The good weather from Saturday afternoon continued into Sunday, which means — the balloon launch was a go!

Look who’s in the balloon basket!

Looking down at the balloon festival (I LOVE this shot!)

 
Snowmass Village from a couple hundred feet up in the air!

 
Even Humpty Dumpty was there!

Do you see Noah & Logan in the background? Neither do I…

I was placed with Michael and “Old Yeller, who came all the way up from Albuquerque. I’ll tell you what, when you’re short, it’s not as easy as it looks to get into the basket. There’s a small foot step but that doesn’t help much when the remaining distance is still the length of your inseam! Plus, inside the basket was already the pilot, Michael, and three fuel canisters. Once I was situated, a 9-year old boy joined in. He was lifted in by his dad and made a much more graceful entrance.  Logan cried until we took off.

Halfway through the ride we touched down and swapped out the boy for his dad. Then I was squished between two grown men and the fuel canisters. There really is not a lot of wiggle room in those baskets. I pretty much only had as much space and my footprint. However, it didn’t distract from the experience.

Snowmass had set up targets around the golf course and in the neighboring fields for the balloonists to hit with tennis balls.  The targets were inner tubes and each balloon had numbered balls (for the record I was in balloon #23). Unfortunately for us, even though there was not a lot of wind that morning, whenever we got close to our target the wind would shift and move us away. We never did get close enough to drop the balls.

Most of the time we were around 250-feet above the ground (appx 8400-feet above sea level). At our highest we were probably 300-350-feet up in the air. I am not afraid of heights, but it was a little nerve-wracking at the initial lift off when I realized that if something happened to the balloon we would plummet to the ground like a rock. But the scenery soon took over that thought. I also chit-chatted with the 9-year old to help calm him.

We were up in the air for just under an hour before we landed in someone’s front yard. Not like it mattered, 65% of the houses in Snowmass Village are vacation homes and the one we landed in front of easily fit into the category.  A bunch of teenie bobber girls did come by to gawk.

After collapsing the balloon and stuffing it into a bag we headed back to the field, where Noah and Logan met us, and enjoyed a champagne toast to commemorate a successful flight.

It was a fantastic experience and one that I would not might doing again! Next year, we’re going to try to go to the balloon festival in Albuquerque. Maybe we’ll run into Michael and “Old Yeller”.  Which reminds me, I need to send him some of the pictures we took.

Want to see more photos? Go here.