by M.K. Buhler
Five a.m., Fiesta Park, the blackness with its disembodied lights seems unreal. Ed and I, after grabbing cinnamon buns and coffee from a nearby kiosk, head across the dark windy field to site K-5 to meet our pilot. Call us crazy maybe, but we'd signed up to crew, Albuquerque a first for the three of us. His Jeep Cherokee, black with a black trailer and blue Michigan licence plate, is not easy to spot in the dark. As the sky fades to pink at its eastern edge, Howard Dillman appears from the 6 a.m. pilots' briefing. Our third crew member, the teacher who knows Albuquerque and has crewed here before, is yet to arrive.
Day One for all of us, the pilot's first instruction is to scoot the 130-pound wicker basket to the end of the trailer, then slide it off partway. He drives the trailer out from under. Two of us jog the basket, containing four shiny propane tanks, onto its side, easily a four-man job because the tanks are heavy and the basket is no featherweight.
As dawn advances, Howard directs Ed and I to spread a tarp over our launch area, which attracts attention. We need more crew. Once the envelope is laying on the tarp, Howard directs me to carry its bag back and put it on the floor of the basket; this is so if the crew is late finding him he can put the envelope away as soon as possible. Howard yells to Ed to pull the crown line out to its end. He shows me how to pair the cables attached to the basket skirt, so that he can hook them to each corner of the basket. He explains how critical this is because the balloon is a unit formed of envelope and basket. Sorting and pairing them is to be my regular job for each launch.
He brings out the fan from the end of the trailer and cranks it until the motor roars. He directs two of us, one on either side, to hold the basket skirt, the lower rim of the envelope made of canvas rather than nylon, open by its sides while air is blown by the fan into the envelope. At the same time, three others spread the top of the envelope while Howard tabs in the parachute. After five to ten minutes the envelope seems inflated and tugs as we hold it fast. We get help hoisting the basket half up so Howard can climb in. He orders us to hold him and the basket down. This is a hard job for three or four people. Containing 65,000 cubic feet of air, his is a small balloon. Howard lights the two burners and turns them on.
Meanwhile, around us other balloons launch: a giant shoe, a bunch of chillies, a monster-wheeled truck. Ahead, a black and white cow has just taken to the sky which is alive with wild sights and exciting sounds.
After burning, Howard tells the crew of now four people to upright the recumbent basket, then hold it down. The hot air has given it more buoyancy. The teacher Bob, who had been delayed in traffic this first and busiest day of the Fiesta, arrives none too soon. We now have additional arms and shoulders to keep the basket with its heated envelope from rising. I am handed a video camera and freed, pilot's order, to record this first launch.
Then, a bit distressed, Howard calls me; today's winds require more weight in the basket, thus he needs a passenger for liftoff. I am weight-wise what he thinks he needs, so thus another crew job to travel as ballast when needed. I hand the camera to Ed and climb into the basket which begins to rock frantically. Sunlight peeks down between envelopes as Howard gets the official high sign. Hands off the balloon, he orders loud and clear. The tether line which anchors the balloon to the Jeep is untied and tossed to me in the basket. Howard instructs me to lay it on the floor out of the way for now. Untethered, the balloon quickly soars. The ground recedes.
At one point, Howard tugs the deflation line. We drop nearer but not too close to powerlines and trees in yards below. On his CB he informs Ed who navigates the chase vehicle of the probable route. He studies the map. He is not sure. Their CB transmission is constantly interrupted by other pilots using the same frequency. We hover over a playing field belonging to a private school, blacked out. My orders are to watch the balloons passing us on all sides. Kids playing soccer motion us to land. It looks like a perfect place, but we just wave. A family barbecuing in their backyard offer up hot dogs.
We approach an open area called Renaissance Park where other balloons are landing. Bob's voice booms over the CB: "I know where you are. We'll get there fast." It is the last open spot before the city, so Howard decides to make it the end of our inaugural ride. Over a wide expanse of grass he yanks the parachute line. The balloon floats down for what he calls a "soft" landing. After being instructed how to bend my knees and prepare for a wallop, I feel like a feather drifting down. Then, something unusual happens. On all sides of us, several large hares jump out of holes in the grass and begin to run away in a panic.
Our chase Jeep arrives; Howard orders me out because now I am extra weight. He then unhooks the envelope from the basket. He orders the five of us to "bounce" him in the basket into his trailer. Our work is not over until the envelope has been squeezed and "milked" as Howard calls it to get all its air out. Our pilot is most particular about this. He yells to Ed to hold fast to the crown line. Our team of four crew plus pilot work our way the length of the envelope. Two crew persons hold the bag; the next person stuffs while the next two squeeze out the air so the envelope will fit back into its bag.
For anyone who thinks he or she may be interested in crewing, I would recommend starting with a small balloon. Your instruction and hands-on experience will help you understand the principles underlying the flight. You will take orders directly and be able to ask questions of the pilot: facts, figures, whys and wherefores of ballooning. A small crew size is ideal. In launching, there is plenty to do to keep up to five or six crew members active.
For me, the hardest tasks in crewing were loading the envelope and basket back into the truck post-launch, then unloading same pre-launch; both basket and envelope weigh in excess of 100 lbs. Sexism aside, as a woman, I applaud the big brawny males of the crew. On the lighter side were the videotaping, riding as ballast and fetching for the pilot his water bottle, map, handheld radio and ensuring the envelope bag was in the basket, all essential to a safe and happy flight.