I do wonder what possesses people to do stuff like this. Not because I think it's crazy; oh no, far from it.I love it. I think it's great. I want to do it myself.
But I just can't figure out what switches have to be turned off in a person to go about getting their thrills this way.
I've done some crazy fool shit in my time, but just about all of it on impulse and adrenaline. (And for the record, I don't consider firefighting to be crazy stuff.) To actually plan out an air ride like this, almost 200 miles in a lawn chair with balloons for lift and water jugs for ballast -- Mr. Couch, you are one crazy fuck. I'd be honored to treat you to dinner.
The story of Larry Walters, the first to pilot patio furniture, into federal airspace no less, made me giggle for years. His suicide in 1993 was about the biggest bummer of that year for me. I like my reckless heroes a little crazy, yes, but not beyond help.
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I think my favorite part of the story was:
He popped enough balloons to set the craft down, although he suffered rope burns. But after he jumped out, the wind grabbed his chair, with his video recorder, and the remaining balloons and swept them away. He's hoping to get them back some day.
What a bummer man!
(Although I do a mean lollipop guild imitation on helium.)
gkl: You can be there to watch me toss my guts up afterwards, just like old times. :D