WHEN THE Montgolfier brothers made the first hot-air balloon flight on Sept. 19, 1783, with a rooster, a duck and a lamb as passengers, they were unknowingly kicking off a spectacular spectator sport.
Today, balloon extravaganzas - such as the world's largest in Albuquerque, which began with 13 balloons in 1971 and has now grown to more than 600 - are exquisite.That's why I was so shaken to learn that the 12th annual Autumn Aloft to be held at Park City's Park Meadows Golf Club this weekend has been scrubbed.
I had come to regard our own Autumn Aloft - with its more modest 20-30 balloons - as the outstanding event of the fall season.
Joan Calder, Park City Chamber of Commerce Executive Director, said it is too expensive to be continued without strong corporate sponsorship, which is nonexistent.
Just like that? It's over? After 11 years?
Actually, Autumn Aloft was originally a private event, a classy balloon rally, organized by recreational pilots.
Although it attracted more people and balloons each year, it just never paid for itself, and few businesses actually benefited financially from it.
Calder said Autumn Aloft has become "a victim of its own success" and that many events "have a life span."
I'd like to believe that isn't true. We need traditions in our lives that extend beyond 11 years.
Nancy Volmer, Park City Chamber public relations representative, told me Park Meadows is no longer a desirable site because of dramatic residential growth. Houses now are so close to the golf course that they encroach on it, not only limiting the space but creating a safety hazard.
Besides, the estimated cost of the event this year is $45,000, including all sorts of extras, such as welcome packets for balloon pilots and commemorative T-shirts. When their corporate sponsor dropped out, organizers thought they had no choice but to kill it.
So I've been reminiscing about my visits to Autumn Aloft, especially my own balloon ride in 1991. By the time I climbed into the basket of the seven-story balloon and started a gentle rise above Park Meadows, the sky was clear and the mountains invincible.
We were carried unobtrusively by the wind to a height of 500 feet - treetop level. I felt occasional spurts of hot air on my head as the pilot adjusted the valve on the burner in a confident search for the right altitude and the right wind.
It was all so smooth - as if I were standing on a platform in the sky.
It is important to fly in the first two hours after sunrise, because the sun eventually causes the balloon to heat unevenly and reduces the pilot's control. The view from the air, including the many other balloons either in the air or about to ascend, was one of the most colorful and spectacular I've ever seen.
There was no sense of motion because the balloon is part of the wind.
Numerous spectators on the ground stood entranced. Although many clicked their cameras, it was an event that could never be properly captured on film.
Now it's gone. There is no more Autumn Aloft, and I am mourning its loss. Volmer tried to comfort me. She said, "The balloons are still flying up here!"
I guess they are. But there are not 30 at once on the same appointed day - and that's what I miss.
I'm mourning the loss of the combined beauty, the seven-story miracles that became part of the wind - together - in the most beautiful season of the year.
It's the death of a great tradition.