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"A Famlly Tradition for 128 Years" PORT PERRY STAR - Tuesday, June 7,1994 - 3a Every once in a while I like to do something extremely dangerous and since nobody in their right mind wants to die alone, I always bring my brother-in-law, Danny, along. Danny is much different than me in that he hates doing dangerous things. But Danny can be tricked. "You wanna go to the States, Dan, and drink champagne in a field," 1 asked. "Okay, Bill" he replied, "what do I wear?" A few hours later near Mayville, New York we stopped in the parking lot of the Good Morning Farm to watch a group of locals assembling one of those gigantic hot air balloons. We left the car to get a closer look and soon enough we were tugging and untangling ropes, unfolding and separating pleats of nylon. Standing beside the small wooden basket as they inflated the balloon we were rapidly dwarfed by its enormity - a 90,000 cubic foot tear drop of nylon bursting with the fiery heat of two propane jets and measuring seven stories high at its fullness. "Okay," said Captain John, "get in Dan." "How'd he know my name, Bill?" HOW | GOT A SOAKER, BALLOONING asked Danny. "He's a psychic balloonist, Dan" I said. "He used to work with a crystal ball and all his customers said he was full of hot air and so one day.... "I'll get you for this, Bill" said Danny as several crew members stuffed him into the basket. At this point I tried to cut and run, thinking it would be great to be an interested spectator at a dangerous event, but they hauled me in too. Danny who has a deep-seated fear of heights didn't want to go. If I learned one thing from three years at an accredited Canadian University it's the art subtle psychological persuasion. I tucked my thumbs in my armpits and began flailing my arms up and down all the while circling Danny and making a clucking noise. The crew managed to remove Danny's hands from my throat just in time for take-off. It was, as the song says, some kind of wonderful. There is no sensation of flight and very little of height. You just rise, slowly, as if by spirit and the countryside shrinks below your feet. Everything on earth gets smaller and slower until it reflects a shade of serenity you can only wish it possessed. There is no noise or wind resistance because you are the wind, drifting oddly on unseen natural currents over landscape you've never seen from this implausible perspective. And you float: just above the tree tops, just beneath the clouds. You sweep across a sun-burst horizon, azing down at this still life fresco of arms and villages frozen by distance. It's like dying and slowly ascending to Heaven except you're with your brother-in-law, so you know, technically, that would be impossible. And the real neat part? It drives dogs nuts! The occasional blast of the propane burners that propel us upward make a sound that startles animals on the ground, especially when it's coming from somewhere over the heads. Inside of 30 minutes we had every dog in Chautauqua County howling and yapping and running in circles. As a postie, Danny didn't fnd this quite as amusing as I did. It was as peaceful and reverent experience as I've ever had, right up until we hit the trees. Trees, as Danny was quick to point out to me, are the natural enemy of airborne balloons. If you accept the idea that a balloon is a ship on a sea of sky, trees are kind of like icebergs. Captain John, our friendly flight commander had to bring the balloon. down by sunset, by law. The prevailing currents of wind had brought us over forests and houses, spooked deer and stopped traffic but Straight From The Hip ... by William Thomas near an open field. He tried an abrupt and awkward landing in an open corner of a roadside field and we would have made it too if a rope didn't get tangled in the limb of that tree and our basket came hard into the upper limbs. That's when Danny said the bad word: "Holy ----!" Did I mention people on the ground, of which there were several dozen, could hear a pin drop on the floor of the balloon's basket. Yeah, well there's now a minister in Chautauqua Count who had no idea you could bless suc an event. I got the crowd back on our side however, when, in a valiant effort to rid the balloon of ballast I tried to throw my brother-in-law overboard. But Captain John saved the day when he so skillfully and smoothly brought that balloon in for a beautiful humorous landing. Actually the word is humus. He claimed he didn't know that Wellman Farm was completely carpeted by a foot-and-a-half of the richest, ripest, squishiest cow manure in all the county. But he was still laughing when he pulled away with the crew leaving Danny and I crawling around on our hands and knees, groping for our footwear. Damn, but I love it when a plan comes together. And yes, we did drink champagne in a field. It's traditional. Honest, you could even look it up. Jim Owens, Balloons over Chautauqua 716-484-9961. uo ISH , we: PLAGCE EABERS The Ultimate Do-It-Yourself Project Vented Gas Stove TEA Direct Vent Gas stove... 91 , 7199.00 $1,599.00 Complete with all fuel lines, shut off valves, venting, etc. Everything you need to complete the job plus the technical expertise of our gas fitters to help you through with all the advice you can use! 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