. I had only a little difficulty finding the park-n-ride at a fairgrounds. I was on one of the first shuttles to depart to the festival. On the bus, many had the same idea I did: many hands held Starbucks cups full of warm coffee. Most of us had coats and/or blankets, too.
It was still dark when our shuttle pulled up at the festival, and the day’s volunteers were just finding their rhythm. I passed through a bag security check (just like at the fair. Apparently security is quite a concern here) and showed my e-ticket at the booth. Walking on, there was just a big field. A few people on blankets were settled there, waiting in the dark.
I settled myself on a little rise and waited for morning, huddled in my blanket.
Slowly, golden sunrise light started creeping upon us. Below me in the field, big pickup trucks revved their engines and drove through the grass. Soon, balloons began to be unpacked. And at last balloons were filled with hot air and began lifting off.
It was clear as soon as the first two balloons took off that although the sky was clear, the wind was much too strong to be safe for flight. So, many of the balloons simply inflated and stayed on the ground, a colorful display for all of us observers, massive things several stories high.
I realized that hot air balloons are truly the most rustic thrill I know of. There’s very little machinery involved: hot air balloons harness the laws of physics with just a light woven basket below piles of fabric balloon powered by flame-lit air. In this way, they seem simple and a little old-fashioned.
They also seem unpredictable in a way that is now rare. In an age of air traffic controllers and drone regulations, hot air balloons mostly go where the wind takes them. Once a pilot is aloft, they have few options at hand to control the balloon. Pilots of more sophisticated, technologically advanced machines have more control over their destiny. It can be fun to float free, but also dangerous. That’s why many days, balloons never get off the ground.
Sometimes, from some trick of the air, the balloons would start to collapse, and the big puff of fabric would slowly topple to the ground as we all laughed and ran out of the way, pointing cameras. Then the mechanics would come and tug the balloon back into position to re-inflate. An amazing thing to watch, but it just added to our respect for the daring pilots who rode these things so high into the sky.
We got back onto the shuttle before much of the morning had passed. The day had turned out crystal blue with hardly a cloud in the sky. I could feel it in the air: fall had finally arrived. It was good to be in North Carolina for the season, even if I, like a hot air balloon, was just blown in by the wind.
~ The Dauntless Princess ~
