Where's Teddy Now?

Down

Looking down on the Earth is an entirely new experience. Aside from the peering through a foggy/icy/dusty airliner window, and the occasion bush plane as a kid, I’ve never really had the experience. It’s a fascinating world down there.

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I have Mr. Nash, my high school geography teacher to thank for this. (Chuck, if you ever run across this post, know that we appreciated your class.) One of the many practical skills we learned to perform was aerial photo interpretation. We’d stare down on photographic platges and identify crops (wineyards from orchards, for example), fallow fields, drainage patterns, and general land use. And without that class, I wouldn’t now be able properly classify the photos I took yesterday as low oblique, high oblique, or vertical.

Such silliness they taught in schools, back in the day.

I in fact forgot to empty my flash card for the trip, and thought that the 250 shots remaining wouldn’t be enough. Luckily, I didn’t spend the entire trip with camera glues to my forehead.

The day began with a 6:50 am informing that the conditions were good (excellent, even) and that the flight was a go. Then the two “things I need you do do” from Ti, and then 45 minutes to get to our rendezvous site. A quick test balloon identified current conditions, and established our launch spot, which would be near the Museum of the Regiments at Crowchild and 53rd St. SE.

Balloon set up took about an hour, and although I shouldn’t really say so, the entire rig seems like a very delicate mashup. Four steel cables attach the basket to the burner assembly, and a couple of dozen thin nylon lines (parachute chord) join that to the balloon proper. Balloon plus basket plus propane = 400 kg. Plus or minus.

Two gasoline powered, Honda brand balloon fans (yes, Honda market a line to the HAB market… volume, volume, volume, NOT!) half inflate the balloon with cold air. 120 000 cubic feet of it in our case, a medium size for our four person aircraft.

Speaking of aircraft, the pilot licensing requirements are no less onerous than for fixed wing craft. Hours of study, supervised flight time, tests, and even the solo. It’s a serious business, even with the preponderance of morbid jokery that goes around (for example, “Every time you walk away from a controlled crash, it’s a good day!”)

The propane powered burners have serious BBQ potential. If oriented the correct way. When fired up, the balloon fully inflates in a matter of seconds, and within a minute we can become airborne. Amazing, the power of differential density. Imagine that balloons float like a cork might in a fish tank. Imagine further that our plant is opne huge fish tank. Spherical, yes. The fluid is transparent and colourless, true. But we live at the bottom of a huge tank, and we humans are the bottom feeding muckrakers.

Anyhow, imagine. Now build a big old bag out of ripstop nylon, and fill it up with a fluid that, instead of sinking, rises you up and out of your muckraking ways. A difference in density of a few grams per cubic centimeter is all that’s required for you to float like the jellyfish.

That’s what hot air ballooning is all about.

Yes, it’s a good day when you walk away from a controlled crash.

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