Littlefield D. M. - Life, Love, & Laughter: 50 Short Stories

Authors Note: Silent Thrills includes six true stories with personal insights about both authors. Although they participated in the same adventures, their individual experiences were quite different, so they included both points of view for your enjoyment.

Dottie

T he predawn silence was broken by blasts of flame from the propane burner in the hot-air balloon. I never dreamed Id be doing something like this in my fifties. As we clung to the large wicker basket attached to the glowing multi-colored balloon and waited for liftoff, I was as excited as a ten-year-old girl about to experience her first roller-coaster ride.

Sharon

After several fact-finding phone calls back in the olden days before the Internet, I decided on an early morning launch for our first hot-air balloon ride because the wind would pick up after sunrise and carry us on an exciting journey. An evening launch required waiting until the wind died before inflating the balloon and wouldve resulted in a dull, stagnant flight.

The center of my grass runway on Sky Classics Farm near Hershey, Pennsylvania was the ideal place to inflate and launch the seventy-foot balloon. Empty fields flanked the runway, but an enormous tree towered halfway up the hill between the runway and my homes backyard.

I assumed the balloon would ascend vertically from the takeoff site, and wed have restraints to tether us to the basket.

Wrong.

The sides were about three and a half feet high, and the basket was open except for the burner in the center. Passengers could walk around and peer over the sides. No belts, harnesses, netting, or parachutes.

I inherited my fathers fear of heightsactually, a fear of falling from high places. I had no problem piloting a jet airliner at 35,000 feet because it was impossible to fall out. The cabin was pressurized, and the plug doors opened inward. I was accustomed to wearing a five-point seat harness in the Boeing cockpit.

Our seven-story balloon had to be inflated with a big fan before dawn in calm wind. Once the balloon was filled on its side, the burner added hot air to lift it upright. We launched with four passengers and the pilot. I expected a slow steady ascent, but we rose a few inches, bumped back down, and continued like that as we drifted toward the sole tree.

The pilot blasted staccato shots of hot air from the burner. Nothing happened. New to ballooning, I didnt expect such a delayed reaction. A few feet from the tree, we shot up like a rocket to two hundred feet. I grasped the corner support in a white-knuckled embrace as our basket brushed past the tree.

Dottie

What a thrill! I yelled, Whee! as I leaned out and grabbed a fistful of leaves on the way by. I smiled and showed them to my daughter, who had a death grip on the support arch. Although she was one of the first female airline captains in the world, standing in an open basket soaring high above the ground made her uneasy.

Heights didnt bother me, but I wasnt fearless. My participation in somewhat dangerous activities usually followed watching Sharon go first or having her accompany me, like today.

Sharon

I didnt scream, but I thought, dear God, dont let me fall out of this freaking basket! When the balloon stabilized at altitude, so did my heart rate.

Mom kept saying, Sharon, come over and look at this! Ooh, look at that! I was glued to a corner post, a captive of Dads phobia, but Mom ran from side to side like an excited child. Thats what I loved most about her.

Dottie

Occasional blasts from the burner were the only sounds as eerie fog shrouded the rural landscape below, hugging the lowlands, rivers, and streams. The early morning breeze quickened when the sun inched above the horizon. Soon, the fog dissipated in the wind, and our balloon picked up speed.

I savored my birds-eye view as we glided silently two hundred feet above the Earth. I leaned over the basket and saw an owl dive from a tree and catch a rodent. When a deer jumped over a fence, I spotted a pheasant nearby running through tall rows of corn. Trees dressed for autumn in bright splashes of orange, yellow, and red dotted the countryside.

Sharon

I told Mom, I can see fine from here. There was no way Id release my grip, but I still enjoyed a safe panoramic view of the Susquehanna Valley. The wildlife had no idea we were flying above them until a burner blast broke the silence. Pigs and cows looked up in terror and stampeded to the barn.

Sound traveled upward. People chatting two hundred feet below sounded as if they were in the basket with us. Although a strong wind whisked us across the vast valley in record time, we didnt feel the wind because we were traveling inside ita unique experience. How was that possible? Wind is a moving air mass, and our balloon was carried along as a part of it.

Dottie

As we sailed over people, we surprised them by yelling down. A school bus with curious children pulled off the road. The kids scrambled out and cheered.

A chase car followed the flight to assist with the landing and to drive us home. Our landing in front of the kids in the brisk wind was bounce ... tip ... bounce ... tip ... bounce ... tip. We hung onto the baskets inner cables as it was dragged along for several seconds before stopping. As we climbed out, the van driver greeted us with flutes of Bollinger Champagne.

Sharon

When the pilot told us to brace for the landing, he wasnt kidding. We were moving horizontally about 20 mph when we touched down in a plowed field and carved an extra-large furrow as the wind caught the deflating balloon and dragged the basket on its side.