Life at 82: B is for Ballooning

On By Lois RoelofsIn aging, humor, memoir, writing
Vicariously enjoying the balloons on my way to the airport coming home…

I did it, finally. I signed up to take a hot air balloon ride a few weeks ago while in AZ. I’d wanted to do this the last couple of years, but health stuff got in the way. Two years ago a hip replacement. And the next year a serious fall. So when I heard there were a few spots left for this year, I darted to the sign-up desk and took out my credit card, not allowing myself to think the cost would pay for a few weeks of groceries or at least 28 skinny mochas. I thought, If not now, when? I was certain my agility at 82 was not going to increase as time passed, so my time was now.

As the day got closer, I received an email describing the ride, complete with a video of last year’s group. I watched that video over and over, noting the three steps I’d have to walk up, without railings, to get to the side of the balloon. I watched, with fear thumping under my sternum, how other older people deftly swung their leg over the side of the balloon from the third step without any railing.

So I practiced. I tried swinging my leg (with the original hip) up onto the mattress. It took several attempts over a few days to succeed, but I managed without falling and knocking myself out on a corner of the bedside table.

I also did a bunch of sit-to-stand exercises each day to get the jelly out of my thighs. I truly thought, then, that I was ready for this out-of-my-comfort-zone ballooning activity.

At dinner the night before, I started to worry. I had to get up at 5am to be there by 6. I never get up that early. I knew in my heart I’d be sick with this assault on my circadian rhythm. So I planned. On the kitchen bar, I laid out a granola bar to make sure I could raise my glucose level in case I got lightheaded, a small bottle of water and cough drops in case I got a coughing fit, and my driver’s license in case I passed out or had a heart attack and 9-1-1 folks would have to identify me.

I went to bed at 10, hoping to sleep. But I watched the video again: Would I really be able to walk up those three steps without a railing and then swing my one good leg over the side? I reminded myself that this may be my last chance.

 Reaching to turn the light off, I thought to scan my emails once again. And there it was: BALLOON TRIP CANCELLED–HIGH WINDS PREDICTED. And in smaller print a note saying the usual make-up day the next day was cancelled because the president was coming to town. The airspace had to be clear.

Can you feel my relief? I’ve quenched any need to ever try to go ballooning again.

19 thoughts on “Life at 82: B is for Ballooning”

  3. My husband and I had planned a balloon flight in Tuscany for my 50th birthday- sailing over olive trees and vineyards followed by a Prosecco brunch…- and then the attacks on 9/11 occurred 2 days before our flight. All was cancelled and all of our Italian reservations for the 10 days were refunded in full due to kind feelings to Americans lingering since the war. My MS symptoms were already an issue but the man who ran the enterprise assured me he would get me in and out safely. That was over 30 years ago…the timing of the universe is amazing! Yes, relief and an opportunity missed. Carrying on with strengthening the body using what we got for as long as we got it.😀

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    1. What a poignant memory! An Italian response that I don’t remember. I agree I must focus on using what I have and keeping it strong. My head/wants gets in the way at times. Thanks for the reminder.

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  4. Oh no! I hope you’ll keep trying. Or perhaps you can contact the balloon people and let them know about your leg and that you might need assistance into the basket. I’m sure it’s not the first time they may have run into that. I bought my husband a balloon trip once for his birthday. Five times we woke up at 5 a.m., only to have the flight cancelled. We gave up after that, which I’ve always regretted.

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  8. I went ballooning over 20 years ago in Central Australia. I would have been about 52. My son talked me into it and thinking back, my husband was used as ballast while the rest of us climbed in. If you no longer wish to do it or undergo the mental stress of preparing for it, then I’m sure you can imagine it or watch a YouTube.

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