MRS. PICCARD TELLS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 190, 13 August 1934, Page 12

MRS. PICCARD TELLS.

FIRST TRIP EXPERIENCES. Mrs. Piccard, wlio. with her husband, f Professor Jean Piccard, will attempt a t flioht into the stratosphere this summer, f teFls here of her first balloon ascent. '•We drove through the icy darkness ( to the living field. There a balloon } suddenly appeared in the light of two or , three parked cars. The special bag j stood up straight in the still air, ready , to be attached to the basket. Never- , theless, it was daylight before we got , away, 5 o'clock. The sun, a red disc, ; was" just coming up over the edge of the mist. We weighed off and rose serenely in the absolutely still air, a , perfect start, a dream come true. \\ e drifted away toward the north and a little west. The winds were light and variable, sometimes blowing us a little west, though we could not gain a level with steadv winds as we had b°pe«l. About 7.30 we tried for a landing. Drifting low, we cut loose a drag rope. "Ready for a bump," cried E. J. Hill, niv instructor. "Bend your knees, hold to the ropes." We struck the ground forcibly. The balloon lurched forward. Wo lurched, swung up over a field and down again. There was no one near to help us° no one quick enough or strong enough to hold us. We struck again i and then bounced away and up, dropping a little ballast, gaining altitude rapidly. At 7000 feet we swung gently along in equilibrium. The silence was perfect, the tranquillity supreme. People no longer called to us, or, if they did. we could not hear. Occasionally, in the distance a dog barked. For a bit my husband, Jean, and I rested among the sand bags in the bottom of the basket, dozing in the warm sun. We read newspapers and discussed varied technique* of landing and of taking oil. We sat up on the edge of the basket, arms locked about the ropes, and watched our course back south toward Anchor Bay, then east across the St. Clair River to Canada. We were part of the sky, part of the wind itself. We decided to try again for a landing. This time we had better luck. A vigorous blond boy raced across a ploughed field, caught our drag rope and held it fast until crowds gathered and tied us to a tree. The wind lashed and tore the partly deflated balloon. Wo talked with the men who held us. wrote their names and the name of the town, Wallaeeburg, in our log. _ They lifted us over a fence, drove their cars out of the way, and prepared to let us. n-o again. Mr. Hill stood on the rim of the basket. "Let's go," he called, and they scattered. At the same instant, a swirl of Wind flung us tip and around and furiously down on our side. The rope lashed about among the running men. A frightened team of horses dashed for the fence, swerved, and galloped down the field with the lunging, plunging balloon in ■ rapid pursuit. We dropped ballast, vertical currents i of air carried us up, dropped us down again, thew us among the trees. At last, . there was a bit of quiet. We rose steadily, 0000, 7000, 9000 feet. The tranquillity of the upper air enveloped us. Mr. Hill reached for a cigarette. ' "I must have some sustenance," said 'I. "Lead me to a banana." In the 1 lunch basket I found one covered with . sand, bruised and crushed by the melee, i but a banana none the less. : We floated peacefully on, moving i again south and east, threading our way ! over Erie, St. Clair and Huron. Lake s Erie emerged from the mist, grew nearer • and nearer. We didn't have enough • sand to risk being carried out over it, and bandied back and forth by the wind. We valved and valved. Gradually we ' began to come down. We dropped and checked. We circle Thamesville, Ontario, . and drifted north, coming down gradually. We bounced on a field, swung i i over a wood, dropped sweetly in a broad pasture and deflated the balloon. From all sides, men, . women and children hurried, gay and curious. Soon the balloon was packed. A beautiful day was over.