Balloon-powered

UP, UP AND AWAY Set against Southwestern skies with the Vermilion Cliffs as a backdrop, hot air balloons rise each November during the Page/Lake Powell Hot Air Balloon Regatta. The science of ballooning took off in 1783 when brothers Etienne and Joseph Mongolfier launched the first unmanned hot air balloon outside of Paris. Their “crew” consisted of a duck, a sheep and a rooster.

by Sylvia Somerville photographs by Jeff Kida

UNTIL THE SKY over winter-quiet Page brightened with brilliantly hued balloons on that first weekend in November, I had never even considered dangling hundreds of feet above the ground in a wicker basket. Too daunting. But reassurances from pilots who fly every chance they get for a bird'seye perspective on life gave me a flush of courage and curiosity.

Balloonists gather to launch their hot-air chariots at balloon rallies across the country, where they can catch up with friends and mingle with the community. The threeday Page-Lake Powell Hot Air Balloon Regatta now draws more people than any other local festival. Pilots credit sensational scenery that includes the Vermilion Cliffs and Lake Powell, plus Page's hospitality, enthusiasm and organization.

Weather permitting on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, balloonists lift off from Page's Old Nine-Hole Golf Course at daybreak, when the winds are calm and predictable. By midday, thermal drafts can cause potentially dangerous turbulence.

On the morning of my flight, the air was crisp and calm, and the sky a wash of dusty rose, powder blue and pale grey. As the Vermilion Cliffs glowed, a parade of vehicles headed for the green, since ballooning is a complex group activity requiring a dedicated ground crew to assist with both the liftoff and the descent.

Each balloon is equipped with a fabric envelope to hold the hot air, a burner, a wicker basket for passenger transport, 40 gallons of propane, a radio, gauges, droplines, maps, a fire extinguisher and other navigational necessities. An hourlong flight burns about 20 gallons of fuel.

After balloonmeister Bryan Hill gives the green light, pilots and their ground crews begin the labor-intensive process of inflating their balloons. Crews lay out the 275 to 375 pounds of fabric downwind, then use a fan and hot air to coax the envelope into unfurling. They grip the baskets until the balloons are upright. As the balloons fill, fliers see their pinwheel and spider-web patterns, plus bright Chicletstyle, checkerboard-square patterns.

Once aboard, I was happy to discover that passengers ride elbow to elbow, so there is no chance of rolling out. We launched facing the cliffs, then turned back over the neatly laid-out town.

The Balloonist's Prayer

Flying a balloon requires considerable technical precision. With the wind as the choreographer, pilots can dance across the sky with a two-step of venting to descend and burning to ascend. Changing altitude enables the pilot to find wind currents that sustain flights ranging from treetop-heights to 2,500 feet. My pilot used a silent whisper burner for gentle rises and a main burner to steer clear of a thermal or dodge a power line. Sometimes, he resorted to the whisper burner to avoid spooking animals on the ground as we flew over corrals of horses. Meanwhile, the ground crew gave chase so they could meet us when we landed. They arrived in time to reassure the per-plexed Navajo landowner who rushed out to see us. When the balloon's sponsor passed out dining certificates to his restaurant, we were forgiven.

Then we all helped deflate, roll and bag the envelope before hoisting it and the basket onto the chase van. Back at the tailgate party in Page, I was officially initiated when my pilot ceremoniously regaled me with the history of ballooning and baptized me with champagne while he recited the balloonist's prayer. This tradition is in honor of the Montgolfier brothers, who launched the first manned balloon flight over Paris in 1783.

The best day for spectators is Saturday, with lots of activities and a mesmerizing mass ascension that looks like a giant bouquet of birthday balloons set free at one time. As the multi-colored giants float across the sky, traffic comes to a halt and the whole town spills onto the sidewalks. A friendly competition that involves dropping beanbags on a target at the Lake Powell National Golf Course demonstrates the amazing control pilots possess.

The festivities continued in the afternoon. In Page, the attractions included a street fair, bands, a raffle and vendors with arts, crafts and food. Shortly before dusk, nearly half of the balloons returned to Page's main street for a light show on the ground. Organizers cordoned off several blocks so everyone could promenade on foot, bicycles and scooters past the towering, glowing balloons. Periodically, the burners erupted to keep the envelopes inflated, sometimes sequenced like a string of Christmas lights. A few balloonists allowed children to climb into their baskets, getting another generation excited about their sport.

Balloonists will tell you they feel most truly at home in the air, away from the demands of everyday living. From above, space, time and silence provide an avenue to contemplate the boundless mystery of creation. Even as a first-timer, I could appreciate the serenity and sense of inter-connectedness. It's a powerful force, stronger than any fear. All Sylvia Somerville of Sedona is grateful to pilots Doug Lenberg and Gary Woods for coaxing her into the air.

Jeff Kida of Phoenix has photographed many hot air balloon races over the past 20 years, but he cautions that others should not infer that it means he's full of hot air.

when you go

Location: Page. Getting There: From Flagstaff, take U.S. Route 89 north 130 miles to Page. Dates: November 3-5, 2006. Additional Information: Page-Lake Powell Chamber of Commerce, toll-free (888) 553-7243, (928) 645-2741 or www. pagelakepowellchamber.org/default.htm.