Tug of War – 09 January 2008

Under normal conditions the only time I see four o’clock in the morning is when I am still up, not waking up. Today however was cause for the four in the morning wake up, the need to call and confirm our balloon ride was still a go. With the push of eight buttons, a few rings and a recorded message on the other end of the receiver I was back in our guest room waking Hayley up to get a move on. Scarfing down a yogurt, a banana, a can of peaches and half a slice of burnt toast while getting ready I was ready to go. At 430am we were out the door, complete with a continental breakfast-in-a-bag for Hayley; a yogurt, a banana and two slices of buttered toast in my hand.
In the car, with tired, sleepy eyes I tried to read the ever-so-small print of our road map to get the street names we needed. Unable to focus on them without a magnifying glass I deferred the navigation to Hayley and began our way. We were excited along the route, as one of the roads we traveled on was Linwood Avenue, and it was spelled correctly. Woo-hoo! Arriving at the Merivale Mall car park at about ten to five we met with the rest of the early rising balloonists and awaited our buses. Moments later we boarded the buses and got an overview of what to expect while in route to our launch site located on a driving range of a golf course.
At the golf course participation was encouraged to help lift the basket off the trailer and stretch out the balloon on the ground. There were sixty balloonists this morning and only three balloons and baskets. Hayley and I looked at one another and questioned how in the world we would get so many people into the three baskets. Once the balloons were filled with air by fans, our pilot, Nigel, turned on the burners and began to warm the air, ultimately lifting the balloon to an upright and locked position above the basket. With a hop, skip, and a jump we had twenty three people in total in our basket, counting our pilot. Surprisingly it was not all that cramped, at least not as much as I figured it would be. Following a quick test of our “landing” positions we were airborne with Up, Up and Away Balloon Safaris.
As we drifted upwards to the Heavens the clouds and morning fog were breaking, revealing a beautiful sunrise. Far below us, some 3500 meters below, we watched the plains of Canterbury slowly pass by and took in the sounds of the sheep and cattle grazing on the farmland. It was very peaceful up there in the sky, not a care in the world, except when my mind began to think of where I was. I was doing well in our confined basket space, but if my mind got to thinking of what I was standing on and in, and how it was attached to the nylon above, I began to feel a little uneasy. Therefore, I kept my mind from thinking about it by staying focused on my video camera and capturing the beauty that surrounded us.
After an hour of flight time we assumed the landing position and gracefully set down in a farmer’s cow pasture. Once our bus and follow trailer made contact with the farm owner and provided him with a bottle of champagne we were clear to get out. Avoiding the steaming land mines left by our gracious cattle hosts another balloonist and I grabbed hold of a long black rope attached to the top of the balloon and went for a hike. Across the pasture we were in a tug of war with the balloon, ultimately pulling the warm-air filled balloon to the ground. To expedite the release of the warm air in the balloon, other balloonists laid down on the skyward side of the balloon and began to roll towards the opening at the top. The site of this was similar to a baseball grounds crew trying to get all the air out of the tarp before rolling it up. With a few whooshes of air the balloon was flat enough we could bunch it up and place it back in the bag it started the morning in. Moments later the gear was packed on the trailer and we were toasting our glasses of champagne in traditional fashion of all successful balloon rides.
Back at the car park in Christchurch we dropped our bags in the car and made a breakfast and toilet stop at McDonald’s across the street. We followed that up with a walk around the mall to see if there was anything left we absolutely needed to bring home to the States. Exhaustion hitting us made the shopping spree short and fruitless. Returning to our bed and breakfast shortly before eleven we said good morning to our host then went inside to take a nap.
“Ring, ring!” went my cell phone at two in the afternoon and I sprang to life. On the other end was a high school classmate of mine, Amy Gilman. She and her husband live here in Christchurch, along with their daughter and two dogs. Having played email tag with Amy over the past week we were setting up an opportunity to get together for a visit. Fifteen minutes after the phone woke me up we had dinner plans at Amy’s tonight at 7pm.
For the time being though, Hayley and I needed some food. We made a trip down the hill and then a right into Sumner along the coast of the Pacific. After parking the car we walked around until we found a place called Poseidon on the beach. The food was not anything to write home about, but it was food that satisfied an empty stomach. With our time in New Zealand dwindling we wanted to soak up as much as we could. We took a walk along the beach, explored the Cave Rock adjacent to the restaurant we ate at, browsed the opened stores in town and window shopped the “closed for the holidays” art galleries. Returning to our residence in Christchurch we took our turns showering and I downloaded the day’s photos.
About 645pm we rolled up outside Amy’s place. With introductions out of the way we made our way to the back deck to sip on some Pepsi while Amy’s husband John tended to the grill with tonight’s fare. During conversation first my eyes lit up then Hayley’s eyes lit up as we both discovered what was on the plate John was bringing to the table, buffalo wings. From their experience the first time they visited New Zealand, one food they craved after three weeks was buffalo wings, not a standard menu item down here, but a staple amongst us all. As Hayley and I tore into the wings and Amy fed their daughter, John returned to the grill to finish up the next course. With the wings disappearing, John placed on the table a bowl of roasted red peppers and zucchini and a platter of steaks and sausages. Hayley and I were in Heaven, delicious and familiar foods. Now wait, the best has yet to come. For dessert, Amy cooked up a raspberry and strawberry pavlova. In the kitchen with the night settling in outside, we continued our conversation about our honeymoon trip, our wedding, Amy and John’s trips to New Zealand and their move here. We also discussed places of interest that either we had been they want to go or places they have been we want to go, including the Tongariro Crossing. As the glow of street lights grew stronger, we said our goodbyes about 1030pm and went home for the evening.
Home by 11pm our emotional tug of war kicked into high gear. On one end of the rope we were having a great time, loving what we have been doing and not wanting to go home. The other end of the rope resided our emotions of wanting to return home to see family, get back into a land of familiarity, and have an opportunity to relax. To compound the tug of war, we had to unpack everything so we could assess what we had to take home then play the tug of war weight limit game so we did not have to pay over-the-limit charges. It was while we were unpacking everything I discovered I had somehow misplaced the fennel honey I was so excited about bringing home and trying. In disappointment I realized I had left it in the hotel room back in Taupo, the city where I had purchased it. With our bags all packed and tomorrow’s clothes set out for the morning it is now time for some sleep.
Cheers,
Bob and Hayley

Restaurant Names We Found Funny:
· Sticky Rice
· Two Fat Indians
· The Headless Mexican
· The Salty Pig Deli