Up and away with fear of 'heightness'

Not long ago my husband and I made up our Bucket Lists — stuff we want to do before we die.

We did this, it's true, because we're both getting older, although I've always been a Bucket List maker.

Side note here: It's interesting to see how your desires and interests shift over time. For instance, when I was younger I always used to put "own a horse" on my lists. Meanwhile, the years went by, and one day I realized I didn't care if I had a horse anymore. Especially now that I have a Newfoundland dog! Because the ONLY difference between our dog and a horse is that a horse doesn't live inside and climb on the couch to watch TV when you're not looking!

But that isn't the point.

The point is this: In all the years I have made up Bucket Lists, not once did I ever say, "I want to take a hot air balloon ride before I die."

That's because I thought if I took a hot air balloon ride, I would IN FACT DIE. And, seriously, where's the fun in that?

Not wanting to go up in a hot air balloon reminds me of my youngest brother who refused to get on a ski lift when he was 6 years old.

"There's only two things in this world I'm afraid of," he explained to our father. "Fastness and heightness."

Well! There are only two things in this world that I'm afraid of, and those would be "heightness" and also "heightness."

(OK. Excuse me while I go lie down for a minute. Just thinking about heightness has made me sick to my stomach. Thanks! I feel better now!)

ANYWAY. Hot Air Balloon Ride — not on my List.

However, it's on my husband's list. Or it was. But now he can just cross it right off, because last Saturday he and I and a group of his co-workers (along with our awesome pilot Tommy Bobby) went sailing over Park City like the smartypants Wizard of Oz.

OK, I will not lie. I was completely terrified at first — too scared to think, in fact! Although if I hadn't been too scared to think, I may have wondered LOUDLY (also NOT NICELY) why I was doing something on my husband's Bucket List that involved a lot of "heightness."

In the words of that old '70s band 10CC, "the things we do for love."

About halfway through the ride, however, the most amazing thing happened. I stopped gripping the sides of the basket … and breathed.

The morning air tasted cool and fresh.

What struck me, in fact, was how calm and peaceful it was up there 11,000 feet in the air. So calm. So still. There we all were, drifting light and lazy across the bright horizon. Not worrying about anything at all.

Least of all plunging to our deaths.

The moral of this story? Sometimes it's a good thing to try something on another person's Bucket List.

e-mail: acannon@desnews.com