ShareThisLate one night last October, I was sitting in our yard, looking out, as I often do, on the lights of the Las Vegas Valley.
My husband had gone inside for a moment. I closed my eyes, listening for coyotes and was puzzled by a whirring noise.
Looking up, I saw an enormous flying object -- dazzling white with flashing lights -- hovering overhead.
"Better get out here quick!" I called to my husband, "I think I'm about to get beamed up!"
That was my first close encounter with the M Lightship -- a 178-foot electronic blimp that sails the skies over Vegas advertising the spring opening of M Resort, Spa and Casino.
I watched it that night glide off toward the Strip and said, "Imagine riding in that thing."
Last week, I decided to do more than just imagine it. I called up the M folks and asked politely if I might hitch a ride.
Be careful what you ask for.
Monday, it snowed in Vegas, a rarity. Wednesday, it snowed again, bringing to mind the proverbial "hell freezing over."
By Saturday, at the airport, it was 40 degrees, patchy snow on the ground, but clear skies and -- thank you, God -- no wind.
Wind is no friend to a blimp, which is basically a big, fancy balloon, filled with 170,000 cubic feet of helium. We've all seen what happens if a balloon gets caught in a gust of wind. Or poked by a sharp object. Or tangled up in electrical wires.
"Ready?" said the pilot. My husband and I climbed into the passenger compartment on the underbelly of the ship. I took the seat next to the pilot.
Out in front of the ship's nose, four men on either side stood holding onto ropes, awaiting clearance for liftoff.
To lighten the load, sandbags were removed in 25-pound increments (more, more, until it started to get embarrassing) and then finally, incredibly, we were -- yes -- lighter than air.
As a child, I wondered how it might feel to be a balloon that slips free and floats across the sky. This was about as close as I will ever get to that.
We rose quickly, and I felt my breath catch in my throat as the ground crew released the ropes and shrank out of sight.
The pilot sat in his "wheelchair" pumping foot pedals, flipping switches, turning the wheel, using the ship's motor to control speed (30 mph) and direction.
In minutes, we were 750 feet above the Strip, looking down on hotels and casinos, the Luxor, the Rio, the Bellagio, Caesar's Palace ...
Tourists looked up, pointing, waving, snapping pictures.
All around us, rimming the valley, mountains rose up white with snow, some rugged, some rolling, all defying description.
"Open the window if you want to take pictures," said the pilot. I slid back a panel, leaned my head out and looked down.
I wish you could've seen it. It's a view I'd seen countless times, but never like that, with my head out the window and the wind in my hair. The way God sees it, maybe. Sin City looked a lot like heaven.
We headed back just as the sun began to set, inching its way over the Spring Mountains, gilding the sky pink and gold.
"Did you get all the pictures you need?" asked the pilot.
"I don't need pictures," I said. "I think I'll remember this."
At the airport the ground crew was waiting in a "V" formation. We glided in, they caught the ropes, a perfect 10 experience.
An 11, my husband said.
The end of a year is a good time to look back on where we have been, and start dreaming about where we want to go.
Where do you want to go? What do you want to do? Who knows what adventures will come flying over your house?
Anything is possible. It's worth waking up each day just to see what will happen next.
(Sharon Randall can be contacted at P.O. Box 777394 Henderson NV 89077 or at www.sharonrandall.com.)
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