We took to the sky recently with the Boar”s Head Hot Air Balloon Service, which offers dawn rides from their swank country club on the western
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edge of town. Besides our pilot, buried to his knees in kegs of propane, our little wicker bento box also held a couple who had driven all the way from Ohio for a romantic anniversary balloon ride with…seven construction workers.
Once off the ground our fleet of three balloons immediately drifted into the restricted airspace around Charlottesville Airport, which wouldn”t have been an issue except that our pilot couldn”t contact the control
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tower. The pilot”s son, driving the chase van, was incommunicado also. It appeared as if the rapture had finally arrived. It was just us , the occasional commuter jet unaware of our presence, 9 million BTUs of propane beneath a flammable canopy and seven Latitude 38 work shirts that hadn”t been washed recently.
Our pilot was unconcerned:
“You know, ballooning is a lot like life. I”ve been doing this for forty
years and I still don”t know where I”m going.”
Then: “Where is the other balloon? Does anyone see the other balloon!”
It was a thousand feet down atoledo and directly beneath us, adding to the normal frustrations of the morning commute by hot dogging over a busy intersection.
The sublime breezes issuing from the Blue Ridge then blew us into that other
corridor of natural beauty, Route 29 North. If you think this drag looks ugly from the ground, wait to you see the acres of tar-patched roof and open dumpsters from above. Not wanting to risk a dicey landing among the miles of bucolic hay fields east of town, our pilot decided to ditch our twenty-story rig in the bustling parking
lot of ACAC Health and Fitness, just as Kid”s Summer Cardio Camp was convening for the day. A rope was dropped to the pilot”s son, who, not
surprisingly, immediately began to be dragged across the asphalt by the huge craft.
“I”ll move my car!” yelled a well-meaning mother in the process of dropping off her kid, as our giant shadow engulfed the entire plaza.
Clearly, the ground crew was going to need some assistance. With a pull of a rope our pilot blew off some hot air and the basket momentarily touched down in mom”s just-vacated space.
A composed command issued from the flight deck:
“Would the five gentleman on the
left side of the basket PLEASE GET OUT AND HELP MY SON STOP THIS BALLOON!!!”
With Cory, Jeff, Tommy, Devan and Bryce overboard, the unburdened airship unexpectedly leapt into the heaven”s again, almost clipping a parking lot light tower on the way up. As a father with an “Oh, the humanity!” look on his face stared up along with his transfixed and nervously waving three-year old, our anchormen managed to tease the towering rainbow menace over a planting of Dogwood trees to a final touchdown in the empty lot of Carmike Cinema 123.
After almost meeting our maker
in front of a strip mall, our experience concluded back
at the Boar”s Head with an understandably tense and awkward sparkling cider toast in the club”s English Nightmare-themed Ordinary Room.
It was only eight AM.
We were planning on spending the rest of the day quarry jumping; but after a morning like that we decided we shouldn”t push our luck.