Evening flights can be a funny business. It's usually a case of waiting for the wind to drop, but not so much that you're left hanging there, then hoping that you don't run out of daylight at the end. And that dropping wind can play some funny tricks. As it did in this case, with everyone taking off fairly well apart in time and distance and then all bunching up towards the end of the flight, with the unusual conditions funnelling everyone together and haing to do some fairly serious manoeuvring. Passengers on this flight were the ever-present Dave and Daisy (in Hamilton at least), workmate Kim and a chap I dragged that was standing around watching. Denis had wanted him to drive, but I gave him the ride anyways as I figured the retreive could get tricky, so I took the ground option.
And it did prove as tricky a retreive as the flight. As the balloons bunched up, they did so over one of Hamilton's main arterial routes in rush hour, with crews and other mad balloon chasers (who can be a real problem on a retreive) joining the frey.
So it was gridlock above and below. It was tedious on the ground, but quite exciting in the air - although the first-timers were blissfully unaware that this sort of traffic jam wasn't a normal part of the flight, particularly towards the end of it. Meanwhile, on the deck, even when it came time to land in the suburbs it was still a problem with the neighbours jumping in their cars (does anybody walk anymore?) and driving to the landing sites and choking up the back streets.
As it was Denis put down on a school playing field with three or four others and I missed them by a street and they'd already ripped out, but we were there to lend a hand in the final stages of the packdown amongst hordes of kids. Workmate Kim was buzzing. Turned out our unknown passenger was a plastic surgeon at the hospital - the favour of giving him a ride could come in handy when it comes time for that reconstruction...
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