Kenya 2023: Chapter 27 – Inflation
The morning of the 22nd was to bring a new experience for us. It was hot air balloon ride day. We were up and out at 4:30. After leaving our gear at the desk at Keekorok, a representative from the air company took us to the launch site. James is a Maasai from the town of Talek, just north of where we were headed. We took a small Land Rover Defender into the night, the Milky Way visible on the western horizon. The Defender was a small three-row truck with canvas and plastic windows and two pop-up sections in the roof. The weather was cool and condensation formed on the windshield that James would wipe away with his pink and blue shuka (a Maasai blanket).
Just after 5:30 we reached a security checkpoint which consisted of a rope and a guard with a metal detector wand. I was not allowed to bring my Leatherman on the flight because it contained a knife (no sharp objects allowed). I handed it off to James for safe-keeping as he would be retrieving us after the flight. After signing a waiver, we waited for Greg to use a “Loo with a View”, the closest thing to a porta-potty you can find on the Mara. He shouldn’t have had that second helping of spicy pasta. Before getting back into the truck, James handed me my Leatherman without a word. I took it to mean that it’s not his responsibility to carry my stuff.
We parked not far from “security” and in the deep blue of the waking dawn, we could see several balloons being laid out. At about 6:10, a series of loud fans could be heard and the balloons started to fill. More vehicles arrived and the dawn turned to a light overcast blue. About 6:20, a truck pulled up with our pilot: a tall man with broad shoulders and an air of command.
We started gathering just after 6:30 when the pilot gave a safety briefing before asking us to form groups of four. We paired with two young women from New York City. It’s a small world after all.
Our impression was that the balloon would inflate, the basket would be upright, passengers would climb in, and away we would go. How very wrong we were. We loaded in by laying on our backs grabbing on to a handle. Behind our heads was the roar of the fans inflating the balloon. Then the burners were kicked on, deafening blasts and searing heat.
The basket began to drag along the ground as the balloon filled. The pilot was at the helm shouting commands to the dozen or so ground crew.
Bump. Bump. Bump. Drag. Bump. Bump.
After a few moments, we went from laying on our backs to sitting upright. The pilot indicated we could stand. We were two feet off the ground, but we were airborne.
