BalloonLife,
December 1999
Twenty gas balloonswere registeredfor
theRE/MAX Cuptobe heldinDenver,
Colorado on Saturday, November 6,1999.
Wewereblessedwithanoutstanding
weather forecast for this Gordon Bennett-
style gas balloon event, yet it would bethe
toughestgasballoonlaunchI’veever
experienced or witnessed.
AtSaturday’snoonbriefing,offi-
cials referred to “unique local conditions”
and delayed our launch windowuntil 1800
MST(6p.m.).A supplementalweather
briefing at 4:15 p.m. confirmed that winds
hadpickedupconsiderably(ESE at9 G
13knots),butwereforecasttodropat
sundown.Launchwasfurtherdelayed
until2000 MST (8p.m.).
Our launch site atFrontRange Air-
portwaslessthan5milesfromDenver
International Airport, just outside the sur-
faceareaof Class‘B’ Airspace.Actual
on-sitesoundingsat4:40p.m.showed
winds tobe ESE at 15 to 24 knots. Flight
pathswerecertaintopenetrate theDIA
airport traffic area. Event Airspace Coor-
dinator RussMcClain,informedusthat
Air Traffic Control at DIA would require
balloons tomaintain radio contact, climb
immediately to3000 feetAGL andkeep
transponderson.Inreturn,ATCwould
“attempt to isolate” the balloons and keep
them“clear”ofotheraircraftasthey
crossedthe airport. They also mentioned
that “traffic will pass to the right and left”
andthatthere “maybe trafficbelow” as
well. A few pilotslaughednervously.
Winds on the surface picked up con-
siderably as the balloons began to inflate.
The Warsteiner balloon struggled wildly
until the envelope was released, snapping
loudlyover the basket, heavilyweighted
with ballast and straining its load tapes in
the evening sky. One by one, other enve-
lopeswhippedsuddenlyintotheclear
nightandthrashedviolentlyagainstthe
silhouette of the mountains and the glow
way. With masses of crew bodies clinging
and then releasing, each balloon was car-
riedswiftly downwindandthenarrested
as more ballast was removed until finally
clearedforlift-off.Surfacewindswere
now sustained at approximately 20 knots
fromthe south andgusting. Theywould
notsubsideatall.Everysingleballoon
roseswiftly,mettheinversionlocated
justabove the surface, thensuddenly re-
boundedtowardtheearthasifgravity
refused to release it. Several balloons ap-
pearedto make ground contact.
I“passed”onmylaunchsequence
when radio contact with Denver ATC was
temporarilylost.Team5 wasnow at the
very end of the launch order and I was not
happy.On the otherhand, therewas clearly
aweatherphenomenonineffectwhich
broughtbackmemoriesofAmerica’s
Challenge in 1995. It seemed like an eter-
nity as N95GB (aka “95GasBag”) thrashed
aboutfor2morehoursontwotether
ropes, against shifting, gustingwinds.
Around10p.m.,itwasourturn.I
resolvednottosmackthegroundafter
take-offandpicku papenalty.We
launchedsuccessfullyintothe nightsky
and joined the others, but not until we had
also negotiatedthe violent inversion. We
dumped at least 3 additional bags of sand
anda40-poundjugofwaterinorderto
avoidgroundimpact.(Inhind-sight,I
would have loved to have kept that ballast
and prolonged our flight!) Once aloft, the
stressofthelaunchimmediatelyfaded
and we drifted silently northward. To the
west,towardDIA,andinfrontof us,a
dozen slow-moving strobes allowed us to
pickout the balloonsfrom other aircraft
lights andthe brightly blinking stars. Be-
hindus, two balloons remained andsoon
joined the pack.
WeclearedDenver’sClassBair-
spaceabout1a.m.andsignedoffthe
radio. I took the first “watch” as Tom lay
Flight to a Hostile
Playground
BalloonLife,December 1999
down to sleep. There was no evidence of
anocturnal jet andIwas verydisap-
pointedtohavetocontinuallyballastscoop
after scoop in order to maintain altitude.
For the entire flight, it seemed as if there
wasalwaysa gianthandpressingusdown-
ward toward earth. Unlike other flights
where a whole night or day would pass
with less than a sand box of ballast ex-
pended, we fought this one endlessly. I
wondered briefly about a leak, but dis-
missed it.
Around4 a.m. Sundaymorning, I
awakened Tom. I needed a napand asked
him to please wake me at daybreak. Two
hours later,I was back on deck. There
wereatleast6blinkingballoonsnear usat
sunrise.Tomhadcontinuedtoballast
through the night, and we now waited for
the sun to break the horizon and super-
heating to begin. That occurs when the
raysofthesun striketheballoon and
begin to warm the gas inside. The helium
expands and the balloon begins a natural
ascent,often resulting in aballast-free
gainof severalthousand feet. Today there
would be none. Throughout the day, we
continued to dump sand in an effort to
reach higher, faster, more easterlywinds.
Near sundown, the balloon sank to
the surface. We had only 10 bags of sand
left at sunset as we floated quietly across
theMissouriRivernearChamberlain,
SouthDakota. We had been inthe air less
than 24 hours and had traveled only 400
miles from ourlaunchsitein Denver. This
was goingtobe a tough race tohang onto.
It was only six o’clock and a long
night lay ahead.Tomcurled up on the
padded floor of our experimental basket
tosleep. The ballooncontinueditsnormal
rotational waltz inthe darkness, spinning
slowlyin one direction and then another,
witha blanket of twinklinglightsbeneath
usand a kaleidoscope of planetsand con-
stellationsand airplanes overhead. I took
GPS“fixes” on the half hour, plotted our
position on the flight map, watched the
altimeterinbetweenexpendingoccasional
cupsof sandandsat down tostudythe sky
for a few minutes before repeating those
procedures.
We were flyingabout4000 feetMSL
witha heading of less than 030 degreesat
25 mph. Our only hope for a more favor-
able direction was above us. I dumped
scoop after scoop of sand, as the balloon
responded sluggishly,gainingonly a few
hundred feet witheach scoop. I feltstingy
abouttheballast,but could nolonger
afford to expend any unless absolutely
necessary.
At 10:30 p.m.on Sundaynight, I
woke Tom. With eleven balloons still in
theairandthenorthernlights onthe
horizon,I lay down to take my turn in
dreamland. We hadmanaged to pick up a
50-degreetrackbutstruggledtostayabove
6000 feet MSL. When I awoke just after
midnight, we had picked up a 60-degree
heading at the samealtitude. We were
both somewhat encouraged as Tom took
my place in the bottom of the basket. I
slowlysifted sand and pushed the balloon
to 7000 feet MSL, speculating on where
we might be at sunrise.
At 0230 MST on Monday morning,
though still holding 7000 feet, the tem-
peraturesuddenly dropped ten degrees
and we were now bearing 36-38 degrees
at only 15 mph. I wanted to head toward
the eastern seaboard not the NorthPole! I
called ATIS and FSS. Only the 12,000
feetwindsinMinneapolis,some200miles
due eastof us, were 270 degreesor better.
Tom was back on deck at 0600 MST
andradioed our steadfastcrew led bydear
friend, Tarp Head. They had been on the
road now for more than 24 hours, stop-
ping only for gas and to change drivers.
We wereflyinglevelasthesun broke over
thehorizonandathinlayerofcirrus
cloudsnowblockedour superheating. For
the next several hours, we shoveled out
sand.
We were flying at 9000 feet with a
60-degree heading at 0800 MST. David
Levin was just in front of us and other
balloonswerespecksinthe skyaroundus.
Weatherreports still promisedaright
turn. International Falls reported winds
aloftfromtheWNWin excess of40
knots. I allowed a little optimism to enter
thebasket, butcontinuedto plotGPS“Go
to”destinationsroughlydownwindof our
currentflightpath. The crewproceeded to
Duluth andwaitedforinstructionson
which route tofollow around Lake Supe-
rior. I wanted to go EAST!!! It was not to
be, asTom made the appropriate arrange-
ments toenterCanadaandthemotor
home turned north toward Thunder Bay.
We hadtraveled 880milesfrom Den-
ver and it appeared that we would cross
theUS/Canadianborderaroundsundown,
overflying the Boundary Waters Wilder-
ness (also a Prohibited Airspace) in the
process.Thebasketseemedsuddenly
much smallerwhen Iopenedadebate
withTom about ouroptions—tolandor to
fly? With 7 bagsof sand remaining, I
informed the chase team of our intentions
and asked Ely, Minnesota Unicom to re-
lay a message to the Denver Command
Center—Team5 would fly through the
night.
As the sun set, we drifted over the
vastandremote BoundaryWatersarea, in
silent awe of all that lay beneath us. We
sanklowerwiththe approaching darkness
andenteredCanada movingswiftlynorth-
eastward. Tom took the helm and I col-
lapsedtosleeparound1800hours (6
p.m.) MST.
I was backon myfeettwo hours later
and traded places with Tom. Iwas de-
lighted to learn that,while Islept, the
balloon hadmanaged anatural ascent,
gained several thousand feet and had fi-
nally turned east. In the near-total voidof
lights,a fragile string of moving vehicles
revealed a highwaybelow. Our flightpath
would soon intersect it. I reached for the
radio and quietly tried to reach the crew.
As fate would allow, theywere some-
where onthehighwaybelow.Tommanned
the spotlight.Theysaw us!!! The van and
the motor home pulled over and the crew
celebrated their only sighting of the bal-
loon.Itwasabigmoraleboosterfor
everyone.
Tom went back tosleep as the north-
ernlights cametolife.Shortly before
midnight, the balloon began to sink from
our8000feetaltitudeandour trackshifted
slightlynorth. We were now closingin on
the 50 parallel—a symbolic boundary I
didn’twish tocross. We were out of radio
contact with all Canadian flight services
when Imadeatense call to thecrew.
Amazingly, they were stillin range and I
asked them to please try to quickly relay
any and all weather forecasts they could
gather. Tarp called back a bit later. All
three meteorologistshelpingus placed us
securely back near civilization and head-
ing SE by sunrise.
I ballasted steadily. Two whole bags
of sand slipped overboard as I tried to
recover the 8000 feet level and the 90-
degree flightpath. When I awakened Tom
at 0200 MSTon Tuesday, I felt comfort-
able with ameasureof stability at the
9000 feet level.Wewere nowzipping
BalloonLife,December 1999
along the 50 parallel, heading 90 to 100
degrees at 40 mph. I calculated sunrise
wouldarrivewithinthevicinityof
Matagami, Quebec. With only 4 bags of
sand remaining, we would not be able to
fly much farther.
The skywas clearbut thedarkest
night I have ever known was alive with
northernlights. They were actuallydanc-
ingIN the basket withus. We were flying
IN the northern lights. It was an experi-
encewhich was impossible to imagine
and harder to describe. We hadbeen aloft
for over 51 hours and flown more than
1300 miles when I took my turn withthe
sandman at 0230 MST. I was restlessand
Tom was tired when we switched places
again an hour later.
By 0400 MST therewas ahint of
dawn inthe southeastern sky. We were so
far north it seemed like the whole world
was upside down and the stars had lost
their positions in the heavens. Thesky
wasclear as thefirst vestiges oflight
revealedanendlesshorizonoffrozen
lakes and trees and the whitenessof snow
in every direction.
At 0515 MST, I awakened Tom, as a
bank of clouds began to form near the
surface, some 7000 feet below us. This
caused some concern, as I wished to re-
main inV FRflight at our current altitude
for as long as I possiblycould. Our other
alternative was to begin a descent and get
beneaththe cloudsbefore a solidovercast
formed.Preferringtoknowprecisely
where the ground was, we initiated our
descent with a 3-second valve. Simulta-
neously, we began to feel effects of the
only superheating in the entire flightand
this at the one time we could in no way
take advantage of it. In fact, as the clouds
now reflected the bright sunlight upward
onto theballoon,thesuperheatingbe-
came an intense force we overcame only
byvalvingconstantlyfor the next hour. It
didn’t seem right to end our journey just
when the balloongave ussome indication
it wanted to play our game. I hated not
flying on,but we did not have enough
ballast to risk it. We also needed ballast
for landing. This was a very hostile play-
groundandprudence prevailedaswe con-
tinued our descent.
Initially, I felt confident that, even
with asouth wind onthesurface,we
would reach theonly road going duenorth
from Matagami toward Hudson Bay with-
outdifficulty.Aswedescended,how-
ever, the winds shifted sharply northward
withanincreaseinspeed.Weascended
slightly and tracked back east. With each
maneuver, we flew faster and more north-
ward near thesurface.Eachtime we as-
cended, we found slower winds with less
correctionavailabletotheeast.For the
nextfourhours,weflewourbuttsoff,
determinedtoreachHighway109.We
didnotmake it when, almostout of bal-
last, weended up paralleling the road. Our
flightpathwasheadingwestofNorth,
towardopenwater. Itwastime to land.
Touchingdownat1035MSTonly
six miles west of the pavement, it seemed
like we were a very, verylong way from
anywhere.Wehadlanded safelybutwe
were going to require assistance reaching
civilizationastheentireregionwasa
snow-covered bog. Deflating the balloon,
wefound ourselves sinking through knee-
deepsnowandthenintoover-theboot
mudandicywaters.OurELT hadbeen
turnedonearlier whenhope of reaching
the highway faded. We knew that others
wouldworryaboutourwelfare,though
TomandI stillhadwaterandfoodand
sufficient gear to survive the harsh condi-
tionswe now faced.
Iattached the radio antenna to anearby
tree and Tomperiodicallyswitchedover
totheemergency121.5frequencyand
calledfor a response. We didour floun-
deringbesttodeflateandpackupthe
balloon. Three hourspassedquickly.At
last, we heard Canadian Searchand Res-
cue overhead. We confirmed that we were
A-OK and they instructed us to monitor a
frequency. A C-130 arrived shortly there-
afterandinformedusthatahelicopter
wouldbe backin2-3hourstoevacuate
personnelonly.Theyre-confirmedour
status—no injuries and possession of sur-
vival gear—before they flew off to inves-
tigateanotherELTnearby.Welater
learnedthatthreeballoonshadsetoff
ELT’sinthat areaandallwere attended
by RCC.
Itwasnearlydarkwhenthe C-130
returned. The pilotinformedus that they
needed tore-fuel and a helicopter would
return at “first light” to evacuate us. Ex-
pecting to be“rescued” that evening, Tom
and I had just finished our struggle to pack
theenvelope intothe basket.Wewould
nowhavetoremovetheheavy,damp
balloonandprepareourshelterforthe
night.
Our high-tech four by five feet “bas-
ket” had thick, solid walls made ofKevlar
andfoam and fiberglass.We stretcheda
piece ofpack cloth over the toprailand
pulledpartofthesnow-whiteballoon
envelope over that. Althoughwe hadno
sleepingbags,weeachhadourjumbo
down parkas and a pair of Antarctic expe-
dition-typesnowpantsEarlMillerhad
loanedus .Asou tsid etemperatures
droppedto–9F,insidetemperatures
reached40degreesF.By7p.m.MST,
Tom and I were finishing a fine, hot meal.
Completelyexhaustedineveryway—
physically,mentallyandemotionally—
sleepwassoon uponus.
The following day arrived bright and
clear. We quicklysortedandpackedthe
avionics and other important equipment,
eager to be ready for the RCC helicopter.
We decided to wait inside the shelter until
they arrived, then pack the envelope at the
lastmoment.Tomwasnappingabout
12:30MST whenI hearda helicopter in
the distance. We popped up and out of our
camouflagedbasketandIfiredaflare.
Thechopper passed directly overhead and
radioed that they had seen the flare but did
nothavea“visual”onus.Iwavedthe
brightorangesignalclothuntilthe heli-
copter crew announced we were insight.
Wewrestledtheenvelopeintothe
basketandsecuredthesystemforlater
retrieval.Carryingonlyessentialitems,
we trudged throughthe snow tothe huge
GriffonBellh eli cop terandcli mbed
aboard. I was pleased to discover that our
pilot was a 28-year old woman with an all-
malecrew!Shewasgreat!Warmedby
their enthusiastic reception, we answered
a lotofquestionsduringour45-minute
trip to the airport in Matagami.
Upontouchinggentlydownonthe
tarmac,DrewBarrettpulledupinour
chase van. We learned that the rest of the
crew hadspentthe previous nightinthe
motor home, up onthe highwaynear our
landing site. Determined to do everything
they could to retrieve us, their adventure
continued. A private helicopter wasem-
ployed to sling the balloon systemout to
theroadjustbeforedarkthatevening.
Theyalmost failed tofindthe balloonin
thewildernesssince,inourhaste,Tom
and I had failed to visibly mark the equip-
ment. After almost two hours ofsearching
along our landingcoordinates, Tarpwas
BalloonLife,December 1999
nauts. After fighting to fly a distance of
1499miles(greaterthantheFeminine
World Record I currently hold—1448.52
miles), Tom and I earned only a seventh
placefinish!Sixotherteamsexceeded
our performance. You can believe we are
proud, but our hats go off to each of the
others.Itisa rare thingtobeableto
compete on such a level with such excep-
tional aeronauts.
Ialsowanttoextendmydeepest
thanks to eachTeam 5 member –those
who chased and those who helped in other
ways, from pre-flight to pack-up. Special
thanks to Tarp Head and Desiree Reddick,
DanandSusan Stukas, Bob Willbanks,
DrewBarrett,Bu ckyBrown ,Ri ck
Neubauer, Dan Fitzjarrald, Dick Patton,
Earl Miller and Allison Davies. I want to
thankDaveLinigerandRE/MAXfor
sponsoringthisevent andthe race offi-
cials and staff for producing it. I also want
to take this opportunity to thank my part-
ner and Co-Pilot, Tom Davies for all of his
efforts to make this expedition possible.
