Napa Valley wasn't solely about the wine. It was about adventure too - adventure thousands of feet above the air in a hot air balloon. Can you imagine the first time a guy said," why don't we fire up a balloon and fly wherever the wind takes us?" And what idiot said," hey that sounds like a good idea," and crawled into the basket with him?
And I mean literally crawled into the basket - because there are no doors to get into a hot air balloon basket. A few little holes that you can stick your feet in to help you get up into it - but it is a little like the rock climbing wall at the gym - or swinging up onto a horse.
I didn't have much of a problem getting into the basket. But let me tell you - it was an awkward 5 minute ordeal trying to get OUT. I should also mention that in order to get OUT of a hot air balloon basket, you have to do it one at a time. So everyone else who rode with us was standing there watching me try to heave my way out, while losing shoes, falling, and overall looking like a hot mess.
I have no idea how the 85 year old man climbed out - I'm pretty sure he got some assistance - but I guarantee he probably did so with more grace then I did. Just an FYI: don't wait until you are old and feeble before checking "ride in a hot air balloon" off your bucket list.
So they fired up the balloon - and off we went. We were the first balloon up in the air - which we later discovered meant we were the guinea pigs because our pilot would get caught in the air drifts at different heights(which would send us all over the place - and not necessarily where our pilot wanted to go). So our pilot would tell the other balloons what directions the winds were at each heights so they could plan where - and where not - to go.
He was a GREAT pilot though - funny, had an accent, and good at flying. And yes, had an accent does factor into his status as a great pilot. If we were spiraling to the ground, at least he could say "Brace for your death" in a cool voice.
It was B-E-A-Utiful flying over the Napa Valley vineyards in the early morning.
The challenge of landing a hot air balloon in Napa is the obvious - there isn't a lot of unused land. Everyone is trying to capitalize on every inch of fertile soil to grow grapes - and their wine sales. The few non-grapevine-covered patches of ground, either a) we weren't blowing by them - not a lot of steering in a hot air balloon - or b) were apparently owned by an old bitty who hates hot air balloons and will chase you off her land with pitch forks and attack dogs.
So we decided to land on this road - because that's where the wind was taking us.
Our balloon chasers caught us and pulled us down - a perfect landing right there in the intersection. And then they had to drag us down the road to a clearing so we could deflate the balloon. We hit a speed bump or two along the way. (Literally).
A champagne brunch at the Napa General Store followed our hot air extravaganza. Napa is a cute little town, but to anyone heading to Napa Valley, FYI: there isn't much in the town of Napa. A few stores, and a hotel or two, but the majority of the wineries are farther north - St. Helena, Rutherford, Calistoga. (Ironic, considering the famous wine valley is called Napa.) We stayed in a bed and breakfast in St. Helena.
While we were in the area, we went to see one of the world's old faithful geysers.
First, let me say, I wasn't aware that there were multiple Old Faithful Geysers. I only knew of one, in Yellowstone National Park, but apparently there are three with that name.
These are the geysers that perform at regular intervals. I guess they are faithful in their water spouts.
The average interval for the Old Faithful Geyser of California is 30 minutes. When we were there, it was spouting about every five.
Its interval can be a predictor of earthquakes:
"
From two days to two weeks prior to an earthquake, the Old Faithful Geyser of California gives warning by delaying its regular performance from the average thirty minutes to a longer interval. During this prolonged interval, it may send up "splits," small eruptions to no more than two or three feet in height, every few minutes. Finally, after the long delay, a 60-foot column of water and steam shoots upward."
I'm glad it was spouting regularly while I was there. I didn't really need an earthquake in my last few weeks in Cali.
It is a pretty impressive sight to see.
The scenery itself was beautiful too. And in case you wanted to take any foliage home, be warned, "No cutting or taking shrubbery. Violators will be prosecuted." No Shrubbery for the Knights who Say Ni here at the Old Faithful Geyser. (It's a Monty Python movie reference, mom).
Too bad the knights aren't seeking fainting goats. Because of a hereditary
genetic disorder called
myotonia congenita, the Tennessee fainting goat's muscles freeze for roughly 10 seconds when the goat is startled. Though painless, this generally results in the animal collapsing on its side. (Why there are Tennessee goats in northern California is an entirely separate topic).
Painless or not, I couldn't bring myself to startle the little guys. I'm a sucker and bought the grain pellets and corn you could get for a quarter from the petting zoo dispensers. But look how cute he is. Could you knock him over without a guilty conscious?
Now transitioned from California to Texas... So begins a new chapter of adventures.
