Written by George Scott
Photos by Christina Gregg
I developed a fear of heights within a few years of having my first child. While riding along with him on the skytram at Lagoon (you know, the chair lift. Yeah, the chair lift), I suddenly had this anxious feeling he was going to slip through the bar and fall. This created an irrational fear that rooted deeply within me instantaneously. Though it has reduced some over the years, it has not completely gone away. It was only in very recent years that getting on a ladder over 6 feet off the ground didn’t cause shaking that in and of itself could cause a fall. So what in the world was I doing at the 16th annual Panguitch Balloon Rally in Panguitch, Utah? Answer: Having the time of my life!
This adventure started a week prior when I excitedly—and hesitantly at the same time—decided to go for a balloon ride. I had a week to calm myself and rid myself of all sorts of dreamt up tragic scenarios. I prepared my mind—along with my last will and testament—to relinquish thoughts of the possibility of the balloon popping, the flame not lighting, the basket coming untied, the basket giving out from underneath, the wind catching the balloon and blowing us like a ragdoll wherever it should blow, or…. well, I think I made my point.
I announced the upcoming ride—including to my girlfriend who would accompany me on the trip to take photos—in hopes that committing publicly would keep me determined to face my fear. Everyone was excited for me and loaned me all sorts of courage. Well, there were a couple of “friends” with whom I am in the process of re-evaluating our relationship. For example, Tamra wished me well but insisted she wanted my possessions should I not return. Then there was Justin who started by telling me he thought I was going to love it. Had he stopped there, we might still be on speaking terms.
“You are going to be hundreds of feet in the air held aloft by a bed sheet full of hot air whilst standing in a wicker basket,” he continued. “What could possibly go wrong?”
Thankfully, I did not get his message until after I returned.
The balloon ride required us to be in Panguitch by 6 a.m. on Friday, June 26, so we decided to find a place to stay in Cedar City in order to also attend Groovefest. In checking our options, I stumbled on a place called Willow Glen Inn. Wow! I will definitely be sharing more about this gorgeous place. We had a little bit of time that evening to wander a portion of the 9.5 acre spread of this quaint rustic bed and breakfast and were immediately in heaven. In addition, they knew we would be leaving very early the next morning well ahead of breakfast, so they were kind enough to pack us a sack breakfast with muffins, fruit, and treats. That’s hospitality.
After getting settled in at Willow Glen Inn, we still had time to make it to the Groovefest kick-off party with Soul What!? at Mike’s Tavern. Attending the show meant we would be up late, but it was Soul What!? and they cannot be missed. As usual, they did not disappoint. They brought their flavor of groovy soul as they blew the festival wide open for the weekend. Some dinner, dancing, and music allowed for the weekend to begin.
The next morning, even though we were tired, the excitement for the adventure ahead fueled us with the energy to get going. We grabbed our breakfast sacks and headed toward our final destination (wait, that sounds…well, exactly what I was still worried about) destination.
We didn’t run out of fuel, have a flat tire, or any other mechanical glitch that I may have secretly hoped would be my legitimate excuse to opt out. We safely arrived to a field filled with vehicles and trailers with license plates from all over the nation. Following a short gathering to run through the schedule, we were matched with our pilot and crew.
Don Edwards was our pilot, with Len and Shirley Wysocki as our crew and chasers. As we made introductions and began to prepare our vessel (which sounded much safer than “balloon”) for flight, it became apparent we were in very capable hands. Hearing of Don’s experience and passion for flying lessened the tension considerably. His first flight in 1986 as a passenger resulted in him deciding he was going to learn to fly himself. I guess you could accurately say, he fell in love at first flight. In fact, he was so determined, he purchased his first balloon prior to having secured his license. He has been flying ever since, flying in nearly all the states as well as a dozen or so countries around the globe.
The operation of a balloon takes teamwork, and we jumped right in to prepare this colorful “bed sheet” to take to the sky. Doing so both kept my mind occupied and invested me in the flight. By the time the envelope (that’s balloonist-speak for “balloon”) was laid out, the basket attached, and the fan was inflating the balloon, it was nearly too late to back out. Oh yeah, and somewhere in there, I already had signed some legal jargon-filled waiver promising to hold no one liable for my demise.
Following some basic safety instructions, we hopped into the basket, and it was a done deal. The flame heated the air inside the envelope, making it lighter than the air around it and thus creating lift. Don continued to pull the trigger, igniting a 10-foot flame that was swallowed by the cooler air inside the balloon until we were rising far enough off the ground that I could no longer jump safely out.
It took a few minutes to adjust and maintain my wits, but the smoothness and calmness of the balloon gently floating in the breeze made doing so easy. Looking out across the horizon and seeing the majesty of the mountains, trees, and ground…
no, wait…don’t look straight down…that kind of takes your breath away in a freakish way…back to the mountains and trees…
and I was okay.
As all of the balloons filled the sky (I counted 36), the sight was nothing short of magical. The colors, shapes, and sizes of three dozen balloons floating above the beauty of the landscape made this experience breathtaking—this time in a spectacular way.
Have you ever walked on a cloud? Me either, but I believe I now know what it feels like. We mostly just floated with the breeze and quietly took in the view with the occasional roar of the propane-fueled fire feeding the balloon to keep us afloat. Don explained that there is no steering with a balloon. A pilot only has up and down control. Movement is determined by favorable air currents. More than once, Don stated he would rather be lucky than good. However, in my judgment, he was both. He watched other balloons and the direction they floated dependent upon the air streams at different heights. He navigated us back and forth within a short distance of the launching field for nearly an hour, allowing the chase team to remain put. Catching the breeze and riding it to and fro had us hovering approximately 350 feet above the ground at points during our flight.
It is easy to get lost in the experience with the sensational flood of senses rushing in. The breathtaking views, the feel of weightlessness while floating, the sounds, the smells, the warmth of the heat emanating from the fire breathing burst of flames feeding the balloon. All of these things are felt individually but culminate into one amazing grand buffet of pleasure that truly needs to be experienced rather than only read about. When the basket finally touched back down on the ground, I knew this was an experience I will seek to have again and again.
The skill of our pilot brought us within 100 feet of where we had taken off from over an hour earlier. We assisted in packing the balloon as we visited more. Once the labor was done, Don broke out a bottle of champagne and proceeded to tell us a story of why the tradition of champagne is coupled with a balloon ride.
He said that the hot air balloon is the oldest successful human-carrying flight vessel. The first untethered manned hot air balloon flight was performed in Paris in 1783. When farmers saw this contraption arrive, they thought it something dangerous and perhaps from out of this world, and would attack the balloons with pitchforks and all manners of weapons, thereby wreaking havoc on the balloon and ultimately destroying it. Proving to be very costly, it was decided to travel with champagne and offer to the farmers as gifts. Every since, the tradition has remained.
Don completed the story by reciting a toast called “A Balloonist’s Prayer.”
The Winds have welcomed you with softness;
The Sun has blessed you with his warm hands;
You have flown so high, and so well,
God has joined you in your laughter;
And set you gently back again,
Into the loving arms of Mother Earth.
Even though the flight had ended, an invite to a tailgate BBQ with our team and the other balloonist’s allowed for our spirits to continue to soar. The camaraderie of balloonist’s was welcoming and endearing. Laughing, cooking, eating, joking, and storytelling filled the pavilion. It wasn’t even noon, and we had just made more connections, built more memories, and had one of the greatest adventures in this day than I could have imagined. And I’m still here to safely share the experience.
