A hot air balloon ride, a crash landing and a little molestation

Being part of the media has its perks at times and yesterday is an example of that. There are only two days out of the entire year that hot air balloons can lift off from the Palo Duro Canyon – yesterday and tomorrow. Yesterday morning was media day so Michele and I, with the photographer, got up at 4 a.m. to meet the balloon crews at 5:15. We caravanned down to the canyon and after waiting for the winds to subside the balloons started inflating around 6:30 a.m. The photographer was definitely going up, but it was unclear as to whether or not there would be a spot for me. At the last minute, I was invited to a basket.

Of course, I had to pull my own weight and help blow up the balloon in which I’d eventually ride. The propane flames were a bit scary but it was nice to feel the heat since it was a chilly 26 degrees yesterday morning (which is why I wore a huge Stay-Puff Marshmallow down jacket).

I wasn’t nervous until I got in the basket. The space is limited and, being tall, the edge of the basket came up to my hips. One moment of dizziness and I’d topple over.

There were still a few balloons inflating on the ground after we took off, so it was neat to see (from above) how that process worked. The ride was very calm and peaceful, and as I understood how the flight functioned, I felt quite safe.

Each balloon is a unique design, and when they’re sprinkled across the sky like this, the sunlight makes them glow.

We flew out of the Palo Duro Canyon and went wherever the wind took us, which was northeast. We saw deer, wild boars, and plenty of working farms and ranches as we floated across the plains. The only sound, aside from our chatter, was the blowing of the fire to keep us afloat. Otherwise, there was no sound, no noise and nothing to distract the view.

Now onto the landing.

I instinctively knew that we wouldn’t casually “land” and hop out of the basket with no impact, but I honestly did NOT expect to bobble along the ground, being dragged across the dirt, lifting off and landing over and over again until the balloon lost enough air and couldn’t pull us anymore. We fell sideways, and you have to hang onto the ropes or you fall out of the basket, and you can’t help but fall ON each other, which was mildly uncomfortable considering I was with two strangers. By the time we stopped and it was safe to get out, I was shaken and my lower back was throbbing. My shoulders ached from holding on so tightly, and my nerves were shot.

You literally crawl out of the basket on its side. 

Don’t get me wrong – going up in a hot air balloon was a great experience! But let my landing story be a lesson to future balloonists. Hang on and get ready to crash into the earth. 🙂

The other part of my experience was this: It appears that every ballooning team has an initiation ceremony for first-timers. Shortly after we landed and Michele found us (via maps and phone calls!), she got a phone call from our photorapher, Shannon. He wanted to warn me. The phone call went something like this –

“Has Jennie landed yet?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s right here,” said Michele. We had walked over to my car so I could my camera away. I then needed to go back and help the team pack up the balloon.

“Well, don’t leave her alone with them. They’re going to do something to her. I just got dumped on with dirt and water! They made me get down on my knees and told me they were going to pray, and then I got mudded!”

He went on to explain that they do a little something special for balloon virgins, and that “something” involved mud with Shannon. After we packed up the balloon, one of the guys said, “Well, there are some things we need to take care of…”

To which I quickly responded, “PLEASE DON”T HURT ME! I have to go back to work, so please don’t do anything with mud!”

They laughed and said, “No, you need to sign our guestbook and then we have something else for you.”

I signed the book with caution and waited for what they were about to do. Out comes Tom, the pilot, with a little pin with a balloon on it. He went to explain the detail in the pin, as it’s an image of the valley in Albuquerque (where they’re from) and their balloon floating across the sky.

Then he says, “I have to pin this on you, and women get pinned closest to their hearts while men get pinned closest to their brain, and you have to wear it for 24 hours straight or you lose what’s behind it.”

I didn’t get it until AFTER THE FACT, but essentially meant that I was going to pinned right on my chest, and had I been a guy, one of the ladies would pinned it on the front of my pants. But, I’m a girl, so Tom came right over, unzipped my jacket, and went for my sweater. I was wearing two layers and I said, “You can put it on the top sweater.”

“No, it needs to be closest to your heart,” he said, and with that, the man stuck his hand UP MY SHIRT to attach the pin right over my unmentionables.

“I’M MARRIED!” I yelled, sucking my stomach to my spine and pulling away from his hand. They all laughed as his pinned me and sure enough, it was square over my left breast. Wow. I just got felt up by a balloonist.

On the way back to the car, I confessed to Michele, “Well, I’d rather be felt up than mudded.”

She burst into laughter and I crawled into my car, sore from my first hot air balloon ride and having gotten to first base with a stranger. Not bad for an early morning.