I ran ahead to see if we could get on that balloon. A calm worker told me they had enough people on it already but that they would be taking a second group up after this one. He assured me we could get on the next ride. Comforted, I went back to the car and joined my date in dozing off in the artificial heat my engine produced.
About an hour later, I stirred after I heard some voices and realized the balloon was back. We got out of the car into the chilly morning air and lined up behind the huge wicker basket. (We resembled fruit being loaded for a picnic. With our fleece jackets, we mostly resembled peaches and rotten blueberries.)
We snuggled into the perimeter of the basket, which held a furnace-like flame-thrower in the center. About twelve of us fit in along with the Torch Tender man. (Perhaps he’s called a pilot but I don’t remember. I’ll stick with Torch Tender, if you don’t mind.)
The Torch Tender’s job is rather self explanatory. He pulls a handle, which produces a large, loud flame. When the handle is held down, the flame roars, and the balloon rises.
The Torch Tender fired up the flame of our balloon with one long burst and we started our rapid ascent. My date and I were pressed against the side and were pretty exhilarated by the sudden lift sensation. It would’ve seemed so effortless had it not been for the thunderous blast of the flame filling our ears as the hot blaze singed the backs of our necks.
The calm serenity of the skies was interrupted every minute or so throughout the ride by the heat blast that eliminated all other sounds from the world.
Since the only directionals a hot air balloon has are up and down, it is very dependent on the winds. The balloon workers have no idea where each balloon ride will land. Two workers travel in a white pickup truck tailing the balloon—on highway or dirt roads—like cops on a speed chase.
