by Jim Dorsey
After attending the 17th annual
Red Rock Rally in Gallup, New Mexico, I realized I am a fair weather pilot.
Living and flying in balmy Southern California, "Extreme" weather
conditions are almost non existent, except for the occasional shower and
winds gusting to 80 mph, (rare, very rare). We have little need for tank
warmers or heat tapes. Nitrogen? What's that? Water proof basket covers?
Seems I had one around here somewhere.
Now, go to Gallup New Mexico the first weekend of December and all that changes. With temperatures dropping to single digits, a familiar sight to many of you, this Southern California boy rarely sees temperatures below 55 F. Imagine my surprise on launch day to find out the temperature was minus 16 degrees Celsius. What the h___ was that? Give me the temperature in American. IT WAS 7 DEGREES! Well at least I understood that. I went back and lied to my California crew.
Weather was good. I was one of the out of state pilots who got to fly out of Red Rock State Park. The large group was flying at the golf course, I was sure it was warmer there. We unloaded the balloon. we were light on crew so I borrowed a couple of bodies. They had never seen a balloon before and never been to Gallup before. The guy was a photographer photographing his first rally. Needless to say he kept disappearing. The young lady was willing but minimal help, she was from Florida and just as cold as I was.
I pulled the nitrogen charging system out and looked at it. It might as well have been part of the Starship Enterprise. I hadn't seen this stuff since last Year. Got it hooked up correctly and got the tanks almost charged before I ran out of stuff. On to the next phase of set-up.
We pulled the envelope out of the bag. Somehow I had managed to tangle everything up when I put it away last time. As I straightened out the mess Allen, the photographer, wandered off.
To connect the lines up I came to the horrifying conclusion that I must remove my gloves to finish. That magic number 7 kept flashing through my mind. As my fingers stuck to the cold metal my mind flashed to the movie where the kid stuck his tongue to the light post and stuck. Would this become my fate?
Success! Now after rounding up Allen for the third time, we were ready to inflate. I set the choke on the fan and with all my strength could barely pull the rope. The fan was also from Southern California and just as cold as I was. After 10 or so pulls I realized it was hopeless. I borrowed a very large fan from a neighbor and once again I was ready. Allen had again become bored with this process and wandered off to take pictures.
This fan was of better quality than my fan and did not have the tendency to wander off like Allen. Once inflated everything settled in. I decided the only way to make sure Allen was there to help us pack up was to take him with me in the balloon.
I lifted off. Almost instantly the cold seemed to disappear from my fingers and toes. The hardships my warm weather body and equipment had endured seemed like they were from years past. I looked around at the other balloons and the grandeur of the red rocks and suddenly it all became worth while. We could see the other balloons starting to lift off from the golf course a few miles away. Our path took us North towards the canyons and into some of the most beautiful scenery in New Mexico.
Allen and I were busily taking pictures as I was flying, hoping to find a smooth place to land. We had all been warned that when the temperature rises and the ground warms it turns to muck and we had better be on the pavement. After several attempts to land on the paved road I finally decided to find a good location to land and deflate.
It hadn't got much warmer when I finally managed to land in a spot where my crew could at least hike to and walk me out to the road. What a great morning. I figured by noon I might be thawed out.
Upon returning to the El Rancho hotel I decided to solve the fan problem to avoid a repeat on the launch field Saturday. I climbed onto the truck, grabbed the starter rope and with a gentle pull the fan started right up. The noise brought out all the pilots to see what the California dummy was up to. Problem solved.
Checking body parts for frostbite all I found was some minor cracking of the skin from the cold. I realize that too many of you reading this, that fly in this type of weather often, that I sound like a giant pansy. Well I am, and on Saturday morning with the temperature up to a whopping 10 degrees F, it wasn't much better. Would I go back? In a heartbeat. I have attended this event for 14 consecutive years. I've been rained on, snowed in, frozen and covered in mud. The only thing I can remember vividly each year is the beauty of flying at Red Rock State Park.
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