R and J in the USA

There is no better place to get to know new folks than floating 1000 feet up in the air suspended in an 8×4 foot (give or take) wicker basket.

Well, actually, we did most of our getting to know folks while on the ground before or after our very first hot air balloon experience. While up in the air, there was a lot of silent revelry going on during the 60 minute ride. We are tentative to call it an adventure or thrill ride because, though it seemed, going into it, a thrilling and adventurous thing to do, to float up in the air dangling from a massive hot air-filled piece of nylon with a bunch of strangers and 80-100 pounds of propane, is surprisingly peaceful. It is more akin to being a cloud than anything else we can think of to describe it. 

It turns out that everyone we would be going up in the balloon with was also a first-timer, except, of course, our wonderful hot air balloon pilot, Anthony, who instilled us all with retrospective confidence once we landed when he said, “Thanks for joining me on my third day up in the air.” We already knew he was joking from what we learned about him during our flight, and, either way, by that time, our feet were safely back on the ground. 

There wasn’t much chatting in the air between us passengers, as we mostly stared out at the beautiful 360 degree (in every plane and direction) scenery standing next to each other like baguettes sticking out of an old-timey, wicker bike basket.

There was, however, lots of chatting going on with our pilot Anthony who had encouraged us to ask questions throughout the trip, letting us know that he may occasionally interrupt us by pulling the lever on the propane causing a loud roar of flames overhead to cancel out any other sound that would be able to be heard. “I still have to fly the balloon.” He explained. We were all quite fine with being interrupted any time. 

The basket was divided into three compartments. One divider at one end was along the short distance of the basket to section off a compartment for Anthony and all of his propane tanks to have room to do their thing, dividing him from us civilians. Then, all of us had a long divider between us going the long way. We stood, like two sleeves of Milano cookies with our tops sticking out of the wicker basket at about our upper bellies to our sternums (depending on how tall a cookie you happen to be). The basket was plenty high enough to keep us feeling safe from any potential accidents, but low enough that we could lean out on our armpits if we wanted to, looking out across the Albuquerque valley or directly down below if we so chose.

At the beginning of the ride, we both found ourselves leaning decidedly towards the center of the wicker basket away from the edge, which gave us all of 4 extra inches of distance from it, even holding onto the little handholds that were inside of the basket that were specifically there to hold onto in case of a potentially rocky, basket-tipping landing. We were not quite scared, not quite nervous, but just not quite fully steady in our new physical reality, that is until our lizard brains acclimated enough to start to feel confident and comfortable. Where at the beginning, we could barely look at any angle other than straight out to the horizon, by the end, we were in full armpit lean on the wicker basket’s strong and comforting edge, dangling our heads right over it, looking directly down with total ease. It’s amazing how quickly the brain and body can normalize a totally knew set of rules for reality.

We were positioned at the end of our human cookie sleeve right next to Anthony’s compartment. There was a couple from Oklahoma in the other cookie sleeve. Since we were the two couples right next to Anthony’s compartment, we were the ones that took him up on his offer to field questions. Between us two couples, we alternated back and forth throughout the flight, with bursts of silent contemplation and enjoyment in between, peppering him sporadically with questions through the duration of the trip about what it’s like flying a hot air balloon, how he got into it and what we were looking at down below and all around us. Other than that, there wasn’t much talking between everyone.

Beforehand, however, having never experienced being a human cloud before, we found ourselves getting to know some of our fellow future human clouds as we all shared the tingling feelings of excitement for the first-time adventure awaiting us. We got to chat with a woman who works as a nurse and lives in Fort Defiance, Arizona on the Navajo reservation near where we had just been. She was originally from Texas and told us that Texas has four very distinct sections within it with four distinct cultures. We told her we were looking forward to learning about it in our next state. She told us she grew up in a town right on the border. “It was a 10 minute walk into Mexico.” She said. Julie was fascinated to ask her questions about life on the border. We also sort of live in a border town, there being no other American town north of us before you get to Toronto. But, for us, it would be a 60 mile swim across Lake Ontario to land in Canada (or a 3 hour drive around the lake), so there isn’t as much of an international feeling. She told us that growing up there, like anyplace, things that wouldn’t seem normal to others was just normal to her. She knew the names of all of the drug dealers and human traffickers. Not that that was a particularly good thing, but it was just part of what was normal in the world she grew up in. Not asking more questions to learn more about that experience of hers is on our list of missed opportunities of the trip, but we enjoyed getting to talk with her as we all awaited the beginning of our floating adventure. She had come to fly in the hot air balloon that day because it was something she had always wanted to do and, one day, realized Albuquerque was only a 3 hour drive and she should just go for it! 

We all watched with anticipation as the quite awesome spectacle of seeing this massive piece of cloth unpackaged and then blown up into the massive hot air balloon that would take us to the sky literally unfolded before our eyes.

In the van on the way over, we sat next to a woman who had also come to check hot air ballooning off of her bucket list while she was in Albuquerque for work (we cannot claim the fantastic bucket list pun for ourselves, seeing as it is Rainbow Ryder’s tag line – they have it printed right on their vans and balloons). Julie struck up a conversation and was immediately impressed by her. We both found Imelda to be a strikingly sweet, kind and absolutely lovely human being. She was all of these things to the point that you might not, at first, notice that she was also a total badass. She didn’t flaunt her badassery. You had to be paying attention to notice it. It was all of the little things. All of the rest of us in the van were covered in warm hats and thick jackets to guard against the 29 degrees of 6:30AM Albuquerque weather. Imelda was dressed for casual style, her hair perfectly straight and uninterrupted by the creases a hat would provide. No gloves either. And no shivers. Julie and Imelda chatted for most of the van ride to the launch site where Julie learned that Imelda was a truck driver. She used to drive an open air truck in which she would cart tomatoes across California and she was ready to take her license up to the full size 53-footers. We asked her what it was like to drive such a big vehicle and whether it was scary. Imelda assured us that, other than backing up, just like anything else, eventually it just becomes normal. Before that, Imelda had been a phlebotomist, another job that makes some people squeamish, but Imelda took on with total ease.

Julie has always been in awe of phlebotomists anytime she goes to get her blood taken, definitely feeling grateful that there are people in the world that have the stomach to do it. Imelda was completely unphased by it, as she appeared to be by anything. She had been ready for a change and had an ex-boyfriend that had been a truck driver and now, here she was in Albuquerque, taking advantage of the moment to fit “hot air ballooning” into her day off. Then, once up in the balloon, unlike us that took a little bit of time to acclimate to our setting before being able to hang over the edge, Imelda was there right from the beginning. Not in any kind of brash or obnoxious way, just that peaceful, comfortable in her skin, relaxed in the moment kind of way that it didn’t take long to realize she likely brought to many places in her world. At one point, Julie looked over and saw her casually resting her forearms on the edge of the basket holding her cell-phone in her hand, either taking pictures or texting. Whatever she was doing, she did it like it was the most casual thing with no worries whatsoever of dropping her phone to fall 600-1000 foot drop it was hovering over casually in her hands. Even though we got comfortable in the basket ourselves, neither of us wanted to hang our cell phone over the edge longer than the milli-second it took to snap a picture. Not Imelda.

She was sweet and kind as can be, and as unassuming a presence, but if we were stuck in a pinch against any kind of odds that might intimidate a lesser soul, we were both sure we’d be glad to have Imelda on our team if we got the chance.

We also have Imelda to thank for telling us about the cookie crawl in Old Town Albuquerque which is where we spent the rest of our morning and it was the perfect way to experience the area. Julie ran into Imelda a few hours later in the small streets of Old Town holding her cookie tin. They greeted each other like old friends, hugging hello and catching up briefly, before moving on back into the distant paths of their lives.

While up in the air, we learned that Anthony had been flying balloons for 8 years after having fallen in love with it as a kid helping out at the balloon festival that takes place in Albuquerque every year when the sky is filled with over 600 balloons. He knew before long that he didn’t want to be helping, he wanted to be the pilot. He moved from the little town of Farmington in northern New Mexico to Albuquerque and got his hot air balloon pilot’s license. He pointed our attention over to the balloon festival field where we could see at least 20 more balloons filling up and getting ready for flight that morning. He explained to us that these were not other companies taking up passengers, but just local ballooners heading up to the skies to enjoy a beautiful day. In Albuquerque, it is just another local recreational activity. Where we come from, on a December day, any number of folks might grab their downhill or cross-country skis, or sleds to head out to enjoy the fun that winter snow avails. Somewhere where the water is warm and waves are high, there are surely folks grabbing their surfboards to enjoy a morning catching some waves. And throughout the country, there are surely people heading out for a Sunday morning fishing adventure or maybe some hunting. There are no doubt people heading out for an early morning hike or neighborhood stroll through whatever scenery they are fortunate to have near them. All across the country and world, people recreate in whatever environment and setting they are living their lives in. And, in Albuquerque, heading up into the sky for some hot air ballooning is on that list. We learned that Anthony has two other balloons of his own, one with a little 2 person basket and one where he is simply harnessed into a little chair, where he can enjoy dangling his feet in the expanse below.

We learned about air currents from Anthony and how he can’t help but spot signs of them everywhere he goes even when he is earthbound. We learned how the speed of the air is different at different levels and that it is the speed of the surface air that determines what kind of landing you have. If the air speed is as high as 10 mph, you can count on having a basket tip over. The highest wind speed Anthony had ever landed in was 23mph. Though he says that most passengers love it when a basket tip happens, for him, sharing a compartment with 3 or 4 massive propane tanks and the weight of liability for whatever happens during that landing (despite the waivers we all signed of course) made him much more fond of the fully upright landings. With a 1 mph surface wind present on our particular day, as we came towards the ground, he informed us all that we didn’t need to assume the bent-knee, rope-holding landing posture he had taught us. We returned to earth with barely a bump.

Back on the ground, the socializing resumed. We chatted with the couple from Kentucky here on vacation that didn’t see themselves as particularly adventurous but, after describing all the trips they’d been on and the various things they’d done on them, were clearer more adventurous than your average couple. Their next stop that day was a 7 mile hike that included some ice-picking. 

Ryan struck up a conversation with the only local person other than Anthony that had been in the basket. While in the basket, he had proclaimed that it had taken him 46 years to finally get around to getting up in the air. He appeared to be in a bucket list phase of his life, like us. He told Ryan about how he had decided years ago that he would finally commit to getting in that wicker basket and sailing up into the skies in which he had witnessed so many balloons do over his decades of living there, but it had taken until the day before when he was finally ready to make his move. He had decided that the day had finally arrived, picked up the phone and now, here he was. Ryan learned about his sky-diving experience that he had done the year before. He told Ryan that, while up in the plane, he had been so terrified that he could not get his body to physically move to the point that he had to manually move his legs with his arms to get his body to the edge of the plane. Once he and his tandem guide were out of the plane, he loved it. Ryan peppered him with more questions and learned that next on his list was to check off a visit to Niagara Falls. Ryan told him about making sure to see it from the Canadian side and his eyes lit up. He would have to renew his passport, but said he had to, “I can’t be that close to Canada and not go there.” For him, Canada seemed to be as exotic a land as Mexico was to us, and vice versa, Mexico, to him was as unexotic a place as Canada was to us. It makes sense, but it is still an interesting phenomenon we find all over. Sometimes it takes a little distance and inaccessibility of a place for a person to really be able to appreciate what it is.

While all of us were socializing, the folks of the Rainbow Ryders company were busy folding up that huge nylon balloon and loading the basket back onto the flat bed and Anthony was busy setting up a little party. It is tradition in the hot air balloon flying world to close up a ride with a champagne toast. Anthony served up champagne and mimosas for those that could stomach it at 9 in the morning and some fruit juices and water for the rest of us.

He told us the history of the tradition and the history of hot air ballooning where it got it start in France, and eventually made its way to Ireland. He did all this as he raised a glass and said the balloonist’s prayer:

The Winds Have Welcomed You With Softness.

The Sun Has Blessed You With Its Warm Hands.

We Have Flown So High And So Well That God

Has Joined You In Laughter And Set You Gently

Back Into The Loving Arms Of Mother Earth.

With our feet on the ground, another check on our bucket list, and a bucket full of new folks we got the chance to meet somewhere up in the calm, cool Albuquerque air, we raised our glasses and said a hearty, “Amen” to that!