As the craft lifts gently skyward, Catherine Longmire, watching a field heavily covered with snow disappear below, admits, ”I`ve wanted to do this ever since I saw the Wizard of Oz.”
Bundled in a long beaver coat and tennis shoes, Longmire, 38, is making her first trip in a hot-air balloon. Never mind the fact the temperature is barely above freezing.
Except for the cold, it is a perfect day. It`s clear, sunny and the winds are westerly at 10 miles per hour.
Minutes before her takeoff, Longmire is part of a small group gathered on the snow-covered grounds of the Dundee Middle School in West Dundee.
An unassuming white Chevy Suburban with an attached gray trailer is parked in the driveway. With skilled hands, a crew of three, plus the pilot, gingerly lifts out a 490-pound wicker basket, its top edges accented with rich, brown suede.
Deftly, with little direction, each member of the team works quickly, snapping on ropes and burner assemblies, slipping long suede sleeves over the arms of the basket.
In each corner is a large propane tank, similar to those used for a backyard gas grill, but wrapped in an electric blanket. Because it`s winter, these insulated blankets, preheated by a portable generator, keep the fuel in a liquid state.
During the flight, the tanks will fuel the ”burn,” or short blasts of flame that help maneuver the balloon.
While Longmire and other passengers watch, the crew lifts out a 225-pound canvas sack from inside the trailer. As they lunge across the soft field to a spot some 25 yards away, a kaleidoscope of colorful, ripstop-nylon spills out over the snowy ground.
A gentle breeze darts in and out the folds of the fabric as it comes to life. A large circular fan quickens inflation (4 tons of air are needed) and suddenly, a balloon, or envelope, 75 feet tall and 60 feet wide, is straining to be free.
Everything happens quickly now. As the ground crew struggles to hold down the balloon, passengers are told to get into the basket. Almost before anyone realizes it, ”Private Sail” is airborne.
Not everyone is eager to look over the side. In fact, as the balloon drifts higher, a few passengers shuffle over toward the center of the basket, hoping for a more secure feeling. But that is soon over. Longmire, a floral designer with Tropical Plant Rentals in Chicago, is elated.
”Welcome to the flight. My name is Bennett,” says the 29-year-old pilot of this nearly silent air ship. ”During our flight today, you won`t see the monarch butterflies like we do in September, but we`re going to take you up for a look at Sears Tower.”
Bennett Schwontkowski shoots a long blast of flame into the envelope as the balloon lifts ever so gently another 500 feet into the air. It takes about six seconds from the time of the ”burn” for the balloon to gather more lift. After another burn (”hot enough to roast a hot dog in four seconds,”
says the pilot), Schwontkowski confides he has a fear of heights.
Royce Hatton, one of the passengers, expresses bewilderment. But the smiling Schwontkowski continues, ”I wouldn`t go up in an airplane or on top of Sears Tower, but I`ve been to 10,000 feet in a balloon. It`s just like being on the second-floor balcony of a building.”
Meanwhile, along the ground, a few cars pull over, and people get out to gawk at the wintertime curiosity.
”How far is it to St. Louis?” the intrepid pilot shouts to those below. ”You`re going the wrong way,” comes the answer.
Chuckling all around puts the passengers in a lighter mood. Comments are made about the instruments used to navigate and the steering needed to get the craft to respond.
Bennett informs the group that the air in the top of the balloon is 143 degrees, and the outside temperature is now 39. The sun floods those aboard, and it feels much warmer.
The weather has brought many people outdoors, and there`s lots of interest below. Bennett informs his passengers that every dog in the neighborhood soon will welcome them as the balloon`s sharp burner blasts punctuate the air.
Several groups of children shout up excitedly as they try to communicate with the balloon`s occupants, even though the basket is several hundred feet over their heads.
All the while the balloon is airborne, a chase crew follows in the Suburban. This can be pretty difficult at times, for the balloon rarely traverses straight lines or roadways.
However, the chase crew of three has had years of practice and remains in constant communication with the pilot via two-way radio. Gordon Schwontkowski, Bennett`s brother, has been working on this crew for eight years.
”A chase crew can make or break a flight,” he says. ”Poor handling, crossed wires, ignoring instructions can really cause a flight to fail. You have to learn to think like the pilot on the ground and know just how he`ll react and what he`ll do next.”
He said the best flight recorded by the crew was last summer, when the balloon, piloted by his brother, covered 90 miles.
”We managed to follow him with just a Rand McNally road atlas,” said Gordon Schwontkowski. ”Sometimes we had to drive 80 m.p.h. to stay with him, but three hours later, our hands were on the basket as he touched the ground.”
The crackle of the radio alerts the crew that Private Sail is heading higher to get a better view and to feel the winds aloft.
”Parachutes now go on sale for $99.95 and extra film is $39.95,” jokes Bennett Schwontkowski.
The balloon now is 325 feet above the ground and climbing to 1,125 feet. It won`t stay there long, however, because the wind changes the balloon`s direction, and the flight could be headed far afield.
The passengers are gaining confidence now and Longmire is taking lots of pictures and obviously enjoying the trip. ”It`s just like I hoped it would be,” she says.
As the noiseless balloon continues its peaceful journey over the snowy landscape, it`s time to demonstrate balloon competition skills. A driveway is selected, and the pilot shows those aboard how to accurately sight out and
”bomb” the target with small red beanbags filled with corn.
Bennett Schwontkowski explains that in balloon competitions, such as those held at Albuquerque or the Wisconsin Dells, there is no actual race, because all balloons move at the same speed with the wind.
The contest consists merely of maneuvering the balloon with enough skill to land at the center of an appointed target. It`s a feat Schwontkowski has accomplished many times.
He has been honing his skills since age 14, when he went for his first ride. Three years later he got his balloon pilot`s license. Since then he has made some 765 flights and formed his own company, Pilot Services Ltd. in Cary. The firm has two balloons and a crew of three. Flights cost $150.
Pilot Services plans to obtain a larger, third balloon, which would make possible longer hours and additional flight days in all four seasons.
Bennett Schwontkowski`s preference is for winter flights, on golden days like this one, when the temperatures are cool and flights can be extended. Today`s flight is no exception as the one-hour normal flight time slips into an additional 30 minutes.
Skirting the trees of Barrington Hills, the balloon heads directly east, its mammoth shadow engulfing the tops of luxurious homes and snow-filled swimming pools. Across an open field is a large herd of deer, motionless until the burner`s blast cracks through the air.
Darting and weaving over the frozen ground, the deer scare up a fox who bolts, squeezes under a fence, jumps across a creek and escapes into the cover of the nearby woods.
As the balloon passes over one last major obstacle, a large set of power lines, the pilot makes a decision where to land and offers another flight briefing. He instructs the occupants to remember to face forward, biggest people in front, knees flexed and nothing in their hands.
With several short blasts from the burner, Schwontkowski skillfully maneuvers the balloon over a low fence and into a farmer`s field. And as quickly as it went up, the balloon is down.
A little tug of wind tips the basket to one side, and pilot and passengers cling to the edges. Finally it comes to rest and everyone climbs out. The adventure is over. Private Sail has covered nine miles in 90 minutes. With considerable effort, the Pilot Services crew hauls the basket and canvas bag with the envelope over the field and into the trailer. After everything is packed away, Schwontkowski gives his passengers a certificate of flight, a souvenir pin resembling his balloon, and a bottle of champagne.
Everyone gathers for a final toast.
”Great job to my crew, and soft landings to you,” the pilot tells those who shared the flight. ”It`s been a wonderful day.”
