
George Denniston
First Texas
Panhandle Crossing
February
of
1974
I
thought
I
was
getting
to be a right smart pilot. A friend
of
mine,
Charlie
Koontz,
from
Olden,
Texas,
said,
“Why
don’t
you
come
fly
your balloon
over here?”
That
was
all
I
needed. Friday we packed the balloon up
into an old Frito Lay van. Bob Locke and
Bill
Glen
were
my
ground
crew.
They
both
weighed
in
at over two hundred and
fifty
pounds but that was key. If the bal-
loon
got
away
on
me,
they
could
get
in
front of me from below and reach up and
grab
me and
pull
me back
to earth.
We were flying
AX-6 balloons then
which
are fifty-five
thousand
cubic foot
balloons good only for winter use. It was
many
years before anyone started
flying
in
the summer. Those Ax-6’s could
only
carry two passengers and the pilot during
the winterwith temperatures between zero
and
fifty
degrees
and
still have beautiful
flights. It just didn’t
hold
up
to
summer-
time though.
Anyway, we arrived in Olden, Texas
on a Friday afternoon and stayed with the
Koontzes. Saturday morning
there was a
light
snow falling
so
we opted
not
to
go
out.
But
Sunday
was
a
different
matter.
The sky was pretty
clear except for a few
clouds
to
the
north
and
to
the west.
The
winds looked
calm
so the word
went out
that it was a go. All of Olden showed up.
The
little
town
of
Olden
in
the
central
panhandle
of Texas
must
have had
sev-
enty or eighty peopleturn out, pretty much
We inflated the balloon right in front
of Charlie Koontz’s house by the country
club
and
up
we went. That
was
the first
balloon flight in the panhandle. As I pro-
ceeded east, the winds came up a bit but I
still figured there was no problem. Look-
ing
down, I had an entourage of as many
as
one
hundred
cars.
This
all
happened
within the first fifteen or twenty minutes.
I had Bill and Bob stay in front of me
while
I
directed
them
to
section
roads
where they could
wait for me. As I came
up to a section
road, they’d
reach
up and
grab meand jerk the balloon to the ground
jarring
my teeth
like crazy because these
big guys could really put it on the ground.
I
always
said
my
landings
were
much
better than
their pull
downs.
We’d
jam two
passengers
in
and
up
we’d go
again. I figured
it
was
probably
twenty- five to
thirty
degrees
and
about
half way
we began
to
have
a few snow-
flakes.
These
clouds
kept
approaching
from the north, but I figured it was all right
because we
were fine and
visibility
was
still good.
We flew and we flew and
we
passed
one quarter
way.
I asked the guy
with
me,
“What’s
that
little
town
down
there?” He said, “That’s Quarter Way and
we’re coming up on Half Way.” It just so
happens that on US 70 between Olden and
Plainview, there are towns called Quarter
Way, Half Way
and
Three Quarter Way.
I said, “All right, we’ll try for Plainview.”
were going
at
a pretty good
clip.
In
the
meantime
I
kept
lo oking
around. We wereabout thirty-five to forty
minutes
into
the
flight.
It
seemed
like
there
were
one
thousand
cars
on
all
of
those
dirt
roads.
All
over
the
area
there
was a car somewhere.It was Sunday morn-
ing
and
everyone was either out going to
church, or watching this new flying
sau-
cer
that
had
just
invaded
the
panhandle.
Incidentally, a lot of them didn’t make it
to
church that day.
I started
getting
pretty
brave,
and
I
had some experience, so
I dropped down
pretty
low
as
we
were
approaching
the
town of Half Way. It was about 11:15 a.m.
and we were coming right down due east
on
US 70,
maybe
a little
bit to
the
right
side. Up on the horizon appears a beauti-
ful white church with a steeple on
a little
hill.
The
guy
with
me
said,
“Oh,
you
won’t bother them because they probably
won’t even hear you.” We were approach-
ing
Half
Way
and
there
couldn’t
have
been
more than
twelve
buildings
total. I
came
right
in
next
to
the
steeple
of
that
church,
but
I
had
to
make a
pretty
long
burn in order to keep from wiping it out. I
missed
and
after I passed the church, the
wind kind of slowed down and we stalled
there for a bit.
Just like little kids do when they have
theirhands together to make a steeple, and
then
open
their fingers
and
out
come
all
niston is presented to enhance safe flying
by providing balloonists the opportunity
to gain experience from others without
actually flying. The column is edited by
George Denniston who is a doctor and
balloonist living in Seattle, Washington.
Articles may be signed or anonymous to
protect the privacy of those involv ed, as
the author wishes. If you have an experi-
ence th at you would like to share with
others, send your manuscript to Balloo n
Life magazine, Hangar Flying with
George Denniston, 2336 47th Ave SW,
Seattle, WA 98116-2 331. Submissions
may be typewritten, submitted on disk
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people,
well
it
looked
just
like
the
steeple had opened up and out came all the
people. They were all waving at us and I
was
waving
back. It
was
a fantastic
day.
Even
the
minister
came
out
and
he
was
waving
to
us
on
his
little
porch
with
his
black
robe
on
and
the good
book
under
one hand. As we pulled away, I could see
alot of peoplefrom the congregation were
getting
into
their
cars
and
following
the
rest
of
the
entourage
of
cars.
Looking
back at the preacher, he was waving at me
and
he
kept
looking
back
at
all
these
people leaving. He
looked
at
them, then
he looked at me, and then he threwme the
prettiest
high
sign.
Of
course
I
recipro-
cated. He threw his book down, went back
into the door and disappeared.I laterfound
out the reason
he was so upset. The plate
had not been passed around and he had not
received
his Sunday
offerings.
I was still changing
out
passengers.
Finally
I had
taken
the
last
guy, Charlie
Koontz, the one that started all of this. He
didn’t want to fly but after he saw all of his
buddies fly, he finally got in. At that time,
the
balloon
moved
back
a little
towards
the north and we were headed
for a feed
yard. Being an old feed yard manager, he
said, “God Almighty, we’ll scare all those
cattle.” Being
an
old
feed
yard
manager
and
cattle guru
myself, I said, “I know it
won’t bother them.”
We flew over the southwest corner of
the
feed
yard
belonging
to
a guy
by
the
name
of
Bob
Carter.
The
balloon
pro-
ceeded to stall out and here we are sitting
mostly
b lack
and
white
Holsteins.
I
thought,
“Boy, look at all of those black
and white Easter eggs down there.” Pretty
soon they started going in a circle and we
kind
of
stopped.
I
figured
I’d
try
to
go
higher and
get
away from
them but
with
the roar of the burners, they accidentally
knocked open the gate in a panic and here
go about three hundred Holsteins running
and looking curiously up at the balloon. I
said, “Oh no Charlie!”Charlie said, “Carter
is going to kill me!” I said, “What doyou
think
he’ll
do to
me?” We moved a little
further and almost wiped out some horses
on top of it all.
We finally landed pretty close to the
town of Plainview and here comes Carter
driving up. Steam was coming
out of his
windows as
he was mad
as hell
at us, not
knowing
who
was
in
the
balloon.
The
balloon
was
down
on
its
side
and
the
gondola
was
tipped
on
its
side
as
well.
Charlie
and
I
were
crawling
out
of
the
gondola with hundreds of cars and people
everywhere.
Carter
comes
up
and
says,
“Hinkle, Koontz, I should have known it
was you two guys that opened the gate on
my
Holsteins.” The next thing
we know
we
are
all
drinking
beer
and
happy.
He
said he’d get the cows back someday and
it wasn’t much of a problem. It was a great
flight and the whole crew had a good time.
We headed back to Roswell later that day
tired but very elated over our first real out
of town flight.
Non-Scheduled
Flights
Into
the
Unkn own (Terminating in Controlled Crashes). The book is full of tales of an
early balloonist, all pretty humorous. If you enjoyed this Hangar Flying, you
will like the book. The bo ok is approximately 100 printed pag es.
Cost
$23 postpa id. Make check payable to Rolla Hinkle II and send to 303
Coal, Ruidoso, NM 88345.
