Top Out

So I must have been in rather unimaginable circumstances when I went up at least three times as fast as the flight manual allowed. My top did come out. This occurred in January 1989. I was participating in the British Petroleum Alpine Balloon Fiesta which was organized parallel to the harsh BP Alpine Balloon Race. The latter was (possibly still is) a competition event where pilots must fly long distances across the Alps, but have to combine this Maximum Distance task with other tasks from the FAI rulebook. In practice, this means having to make steep descents into valleys along the way, drop markers on goals, then climb out and continue the long-distance task. At the time people like ex-world champion David Levin and world gas ballooning champion Joseph Starkbaum were competing. (In 1990, Starkbaum actually competed in a gas balloon among the hot air balloons.)

The fiesta participants were supposed to stay in the broad valley just south of the Dachstein mountain range in central Austria. In the valley, the organizers set some goals for us. On one occasion, when the weather was very good, they decided to set the goal in a valley 30 kilometers (20 miles) south, on the other side of the Schladminger Tauern, a 2800 meter (9200 feet) high range with quite steep, inhospitable peaks. Several pilots grabbed the challenge, as we had been playing around in the valley for days, always looking at the impressive mountains, our baskets stuffed with extra fuel and safety gear, just in case a freak wind would take us into the difficult parts. I decided to fly solo, as my T & C 77 Series One would not be able to carry five hours worth of fuel, oxygen, emergency gear, including a sleeping bag, emergency tent and food for three days, plus more than one person, to altitudes of possibly 20,000 feet. All these safety measures may seem like overkill for a 30-40 kilometer flight, but the organizers took it very seriously, and indeed the occasional competition pilot had to be airlifted from a glacier by helicopter.

I took off from the small town of Rohrmoos (on the outskirts of Schladming), the principal launch site , and climbed at a steady pace to around 10,000 feet. The NNW wind took me across the snow-covered peaks at approximately 10 knots. Flying above such impressive mountains with snow and rock below and a postcard-blue sky all around is an almost eerie experience. I wouldn't have missed it for the world, and it was worth everything that happened soon after. Slowly climbing to 12,000 feet, even there feeling the faint wave effect from the terrain below, I exchanged short messages with another flatlander pilot who, like me, had taken off in a small balloon and followed more or less the same track. Radio contact with the crew was utterly lost since they had to drive through a long tunnel. However we should be able to find each other as the task was simply to land as close as possible to a designated road on the map.

Having passed over the major peaks, we travelled across a broad high plateau. The other Dutch pilot behind me descended, and attempted to land there - not an easy task since the place was rather windy. But he managed. I flew on towards the goal which was in the next valley. Unfortunately, at the point where I would cross it, the valley was very narrow. First I had to cross a ridge at a right angle, then I would have to make a steep descent to get to the road below. I knew about the infamous rotor effect, and had even flown into mild ones a few times, but never anticipated the force of the one I encountered here. Although I went a good distance from the ridge at a fair speed before descending, it still surprised me: the mouth of the balloon was suddenly half its normal size, the front of the envelope was rather dramatically pushed in, and the wind pushed me down and backwards toward the mountainside. So I put in a long double burn and managed to arrest the down and backwards movement by climbing out again. It was a few minutes later that I realized that several panels of material were melted away, as the result of the long double burn, collapsed mouth, cold propane and inefficient old burners, with a single coil each and generous pressurization with nitrogen. Ergo, a nice big yellow fireball after the first few seconds.

So I was not happy as I tried again to reach the road. No success. There was no room to land. Only a road, powerlines, a stream, and maybe a hundred meters of reasonably level valley bottom. Another mountain was closing in, its slopes all trees and nowhere to land if I would end up stuck there. I started to climb again, carefully, not using the big double fireball burn. A few minutes later, the mountain wave effect hit me. To understand this realize that I was flying at almost a right angle to the orientation of the mountain ranges. The ridge I had passed before trying to get into the valley was about 1300 meters (4300 feet) high. The next mountain was 1800 meters (5900 feet) at its highest point, which was precisely where I was headed. A strong wave of air had dipped part way into this valley, before rising out again. I blundered straight into this effect. The balloon accelerated, became unstable, and started swinging back and forth, with the basket swinging opposite. I looked sideways into the envelope a few times. The mechanical vario pegged all the way up, and this one has a maximum of 2000 feet per minute. At that time the top of the envelope was squashed. The parachute vent was pushed open and inwards to about the equator, and I was looking straight out into blue skies through the open vent. This lasted for what was probably only seconds (or maybe tens of seconds) but it felt like ages. But I was still going up, and fast too. I remember I screamed, "Wow!" (Maybe other things as well!) The only thing I could do was hold on and wait, as a burn might have enveloped the parachute top. The balloon more or less retrieved its normal shape when it slowed. The needle of the vario started moving away from the peg. The parachute rose mostly back up. I managed to close it with a few short burns and as the climb slowed, kept adding small puffs of heat. I passed over the mountain at what felt like racing speed, exactly where the highest point was marked by a big cross, like a grave. I descended soon after into a broader valley and maneuvered around in it for an hour or so, before making the softest imaginable stand up landing in the village of Stadl on the Mur, drawing a small crowd of people looking surprised at the big hole in the envelope. My crew found me two hours after that, still looking gray in the face.

The next day, I took my balloon up to no more than three feet over the ski slopes near the village. It is now six years later, and still I feel uneasy during fast climbs even within the official limits. What probably saved me was the fact that my balloon was relatively cool inside due to the light load and ambient temperatures. Real hot air would have rushed out of the open vent in seconds. Austrian pilots with long mountain experience told me I would probably have streamered and crashed if the whole thing had lasted a bit longer. They were mildly shocked at the size of the burn damage the balloon had sustained in the rotor. I had to replace six panels including two Nomex ones. Years later when T & C started organizing a balloon meet nearby, I heard the site of my adventure described as a "dangerous wind hole."

I have been asked if I was using a pilot harness at the time. I was not. It was not a good feeling to be in a wildly swinging basket without anything to secure me. I just wrapped an arm around an upright and held on. However in a small 40 x 48 inch basket with lots of gear and fuel tanks, it is fairly easy to brace yourself. I still do not use a harness, but I would have felt a lot better carrying a fast-opening emergency parachute, which I don't have either. I'm still not sure if the vent would have remained closed if I had been flying fully loaded, i.e. hot. However a balloon built from standard material would not make it fully loaded over the mountains. Next time I'll skip the narrow valleys, goal or no goal.