His name is not Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkel Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs, but he’ll answer to Kevin Herschman. Oz, as his friends may call him, is the engaging young man piloting the blue balloon many locals have seen drifting over the Valley for the last couple of weeks.
Herschman, as his nickname implies, is somewhat of a wizard. The enterprising 25-year-old from Louisiana operates aground and aloft as “Hot Air Balloon Adventure.” He literally built his own business, making his balloon himself soon after graduating from Oberlin College in 2005. Then it was him and his balloon On The Road all the way to the Anderson Valley, land of sunshine and mild breezes perfect for a young man who earns his way lifting the adventurous up, up and away.
Herschman says he became fascinated with balloons when a series of championship balloon races were held in his home town of Baton Rouge when he was seven years old. He earned his commercial hot air balloon pilot rating while still in high school but couldn’t do much ballooning during his college years.
When the young aerialist graduated from college he took his modest accumulated savings and put this question to himself: Should I buy a car or should I buy the materials to build a balloon? No contest. The Wizard chose balloon.
It took Herschman about a month to put the balloon together, most of that time devoted to hours and hours of sewing. He learned to sew on his own after graduating from Oberlin, using a friend’s sewing facility to piece his dream ship together. The friend, you see, had just finished stitching together his own blimp. The helium brotherhood is as close knit, you might say, as the seams on their magnificent flying machines.
After the initial materials were obtained and the basic sewing was complete, Herschman discovered that he had a circle with “raw” fabric edges around the outside that needed to be tacked down. When told by his blimp-making buddy that the balloon had to be, in effect, hemmed, Herschman yelled, “I don’t want to do it! I’ll sew load tapes around the edge! Anything! I can’t hem! Hemming is for girls!” Having purged himself of this most un-Oberlin-like macho, Herschman hemmed his balloon’s skirts.
The sewing complete, and we’re talking A LOT of sewing, to make his balloon ready for lift-off for himself and paying customers, Herschman bought propane tanks, a burner and a collapsible basket. (Persons ascending with Herschman will be reassured to learn that the under-belly of his balloon is made of fire-proof Nomex, the material firefighters wear. The Nomex can’t catch fire from the propane burner.) Herschman bought himself a used pickup and a trailer and went on the road hoping to support himself by selling rides.
Drifting into Anderson Valley for the Mendo-a-Go-Go festival a couple of weeks ago, and confident he could persuade at least a few attendees to go up in the air with him because he and his balloon had been a big hit at the Caspar Community Fair the week before, the normally ebullient entrepreneur ran right into a big Friday rain.
But Saturday and Sunday were perfect for ballooning, warm, the valley’s air sweetened by Friday’s downpour. Mendo-a-Go-Go’s producers, the vivacious Jeff and Jan Peters of Philo, and a few other locals were soon drifting over the Valley’s late fall kaleidoscope of a hundred shades of gold as the earthbound waited for their turn in the sky as fascinated locals volunteered to serve as the balloon’s ground crew. “Anyone can come over and get involved in the air or on the ground,” says Herschman. “All kinds of participation is fine. Just walk right up. I’m always ready for more help on the ground.”
“I’m not running a typical balloon ride business,” says Herschman. “It’s a small balloon. So I can’t handle heavy couples. There’s a weight limit of about 300 pounds or so in addition to me. I’m a pretty good pilot — commercially rated. I don’t have as much air time as some of the older pros — I’m not up to 1000 hours yet. But I’m pretty good. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been doing this for years already.”
Herschman says he’s not doing what some people might call “Wine Country Tours” like the ones in Napa County where balloonists always take the same route. “With this decent fall weather and fairly calm winds I can give people a new look at their Valley,” Herschman says, “and have some fun in the process.”
The typical Valley ride lasts between 20 and 50 minutes, depending on weight, wind at take-off, and landing areas. So far Herschman’s been going up from the Philo area and floating towards Boonville on the sea breezes wafting in off the Pacific. “It’s $75 per person, and more if they can afford it because that barely covers my expenses. I’m on a real tight budget — I’m not in this to make a big profit.”
Asked about the unplanned landings he’s made in yards and ranches of Valleyites, Herschman explains, “I haven’t heard any complaints yet. That’s just the way I have to operate. I try to be as careful as possible.”
Herschman says he’s pretty good at sizing up how someone might react to a possible landing by looking at the landing zone area from the air. “I can usually tell if it’s OK,” he says. “In these light winds, if I see someone down on the ground I can yell down, ‘Hey! Is it OK if I land here?’ Sometimes I’ll put it down and ask for permission to bring the truck up to the balloon when the people who own the place come up to me. Usually they’re tickled to let me do it. If they’re upset, I can usually add a little heat to the balloon and get up and go on to another spot.”
By special arrangement with a single customer who’s not too, ah, heavy, Herschman says he can do longer distance flights if the winds are blowing from, say, Anderson Valley to Ukiah. “I usually don’t go much over 6,000 feet, but I can get as high as 12,000 or so without relying on oxygen,” he says. “With one passenger we can do some cool landscape flying.”
Herschman says he follows all the FAA rules, including the ones about staying at least 500 feet above the ground while in the air. “We’re regulated and licensed through FAA just like other aircraft.” (Indeed, we found a copy of his FAA license on line.)
Herschman says he’ll be in the Valley until the weather gets bad. To book a flight give him a call on his cellphone at 225-772-4208.
The slogan on Herschman’s truck reads, “The sky’s not the limit.” I asked him what that’s supposed to mean. “It’s just what I painted on the truck,” he chuckled. “I thought it sounded cool. It means whatever you want it to mean.”
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