Instead attention will be turned towards the unmistakably breathtaking spectacle that this sport rewards its participants with. The mountains lose some of their majesty, lending it instead to the plains that stretch out for miles underneath the gondola. From above you can see the land arranged in patterns that could not be perceived from the ground, or observed in such great detail from a plane. But the dominating sensation of the whole experience is the feeling of an almost complete lack of motion in the air. The breeze, when there is one, is gentle and unimposing.
Silence seems to permeate the entire experience.
Gradually, the balloon begins to descend again and the ground comes forward to retrieve its prize that the ingenuity of men from a long time ago had stolen away. A scrub brush lies in the path of the gondola touching down and provides a makeshift brake as the wicker basket is dragged through it to bounce off the ground behind. The basket finds temporary flight again as it is jerked into the air by a balloon that is not finished playing in the air currents yet. The whole contraption skitters across the landscape, eventually dragging itself to an uneasy halt as the balloon maintains its struggle to return to the heavens. The ground crew that has been chasing the balloon runs out to grab onto the gondola, denying it flight until another day.