Pushing the envelope (2023 Labor Day Liftoff)

Darkness at Memorial Park. The National Anthem just as the sun hits Pikes Peak. Dozens of fans firing up. Balloons unfolding across the field as the sun hits Garden of the Gods’ red rock formations. A crowd of barely-awake locals growing but the minute. 

I have come to associate all these images with a certain time of year. I drove a few miles south to Memorial Park and prepared for a morning of adventure. 

For 2023, a swarm of drones circled across the field where hot-air balloons would soon rise for the 47th year. It was a nice addition, even if it came far too early for most to see it. 

I crewed for the same balloon, the one that gave me the opportunity to enjoy this pastime. The Nerfer crew had a rough 24 hours, with a car breakdown in Pueblo and the balloon arriving towed by a friendly balloon pilot looking to help out. A sponsor helped us set up before climbing into the basket. Help is never far away in the ballooning community. 

The balloon climbed quickly but never left sight. The air was still and didn’t push the balloon far from the field. Our chase vehicle caught it in a few quick turns. They would not stay up long, and the landing spot quickly became obvious. 

One way or another, the balloon was headed into nearby Evergreen Cemetery. Fortunately, we found a maintenance yard between plots where we could land without disturbing any final resting spots. Landing among the graves seemed guaranteed to bring bad luck, so that was fortunate. 

Only the trees were touched - The sponsor grabbed some pinecones from the top of a tree as the balloon descended. Evergreen dates back to 1875 and can claim the graves of city founders William Jackson Palmer and Winfield Scott Stratton, and activist Helen Hunt Jackson among the 90,00 burials on its 22 acres. I saw the names of many families that donated parkland. I saw legions of spires and flat stones. 

This morning, they were all part of the liftoff, since we were not the only balloon to land there. A handful of savvy spectators set up chairs in the cemetery and watched the liftoff’s 75 balloons rise without competing with the Memorial Park crowds. 

We rode in the basket on the trailer. At five feet of elevation, the breeze felt fantastic at 15 mph. Rows of tombstones rose from the heavily treed cemetery. Heading to replenish the balloon’s propane, we received our share of waves and second looks as people walking from Memorial Park realized the basket still carried people. 

The next morning, I knew he wouldn’t fly. The wind spoke too much. The pilots knew as much. The liftoff staff allowed the balloon crews to “go static” – standing up the balloons without taking off. 

Despite storms brewing to the north and south of Memorial Park, the evening glow went forward. Mike would not raise the balloon; he expected a fierce wind from one of them. We brought out the basket and set up the propane burner. Mike let a number of children climb into the basket and see how the mechanism worked. As the field darkened, the propane flame lit up the faces of many watching in wonder. 

But it wouldn’t last. The wind that Mike predicted finally came and the order to bring all the balloons down followed. In an instant, the northern storm delivered the outflow that our pilot feared. We ran for the balloon. People shouted at us to get out of the way as we tried to avoid the tumbling balloons. We helped a crew whose balloon got pushed into a tree by the gusts. They suffered a torn panel and otherwise came out fine. 

The final morning came too quickly. I had no idea what it held, although the sky bore only a few pre-dawn clouds and Jupiter running sidecar to the Moon. We unloaded and set up the balloon relatively quickly once the pilot briefing gave the okay to fly. 

I ran the crownline deep into the assembled crowd, seated entirely too close to our launch position. But we got the balloon in the air and the chase vehicle on the road with little fuss. 

We had some actual chasing to do, since the balloon took off. They rose several hundred feet in seconds and floated off to the northeast. 

The first radio call came near the Citadel Mall, far east of where we would normally begin to think about pickup. We followed Academy Boulevard up as the pink balloon kept moving. Landing spots became easier deeper into the suburbs. Most had parks. Off Academy the landing spot became apparent, a massive church parking l grabbed the crown rope and ran, pulling the balloon envelope down. 

Before we knew it, a crowd assembled. An elderly couple walking their dog. A couple driving by with their grandkids. Mike gave them a tour of the inside of the balloon before we deflated it, and the kids took turns crawling on the balloon and removing the air. Another grandfather who had been watching the launch with binoculars, then grabbed his grandkids and ran for the landing site once he realized our balloon was coming down. He swore the grandkids would remember it the rest of their lives. 

They probably won't remember, but it was a memorable flight across Colorado Springs, even for the chase team.