Who goes on a hot air balloon ride?

Other aviary options are more accessible, predictable, efficient, practical, and thrilling. We don’t often see hot air balloons and usually we have to go looking for them. They don’t really get you anywhere, which makes you think twice about the expense of taking one.

They don’t seem safe. Our experience with balloons is they pop. Add to that what keeps the balloon moving is a massive propane flame, literally towering inside the balloon, its sheer heat sunburning bald spots. Mix in wind and bird beaks and if you thought about it long enough, you may conclude you’re effortlessly floating through the atmosphere on an imminent death machine.

Alas, the hot air balloon is no death machine. It’s a simple, yet well-constructed marvel that’s expertly guided by a pilot with only two propane torches at their disposal.

A couple of weeks ago in Asheville, NC, I went on a hot air balloon ride with my wife, a pilot, and four other people. Stuffed in the basket like picnic sandwiches, we took flight and rose to 3,000 feet.

In a balloon, I found there are two unique sensations that distinguish it from other experiences.

The first is the tiny amount of space you take up in the open sky. Unlike a large plane, observation deck, or helicopter, you’re floating in a little basket with nothing else around you. It’s eerie to be in the middle of the sky with such a small vessel holding you up there.

The second is the quiet stillness. When the flame isn’t burning and the people aren’t talking, the flight seems motionless and deaf. You’re literally standing still in the air.

The small area of quiet stillness allows one to reflect on a world without sound, or motion. Below you, chaos and cacophony are kings. Their throne is speeding cars, blaring sirens, flashing lights, walkers, runners, bikers, yard workers, bulldozers, tankers, and a thousand other comings and goings. Yet from above it’s imperceptible. If a village screamed you wouldn’t hear it, if the earth quaked you wouldn’t feel it.

On a day like this, autumn’s peak bursting with warm hues stretched to the horizon, it would seem there’s no better use of time then to cease one’s frenzy and be forced to look at it all, 3,000 feet up in mid-air, no less.

It was up there I realized—or was in a fresh way reminded—that resting in motionless awe is one of the deepest yet simplest of human experiences. Looking upon such beauty in such silence can only be explained as something we were meant for.

If only we could fly in a balloon so often.