It was just like my flying dreams: peaceful, beautiful and effortless, one moment held to the ground by the earth’s gravity, and the next floating high above it, looking down at the shrinking objects below.
We, the passengers in the hot-air balloon basket, watched our cars shrink to the size of Hot Wheels, then the size of Monopoly game-board pieces. They finally become so small they looked like shiny, hard-backed insects lined up in the field we launched from.
We had arrived at the launch site outside Longmont at 6 a.m. in the 55-degree cool of a mid-May morning. The chance of high winds, rain or even snow in the early season makes flight anything but a guarantee.
In fact, the company my family flew with, , hadn’t flown in almost a week because a storm front had been parked over the Front Range.
But there were no clouds in the sky as pilot Jeff Meeker and his crew rolled out the rainbow-colored checkers of the balloon. My daughters and the other passengers took turns peeking through the top vent hole as the balloon filled with hot air from the burners at its base.
In addition to my family of four, there were three couples in the basket with us that day; two of them newly married and the third celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary.
Hot-air balloon rides are often reserved for tourists or people celebrating special occasions, but operators along the Front Range make it possible to take flight, see familiar landscapes from a whole new perspective and not even be late for work. Of course with a price tag about $250 to $300 apiece, taking flight in a hot-air balloon is not any everyday occurrence. It is, however, a lifetime experience I highly recommend.
From an altitude that topped out around 3,000 feet above ground, we could see the red tile roofs of the University of Colorado Boulder, where my husband, Tony, and I both got our degrees, the iconic Flatirons rising behind them and to the north the outline of Horsetooth Reservoir near our Fort Collins home.
We were all so busy looking around that when we took the time to look down, it was shocking how far the ground below had become. One of my fellow passengers, who was visiting from Texas and was afraid of heights, told our pilot he wasn’t comfortable going above 1,000 feet.
“We’re at about 1,500 right now,” our pilot informed him.
Thatap when I took my first look straight down over the edge of the basket, where my view held no evidence of the craft we were riding in.
“WǷ.”
The rest of the family had already been taking in this view and was more articulate when I asked them their favorite part of the ballooning experience.
Tony said, “Watching the map unfold beneath us.”
Our 9-year-old said, “Flying without windows, or anything else, separating us from the outside.”
And our 11-year-old said simply, “Being up in the air.”
While my daughters were fascinated by the view, Meeker said younger children might not be.
“Itap not a roller coaster,” he said. “Depending on the child and (his or her) age, they may not be entertained without the thrills.”
Balloon rides last from 1 to 1 1/2 hours. When and where you land depends on fuel usage, weather conditions and finding a suitable place to touch down.
It was in the 40- to 50-degree range during our flight. A couple of times, Meeker dropped tiny strips of paper (biodegradable) to see which way the wind was blowing. Watching the minutes it took the strips to float down, down, down in the nearly windless sky made me realize just how high up we were.
Throughout our flight, the crew on the ground were following us in a van and simultaneously searching for a good landing spot.
As we lost elevation, the houses grew to postage-stamp size. We could make out cars starting the commute to work and then children riding their bikes to school.
Down, down until we were skimming over rooftops headed toward the empty lot, east of the Erie airport, where we would land. A toddler still in his pajamas rushed out on his deck to wave enthusiastically. And then, just as smoothly as we had left the ground, we were back on it.
Everyone helped pack our craft into the trailer behind the van, and we made the 5-mile or so drive back to where we had started the whole adventure. Most methods of travel require a reminder that a trip isn’t just about where you are going; not so with hot-air ballooning, which has no destination, only a magical journey through the sky.
