--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From the President . . .

Dear Fellow Balloon Enthusiasts,

While thinking about what I could impart to my fellow balloon pilots in this newsletter, I decided to reflect upon a certain balloon rally. This rally happened to "wine and dine" their pilots quite nicely, and it was always a super time. The pilots would all receive a great pilot pack, some show up money, superior sleeping accommodations with an indoor pool, great food and candy. This one year, the weather was supposed to be unfavorable for the entire event, but there appeared to be a very small window of opportunity for a flight on Sunday morning. The weather briefing forecasted that winds aloft at 1,500 feet would be over 20 knots and would come down to the surface quickly. The pilots were told that if they chose to fly, it would be "greatly appreciated", and would "make the sponsors happy, hhhumm, (pause) who had paid for us to be there in the first place and have treated you so well."

To my surprise, between 10 to 15 balloons launched aggressively that morning, and I wanted to remain a spectator only. However a feeling of guilt continued to permeate from the rally staff by verbal and nonverbal means. I reconsidered a takeoff from one end of the field and then quickly land at the other side of the field. It appeared that everyone was traveling east, but when my passengers and I took off, I ended up heading east-southeast. I immediately began looking for my landing site, but every field in front of me became a near miss. It was one of those flights where every open field was either to my left or to my right, but not in my flight path. I made an approach that depended on winds from the east-southeast, but now they weren't there and I ended up heading south. I did a touch and go in the middle of a tree. I regrouped, added some heat and popped up over a mountain, (a tall hill to those reading this outside of Central PA).

Our ascension was high enough to catch those forecasted fast winds that were already coming down and I instantly picked up speed. Soon I found a potential landing site and began to let the balloon cool down. I leveled off at about 300 ft and then began another cool down. This time the balloon did not want to drop, but the balloon was getting colder and colder, since no heat had been added. Finally, the balloon started to drop rapidly and I jumped on the heat from both burners. Now, since I had to slow down the descent, I ended up missing the field, and greeted my second tree of the day. As I rebounded out of that tree and climbed fast, I was blessed to find another field ahead of me that I thanked God for inspiring the farmer to plant hay in. We landed with a thud and a drag. No one was hurt, and no one got arrested.

On this flight I experienced false list from the fast winds flowing over the top of my curved balloon. If I had adhered to my flight safety guidelines, "Do not fly if winds at 3,000 feet are over 20 knots", I would have never spent those moments of the crisp fall day wishing I was safely on the ground, instead of being in the air.

The other moral of this story is, that because of my compromise in my safety parameters, I ended up feeling somewhat like a prostitute. I blame no one but myself for letting wrong motives influence my decision that morning. I really was motivated to "help them out", to "make the sponsors happy". But really, when it's all said and done . . . no one cares about you and your equipment like you do. Listen to that still, small voice and not the lure of the thrill or the heat of peer pressure.

Soft landings, and I mean that,
Your Prez,
Kirby Kopp