Standing next to my basket,
morning sun glinting off the burners, I was sure the searchers in the approaching
plane would see me. They were in slow flight, perhaps 60kt, and I waved
my hat at their approach.by Jim Isler
Standing next to my basket,
morning sun glinting off the burners, I was sure the searchers in the approaching
plane would see me. They were in slow flight, perhaps 60kt, and I waved
my hat at their approach.
Woooshhh. The Super Cub passed over me, flying northeast, toward even badder badlands. I saw them turn 90 degrees to the south, flying farther and farther away.
Well, I was comfortable sitting in the basket. My jacket provided shade, I had some water, and, after all, I was only 4 miles or so from Riverton, Wyoming. How I got to this predicament is a lesson in ineffective communication.
The Riverton Rendezvous is a major regional celebration in the Wind River Country of Wyoming. 120 miles west of Casper, the Wind River creates a beautiful meandering oasis from the Mountains to the North Platte, and, later, the Missouri.
18 years ago, locals decided to spice up the Rendezvous with a balloon rally. As an added fillip they established a "Celebrity Speaker" at Friday nite's gathering of sponsors, balloonists, and townsfolk. Notables such as Malcolm Forbes, Dewey Reinhard, Maxie Anderson, and others have graced the stage at Central Wyoming College's auditorium. Later, some Riverton people bought their own balloon, with the Rendezvous logo on it.
Marti and I first flew Riverton in 1994, with great flights and many new friends. Interesting restaurants are nearby, and there's a rodeo, too. Our first three "Rivertons" were typical fun rallies. Most flights were in light winds, and all retrieves were accomplished without incident. Only in 1998 did the gods seek to punish us for the sin of complacency.
Saturday morning dawned beautiful: clear skies, the lowest morning drainage winds we'd ever had, from the "usual" direction. We lost the Hare quite quickly and decided to enjoy a fun flight. I had two locals with me, and Marti chose to chase alone. A fateful decision.
Slowly flying eastward toward the Wind River, we dropped low, expecting the river drainage to turn us north. "Fooled you," said the Wind, as we drifted across the river. Still not in really bad shape, we got a bit of "north" over the flood plain and irrigated fields on the east bank. Then we lost it. Still moving slowly, we drifted east, along with three other balloons.
At the Pilot Meeting, the Balloonmeister cautioned that, if we crossed the river, we should fly on until we came to a road. These badlands are populated with gas wells, and there appeared to be many roads (dirt paths?) for the chasers.
So we flew on. The Hare balloon landed standing to our south, with one truck soon alongside, and another balloon was nearby. The third balloon was east of us. I climbed a bit to check out the topography, and saw a two "roads." Not wanting to be far from the Hare (he should know the country, right?), I dropped to a standup landing just short of a road.
We kept inflated for a while, but it was clear we weren't about to be retrieved, so we knocked it down. Susan began walking over to the Hare's landing site, a mile away, but clearly in sight. Howard and I packed up, stood around for a while, then decided to mosey over to the Hare as well. Halfway there, we stopped to visit with crew packing up the second balloon, and Susan drove up with a Riverton lady who'd decided to chase balloons that morning. While the packing crew offered to carry our rig out, we declined. After some negotiation, my crew got into our new friend's Blazer and drove off to return to the launch field. I walked back to High $tatu$!, to guard our stuff.
I cell-called my voice mail and our motel, giving my location as "a mile or so northeast of the Riverton (Hare) Balloon." That was, after all, what I knew of our landing site (mistake #1). The temperature was rising quickly, to well over 100 degrees.
Meanwhile, my loyal wife and fellow pilot was driving around the countryside looking for us. Marti got conflicting reports about our location, but used her considerable dead reckoning skills to search the Gas Hills area. She tried to call my cell phone several times, but it was forwarded to my voice mail (mistake #2). She called the motel, and got the information I'd given, but felt it wasn't helpful, since she had no way of knowing where the H... the Hare was. She too returned to the launch field.
There she got even more conflicting reports about "the balloons in the Gas Hills." Someone even told her I was collected and on the way in. Meeting a friend who'd flown his plane to Riverton, she cadged the back seat for the "search." There was less concern for my safety than that of another pilot, Ginger Delaney, from whom there had been no report. Hers was the balloon still flying eastward when I landed.
Back in the desert, I made myself comfortable in the basket, reading the flight manual (twice), slowly enjoying the water I'd brought. When the plane flew to, then right past, I began taking things more seriously. I decided be more visible by unpacking the yellow scoop and Nomex portion of High $tatu$!, spreading it out on the ground.
They must have nearly met back at the launch field, but Howard and Susan never met up with Marti. Instead, they got their Suburban, and the makings for lunch, and returned to the Gas Hills. Finding me OK, we ate some lunch, continuing our wait for Marti. We conducted our own search for the still-missing Ginger Delaney, but saw no sign of her. (She was eventually recovered, but her retrieve took several hours more).
Finally, at about 12:30, Marti arrived with our trailer. We packed up and returned to town, checking in with the organizers and heading off for a nap.
Key lessons learned in this one were: (1) Even if you don't have radios, make very clear plans for recovery information, even if the chaser is your most experienced, fellow pilot, and wife. (2) Take water (maybe a snack, too) on flights where a trip to "no mans land" is possible. (3) Cell phones work less well in remote areas; take advantage of free transport out to a real, paved road!
Sunday's flight was much more typical, with light winds, predictable directions, and an easy retrieve. We even got close to the X!
The Riverton Rendezvous remains one of our favorite stops. For information about 1999, call Roxie Arnold, 307-778-2870, or write to her at 1183 Happy Jack Rd., Cheyenne, WY 82007. It's usually the 3rd weekend in July.
