And it works. Using the cow burner helps as well, with a gentle turn of the tap to avoid that initial "bang" as the huge volume of gas ignites all at once. They hear the voice and at least mildly associate the noise with their favourite food source. They did what they do - walk/jog just ahead of the flightpath to the fence then turn and amble back to the grass. The horses were all good - they've seen it all in the Wairarapa.
It was ANZAC Day morning and I had headed out from Wellington to Masterton for the now-traditional (it was the second year in a row they have done so) dawn flight over the town. I left the cloudy, drizzling city around 5:45am and headed north, about the same time as three RNZAF Iroquois were heading south along the coast over the hills to my left for their own dawn parades, one of which would not return to Ohakea. Stories abound elsewhere about this tragedy, so I will just quietly continue with my own tale. I must admit to thinking as I drove that Denis' weather prognosis seemed wildly optomistic, but as I crossed the Rimutakas and dropped down to the plain I was met with a fine dawn, with the sun bouncing a deep red off the bottom of the one large cloud hovering to the east. It would be a good morning for ballooning.
I arrived at the launchsite at the northern edge of Masterton just as the group of about 9 balloons were spreading out ready for inflation. As is my habit I rolled up to Puff and made my way to the top end and started putting in the velcro tabs in the parachute. Today however, balloonman Denis had a treat in store for me (did he know it was my birthday two days before?). Dan King was flying the balloon this weekend and after a quick word it became apparent that Dan would be my guide for my first flight as a pilot for a good few years. His instructions were simple: There's the big hole. Turn on the flames. Point the flames at the big hole. If the flames stop going in the big hole turn them off. The inflation went pretty well - things started a little squew-whiff (because of the big banners on one side Denis reckons), but it all got up there. The take-off was a little "hoppy" as I think I'd let Puff get a little cool while the balloon in front set up and took off. But according to those on the ground it was just fine and not nearly as ignominious as some others (which made for some tales at breakfast).
Puff is quite a responsive wee beast and with just four on board responded well to small inputs. The key was just keeping it in level flight, which I think I did reasonably okay. We went up a bit to see what it was doing, then down a bit to catch the wee smidge right we had on the ground. Although we missed the airport (which was the target - but then I think everyone missed anyway), there were plenty of nice large paddocks to land in, so long as you avoided the giant irrigation rigs. Which I did. After a bit of a duffer on the first attempt, we flew on to the next paddock and put it down with a single hop right in the middle after about forty minutes. The farmer was happy for us to land there, the passengers were happy with their flight and after a bit of a nervous start I had a grin from ear to ear. A couple of disclaimers however: during the flight Dan controlled the turning vents to keep me facing the right direction, during which I burned to keep level flight. And while I made a good approach on the landing, Dan controlled the smartvent to give us that nice "stop". A fine contraption the smartvent is and I hope to attempt to master it soon. No photographs of the flight as I was a bit busy, but also no flight data as my useless phone decided it had the GPS abilities of a ninety-year-old Alzheimer sufferer.
Breakfast was the usual bang-up affair at the King's lovely property, during which we were treated to a close formation fly-by of a couple of Gypsy Moths. And by close I mean tight: with the trailing plane's wing tucked in behind the leader's, edging towards the fuselage and both chugging along at a steady pace. This was arranged for Pete apparently because he managed to fly directly over the cenotaph. We may have come close, but I was quite busy watching the skies around us. Anyway, after saying my goodbyes it was back home to Welly with a tale to tell for my lovely Sonnie and the boys. The spark is back in ballooning for me well and truly now after perhaps being a little lacking around this year's fiestas, including Levin. For my thoughts on the Levin event, check out the Lift Off Levin blog. For my thoughts about what goes on behind and around the Levin event, you need to come back here sometime, but maybe when I've cooled off a bit - possibly even deflated and put it back in the bag.
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