Astral Ascenders Mystery Cache

Astral Ascenders

A Fascination with Flight

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Escape to the Heights

I have had a lifelong fascination with flight.  Some of my earliest memories are of kite flying and sending up balloons with notes attached.

Aerial photography was of particular interest and a friend and I delved quite heavily into this in our early teen years.  We flew cheap Gayla kites with used cameras that we bought from thrift stores, hanging from the kite line.  The trick was how to take a photo when the camera is way up in the air and we were down on the ground. 

Our initial solution was to use ice cubes clamped by clothes pins.  As the ice melted, the clothes pin would tighten, pulling a string that would trip the shutter.  This extraordinarily crude method did produce a few decent photos (and hundreds of terrible ones!).  Oftentimes, we would mistime the shutter release, bring the kite back down, and end up with photos of our feet.  That led to some curious looks from the drugstore clerks who watched us checking out the photos after they were developed!

Later, we progressed to using model airplane remote control mechanisms to take photos, and even rotate the camera.  And, in the digital age, we could take hundreds of photos and keep just the best ones.

The only aspect of flight that held more fascination for me than aerial photography was going "up there" in person.  I spent many hours reading about and dreaming of man-lifting kites and balloons.  Was it possible to experience this for myself?

Uncle Skyler unwittingly provided the answer to this question.  Aunt Kestrel and Uncle Skyler (who had the coolest names of any aunt and uncle ever) lived in Seaside in the 70s, when I was in my mid- to late-teen years.  They worked as festival and event promoters and helped supply fairs, weddings and other special occasions.  Only part of all that was of any interest to me...the helium balloons!

On a day in June, 1978, I was reclining in their back yard on a chaise lounge, gazing out to sea, as Uncle Skyler was preparing for a local event.  He had a bunch of helium balloons in his hand, and needing both hands free, tied them to an arm of my chair.  My synapses immediately began firing in overdrive.

Reality's Dream

What if....?  I remember pulling down on the string restraining those balloons and feeling an unexpected amount of lift.  What if....?  Uncle Skyler, busily filling out requisition forms, was oblivious of the trajectory of Nephew Mark's dangerously careening imagination.  What if....?  It was a spectacular Seaside day with puffy clouds, light breezes and a dozen or so kites aloft from the beach.  And those balloons.  What if there were 100 balloons rather than just six?  What if they were quite a bit bigger?  All tied to this very same lounge chair.  My mind was jumping in all directions, not the least of which was thinking what a skinny and lightweight guy I was and how the aluminum chair couldn't have weighed more than a couple of pounds....

Just like that, I was locked onto a new goal that relegated all else to oblivion.  Realizing that my uncle had gone inside, I quickly got up and took a look around his work shed.  My sight was drawn like a magnet to rows and rows of helium canisters lining one wall.  These were what he used to inflate the balloons with.  The event calendar hanging near the door, which ten minutes ago would have been infinitely less interesting than a speck of dust, suddenly achieved a level of immeasurable fascination.  Today was June 3.  The entire week of June 20th was marked out in red:  Tillamook County Fair.  Uncle Skyler and Aunt Kestrel would be gone for an ENTIRE WEEK.  Leaving their helium tanks behind.  Pure ecstasy!

I knew beyond any doubt at all that in just under three weeks' time, I would be leaving the earth behind, carried aloft in a lawn chair by a large cluster of helium-filled balloons.  Fortunately, it was right after high school graduation, and I had no other commitments whatsoever.  Course locked and laid in.

The frantic spate of preparation and research that followed was hindered only by my constant daydreaming.  How high would I go?  How far?  Where would I land?

Bangkok!   Dakar!   Stockholm!

I ordered 100 three-foot balloons from Edmund Scientific, some heavy parachute cord, a surplus military altimeter, a nice camera.  And, of course, a BB gun.  No, I wasn't planning to engage passing birds in aerial combat.  Rather, the BB gun would be my means of returning to earth.  Once I was over Rio de Janeiro, of course.  I would simply lay back comfortably in the chaise lounge and slowly begin shooting helium balloons until a gradual descent was achieved.  And of course that would be followed by a perfectly smooth landing amongst a throng of adoring admirers, all trying to find someone who could speak English.

I even assigned tech terms to my growing collection:

Sky Chariot (chaise lounge)

Visual Transcriptor (camera)

Icarus Chronometer (altimeter)

Descension Initiation Apparatus (BB gun)

Sky Binders (balloon cords)

Astral Ascenders (helium balloons)

My career in kite aerial photography gave me a big leg up.  I already knew how to attach the balloons to the lawn chair, with much gratitude to Pierre Picavet.  My mathematically-deprived brain was even able to handle some basic lift-to-weight ratio computations.  Yep, I had enough balloons and plenty of helium to do the job.  And there wasn't much more to it.  A light jacket, a sack of food items, a couple of water bottles, my Sony Walkman and some mix tapes and a pillow.  I was ready and couldn't wait for June 20th.

Jaws of Heaven

The 20th Day of June, 1978, Zero Hour, Nine A.M.  A beautifully clear and warm day in Seaside.  Departure of Uncle and Aunt confirmed.  No one on earth had any idea what I was planning...or what I was getting into.

I don't believe I had even a vague feeling that what I was embarking on might not be the very best of ideas.  What could possibly go wrong?  I initiated the final preflight checklist with the greatest excitement I had ever experienced and not a scrap of uncertainty:

• Engage Sky Chariot anchors (to hold the lawn chair down as the balloons are attached)

• Load provisions.  Double and triple check!!

• Verify reading of the Icarus Chronometer (30 feet above sea level - check)

• Inflate and attach the Astral Ascenders via the Picavet

• Board the Sky Chariot and secure (cord around waist attached to chaise arm) (in case of turbulence!)

• Release the Chariot anchors

• Escape to the Heights!

I had envisioned a slow, gentle, gradual liftoff and initial ascent.  The reality was vastly different.  I shot into the sky at an incredible rate, as though fired from a cannon.  Holy cow, this is amazing!  I was immediately glad to be secured to the chair as there was very dramatic rocking from side to side right off the bat.  I grabbed camera and binoculars and began studying and documenting the rapidly dwindling view below.

As I studied my uncle's back yard and the scene of the launch, I noticed an object sitting on the grass and it caught my interest as being vaguely familiar.  Casually, I pointed that way with the binoculars for a better view.  Yes, that's why it seemed familiar.  Sitting on the grass, just to the right of the bars that had anchored my chair, was the BB gun.  It had fallen out during the rapid takeoff.

I remember the ensuing moments with crystalline clarity all these many decades later.  At first, it seemed of only mild, passing interest.  My brain seemed reluctant to confront the implications... 

Slow Realization

A gradual, creeping sensation of alarm began to pervade my consciousness.  An invasive dawning of utter dread.  I was hurtling into the sky at an incredible rate, already, (glancing at the altimeter) over 200 feet up.  I had absolutely no idea how high I would go.  And now, no way of initiating a descent.  The BB gun, which I had so euphemistically thought of as the Descension Initiation Apparatus, was not on board the Sky Chariot and was now far out of reach.  I was utterly and completely without any form of control whatsoever and totally at the mercy of the wind.

But wait...I could simply cut away some of the shrouds attaching the chair to the balloons!  Of course I could, if I had a knife, which I didn't.  My mind frantically grabbed at a whole bunch of possible solutions to this little dilemma, but none were feasible.  I was going somewhere, and going there very rapidly and with no choice whatsoever.

One look down, though, and my panic receded quickly.  This was beyond amazing and spectacular!  I was flying - my lifelong dream becoming reality.  I would just sit back and enjoy the ride.  Reykjavik, here I come!

On a whim, I reached for the Walkman player and fired up the loaded mix tape, one of my favorites entitled, "Icarus - Born on Wings of Steel - The Music of Flight".  The titular Kansas track was the perfect fit for my mood, and the irony of the lyrics given my current situation was far from lost on me.

Early in the morning sunlight

Soaring on the wings of dawn

Here I'll live and die with my wings in the sky

And I won't come down no more

Floating on the clouds of amber

Searching for the rainbow's end

Earth so far below me, I'm here alone

And I won't come down no more

Listening to that incredible song and watching the forest sweeping by below was the greatest high I have ever, or will ever, know.

I decided I should be keeping a log, recording altitude, approximate location, etc.  This was probably a result of my penchant for organization and detail (unbeknownst to me at the time, there was a nasty bout of accountancy looming in my near collegiate future).

9:00 AM - Liftoff!

9:20 AM - 857 feet of elevation.  I could see the Pacific far to the west now.  I was traveling swiftly southeastward and still ascending at a rapid rate.  Pleasant temperature.  I slid the pillow behind my head and relaxed, marveling at the incredible view.

9:45 AM - 1,350 feet.  Forest, logging roads and clearcuts.  And a highway off to the south - probably the Sunset Highway.  Can anyone see me up here?

10:15 AM - 3,000 feet.  Some of the previous alarm was beginning to return.  No sign of leveling off at all.  How long will helium balloons maintain this much lift??  I realized then that I should have determined that preflight.  Addendum:  I now know the answer to that question - as much as a horrifying 20 hours!

12 Noon - 9,800 feet.  I have been sleeping!  Unthinkable, but even this much heaven can become tedious after a while.  Getting very cold.  I was glad to have brought some warm clothes and quickly put them all on.  A town, far, far below.  Banks, Oregon!  I could tell by the unique triangular shape of the city layout.  I must be moving very rapidly in the strong upper-level winds now.

The Gates of Delirium (Red Alert)

1:15 PM - 15,500 feet.  I was in big, big trouble, wrapped in a paralysis of aching cold and fear.  I would have given almost anything for that BB gun.  I had caught occasional glimpses of a huge city between rare cloud breaks.  And left it behind.  East of Portland!

2:00 PM - 19,000 feet.  Freezing, gasping for air, desperate, delirious, hope fading fast.

2:30 PM - 19,050 feet.  I was barely able to register the significance of this - a half hour and only 50 feet higher.  A definite decrease in the rate of ascension.  Mix tape playing for the sixth time..."and I won't come down no more...no more...no more..."

3:00 PM - 18,000 feet!!!  Descension confirmed.  I was a barely living, barely breathing icicle.  Clouds thinning.  Farmland, bare dirt and yellow grass far, far below.  No more forest.

5:00 PM - 15,000 feet.  Vague sensations of a decrease in the all-pervasive cold were beginning to register.  So very, very stiff.  Able to eat some of the minuscule amount of snacks I had brought along.

10:00 PM - 12,000 feet.  Total darkness above, scattered and distant lights far below.  Farmland at night.  What would the residents below, sitting in front of their warm fireplaces, think had they known that a passenger on a lawn chair propelled by helium balloons was passing overhead?

1:00 AM - 7,000 feet.  Sleep, warming, friendly lights below, coming back to life.  Hope.

5:00 AM - 2,000 feet.  Signs of dawn, the earth spreading out all around me, was that the smell of the earth I could sense?

8:00 AM - 500 feet.  Rapidly warming, winds slowing and travelling very slowly, descending more rapidly.  A town on the horizon! 

8:55 AM - 100 feet.  Almost no horizontal travel now.  Descending at what felt like a safe speed.  Farmland and a road not far off.  A large town less that a mile away.  Eastern Oregon??

9:00 AM - Touchdown!  Safe and sound after a very smooth landing.  Balloons still soaring over the lawn chair, but no longer enough lift to stay off the ground.  Precisely twenty-four hours aloft.  Holy cow!

The rest was as anticlimactic as it could possibly be.  I walked for 30 minutes into town and discovered that I was in Idaho Falls.  The landing site was six hundred miles from Seaside.

Fortunately, I had brought some money and was able to check into a hotel where I spent the day recovering, eating, thawing...rejoicing.

A bus back to Seaside and a few more days of recovery until my uncle and aunt returned home.  "Why, yes.  I had a great time.  Nothing much happened.  Did a bit of flying."  They assumed I had spent my time flying kites on the beach.

Thirty-nine years later.  I never made any more aerial excursion attempts.  Kites on the beach were just fine, thank you!  And I have never shared the adventure with anyone until now.

Thinking back on the events in 1978 now brings a mix of indescribable emotion and puzzlement.  Sometimes I wonder if it even happened at all.  There are online accounts, and even videos, of others who have made similar ascents.  Was I the first?  Did it really happen?

Fake news, fake history, fake memories.  We hear a lot about these of late, and it has renewed my pondering about what really happened.  I do remember the cold with crystal clear dread.  Pulling the sleeves of my lightweight jacket down over my hands in a desperate bid for warmth. 

There is nothing in my possession that has survived from the journey.  If it had been an actual experience, wouldn't I have kept the lawn chair?  The journal notes?  And that brings up another mystery.  I remember the journal notes as though I had just written them.  But, those altitude readings.  One hundred feet just before touchdown?  Idaho Falls is over 4,500 feet above sea level.  There's no way I could have had a reading of 100 feet.  It is beyond explanation. 

One thing is for certain, though - the fascination with flight has remained an unquestionable constant in my life, even if only through imagination....  Early in the morning sunlight, soaring on the wings of dawn.  Here I'll live and die with my wings in the sky.  And I won't come down no more.

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The __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ created the first balloon successfully used for a manned flight.

Larry Walter's epic (and somehow familiar-sounding) flight in 1982 prevented his ending up in the __ __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __.

The subjects of the first question kicked off a huge public interest in balloons knows as __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __.

__ __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ is a 2003 Australian comedy which is required viewing after reading the account in this listing.

Again regarding the first question, this famous flight took place in __ __ __ __ __ __.

A drawback to using helium in balloons is the fact that it passes through the balloon's membrane to the outside at a fairly rapid rate.  This process (the movement of particles from areas of high concentration to low concentration) is known as __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __.

A potentially much greater drawback applies to hydrogen-filled balloons, namely  __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __.

My Dad was likely responsible for my early fascination with flight when he (perhaps unwisely) taught me to drop Matchbox car bodies made of zinc into bottles containing some hydrochloric acid.  A balloon slid over the bottle mouth would then slowly inflate due to the chemical reaction and would rise into the atmosphere (with notes attached, of course).  The lifting gas so produced is __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __.  Alarmingly, those Matchbox cars would likely be worth a considerable amount today!

The fifth least-dense element (gas), __ __ __ __, can be used to lift balloons, but is seldom used for such due to its rarity.  Note: You may see varying opinions on the density order!  The most common answer should fit the blanks, though, and is what Wiki lists.

Altitude is most often determined by measuring atmospheric __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __, which __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ as altitude increases.

The average speed of the Sky Chariot (as related in the above narrative) was __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ mph.

See the fascinating account of Cluster Ballooning, including mention of Jonathan Trappe, who made an epic balloon flight in an ordinary __ __ __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __ __.

Very early balloons were sometimes made from animal __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ (plural) (multiple answers - pick the one that fits).

The previously mentioned drawback of hydrogen-filled balloons was tragically illustrated in 1937 New Jersey by the  __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __.

Fortunately for me, balloons made of __ __ __ __ __ were not very common in 1978.  Had the Astral Ascenders been of this much less-permeable type, I might truly have not come down no more.  They are nice and shiny, though!  (Not "Latex")

Amongst numerous embarrassing setbacks suffered by adventurer Michael Fournier was the escaping of a $200,000 helium balloon from the launch pad in __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __  just prior to his attempt to break the records for highest balloon flight, fastest and longest freefall and highest parachute jump.

The Wizard departs the __ __ __ __ __ __ __  City in a gas balloon.

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I plan to keep the cache stocked with copies of a special thematic prize.  The cache initially also contains a copy of none other than the 2003 Australian comedy mentioned above.  If you take it, consider returning it to the cache for others to enjoy.

Happy flying...from the comfort of your favorite chaise lounge (no strings attached)!