Outdoor Recreation

You have to admire the foresight of five-year-old Robert Peters of Phoenix. When his parents said they were taking him hot-air ballooning, Robert agreed to go if he could wear a parachute.

An adventurer after my own heart, that Robert.

On the morning of our flight, we were on the outskirts of a Scottsdale resort, a parachuteless Robert (accompanied by his obviously unreasonable parents), several out of towners attending a convention, and me.

Our pilot, John Bagwell, tugged on his beard as he and the flight crew buzzed around us, discussing the prevailing winds,

utdoor Recreation CRUISING ARIZONA IN A BALLOON IS MORE THAN A HOT-AIR RIDE

the desert leaves no mark.

For almost an hour, we drifted swiftly above the blooming saguaros and watched as other hot-air balloons began to decorate the skyline. We took turns calling out sightings of the jackrabbits and quail that skittered across the desert floor after each blast of propane. Disappointed at not spotting a single coyote, we were silenced by the sight of a red-tailed hawk lifting off from the top of a saguaro as we flew near. Our landing was just what Robert would have ordered, almost like an elevator reaching the bottom floor. As a veteran of two previous flights, I have experienced the tumult of landing in a strong wind that drags the gondola along the ground, side-ways, until the balloon can be ventilated. That's my favorite kind of flight: one with risk, but ground-level risk.

Our landing was just what Robert would have ordered, almost like an elevator reaching the bottom floor. As a veteran of two previous flights, I have experienced the tumult of landing in a strong wind that drags the gondola along the ground, side-ways, until the balloon can be ven-tilated. That's my favorite kind of flight: one with risk, but ground-level risk.

As we were all treated to the traditional champagne (or apple-juice) celebration of our successful flight, Captain John explained why the sparkling wine became as integral to ballooning as the balloon itself. When a French duo began ballooning in the late 1700s, they often crash-landed in farmers' fields. Never having seen a balloon before and fearing that it was linked to the devil, the farmers sometimes would rush out with their pitchforks, ready to attack. Armed with champagne and Camembert, balloonists received much warmer welcomes.

We all laughed and drank from silver goblets as Fred Gorrell, the company president and a pilot, presented each flyer with a commemorative lapel pin and a certificate confirming that we had "ascended into the sky."

I circled the oversize "picnic-basket" gondola that was to serve as our vessel. A large motor-driven fan inflated the nine-story balloon while the flight crew wrestled to hold it steady.

Surface winds, and anticipated wind currents. Propane flames create the fuel for a balloon's lift, but the winds determine where it will go.

Several minutes later, the balloon envelope lifted slowly off the ground and assumed its position above the gondola. Our crew signaled us to put one foot in the foothold, sling the other over the gondola's edge, and climb in. I swallowed my inhibitions and prepared to tour the saguaro-studded Sonoran Desert from a vantage point more common to a red-tailed hawk than a yellow-tailed sightseer.

Our two companion balloons lifted off seconds apart, each filled with seven apprehensive neophytes and one seasoned pilot. After a few ear-numbing blasts from the propane generator, our balloon ascended 2,500 feet aboveground.

Just then the sun rose over the McDowell Mountains, bathing us and the desert below in a warm yellow light.

Carefully noting at what altitude the winds could be counted on to guide us toward our landing area, Captain John let our balloon descend to just above the tops of the paloverde trees. Part of the pleasure of hot-air ballooning is knowing that your tour through Watching Robert proudly receive his pin, I wished I was the one returning to school to regale everyone during show-and-tell with the news of my bravery. On second thought, maybe I just did.

WHEN YOU GO

There are numerous companies offering year-round hot-air balloon flights (see The Yellow Pages). Since flights are tied to sunrise, summer liftoffs are scheduled very early in the day; from November through March afternoon flights also are available.