Hot Air Balloon Ride in New Mexico

I have a good reason for being absent from blogging for a couple of weeks.  I traveled to Albuquerque, New Mexico on vacation with my best friend, Brenda.  After Dean passed away and upon my daughters diagnosis, I realized how fleeting life could be so I decided to compile a bucket list of items that I wanted to accomplish before I got kicked to the curb myself, so to speak.

One of those adventures was to ride in a hot air balloon.  Probably not a big deal most of you say, but as I have aged, I slowly developed a fear of heights.  Its one of those phobias that appears out of no where for some reason and I deal with it as best I can.  My acrophobia bothers me most when I hike up a mountain, stand on a ladder or just trying to enjoy the view at the top of a high building, such as the space needle or empire state building.

Needless to say, I was terrified the morning we were to float up into the New Mexico sky and in the first picture above you can see the look on my face.  It says

"I'm smiling on the outside but dying on the inside...help me....I don't think I can do this."

Regardless, I refused to let my fear get the best of me so I forced myself to stay in the tiny basket that was to hold eleven...yes I said eleven people (no weight restriction).  When I first saw the passenger man basket, I thought

"Surely it can't hold the weight of eleven individuals, it looks so small, flimsy and kind of worn out."

Before I knew it, we were being directed to step inside the woven death trap.  We lined up like sardines in our tiny one foot square area allotted for each one of us.  On each side of me was a mat with a strap, the kind that used to be below me while trying to climb that dreaded rope in grade school gym class.  I wasn't sure what its purpose was, but I didn't think it was going to cushion a fall from the sky. 

After I climbed in, I stood frozen in my designated spot, finding it hard to take a deep breath.  The look on my face must have been alarming as one of the friends I was with asked if I was all right.  My eyes teared up and I whispered,

"I'm scared."

He looked at me and said nothing and turned away,

"I probably freaked him out," I thought in embarrassment.

Right about then, the heat from the fire filling the balloon with hot air, blew long and hard and we started to lift off.  Our pilot was the spitting image of Woody Harrelson.  For some odd reason, this gave me comfort.  Maybe because if Woody was flying the balloon, we had a better chance of survival.

"Here we go...."  My mind went blank and I kept my eyes on the skyline, bracing myself for unknown disaster.  My conscious was telling me that if the worst happened, and we were to burn up or crash to the ground then at least I would be with Dean. 

"Don't look down....don't look down..." I chanted to myself.

It was silent, the only sound being the burner occasionally firing off to keep the balloon rising into the sky.  I was in awe of the gentle way we continued to rise into the atmosphere, quietly floating upwards, drifting with the wind.  I don't know if everyone was mute or if I just couldn't hear them, but all of a sudden, my fears melted away and I started to feel excited at the magical experience of where I was. 

"I'm doing it!" I thought.  "This is amazing!"

I started snapping pictures and pretty soon, the lady next to me said

"Do you want to trade places?"

"Sure, I think I can handle it now."  I answered her.

I moved to the corner section of the basket and continued to take pictures.  It was so beautiful, the landscape below and the many hot air balloons floating in front and behind us.  I was astounded that we did not collide with one of the other drifting gas bags.  Surprisingly, I wasn't scared to look down, up or ahead.  My phobia seemingly had disappeared for some reason.  I didn't question it, instead I enjoyed that I could love the experience I was currently having.  We continued to drift silently, an occasional murmur from one of the passengers.  The balloon would drop in altitude and float along closer to earth and then soar back up into the air.

All too soon, our trip came to an end.  We dropped in elevation and hovered closer to land.  Suddenly, Woody (yes, that's what I'm calling him), yelled,

"Everyone face backwards and grab the strap in front of you!"  "Brace...brace...brace...!"

"Wait!..What?"  I thought.  Quickly I did as he told. realizing why the strap and mat were there.

"Shit...Shit...!"  I said out loud as I grabbed the strap and bent my knees to hold for impact.

Suddenly, the basket slammed into an embankment and the balloon dragged the basket up over the ledge until we hit flat ground.  I was glad I was not on the bottom level as I quickly glanced behind me and saw the dirt flying around an old lady's head beneath me.  Woody manipulated the balloon to deflate and we came to a grinding halt.  The second picture above is right after we landed, Woody jumped out of the balloon and took our picture.  We are all smiling with relief that we landed without injury.

I was elated.  I had survived.  I knew Dean was with me, watching over me, protecting me.  I just wish I could have held his hand for the ride.