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>> Full of hot air in Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

Hot-air ballooning is the most Zen of the extreme sports. Extreme in that, despite its leisurely, almost meditative pace, one is hundreds if not thousands of feet above the ground, with only a firm grip on the rim of the basket preventing a lethal, cranium-bursting tumble.

It's best not to look at it that way, though. My first time up, I was in that vertiginous headspace for the first five or 10 minutes, clinging to the padded cables like a marmoset, whimpering like a whipped dog. Then my inner Lee Marvin backhanded the wuss-bug outta me, telling me to relax, smile and accept my altitude.

That's when I began to recognize what a thrilling, yet deeply calming, experience ballooning is. Why Daniel Perrault, our host and pilot of the Zéphyr, is so passionately attached to his hobby. A federal government employee during the week, Perrault has invested thousands of dollars and every free moment to the glorious pursuit of getting air.

Gonna take you high-yuh

The fascinating thing about ballooning, as Perrault puts it, is that "you can take off from the same spot every time and never land in the same place twice."

Take-off, and by the same token landing, is a disciplined and physically demanding endeavour requiring a team of at least five. Once airborne, though, one's flight path is entirely at the whim of the wind. It's a game of chance that pays off every time.

A ninja master of the old lick-the-finger trick, Perrault applies his meteorological savvy to catching currents and deeking nasty updrafts. But even with a good gust at your back, your km/h remains squarely in the single-digit range--in fact, we caught a red light at a thousand feet over lovely Mont St-Hilaire, hanging on standby for a good 10 minutes while mother nature caught her breath.

That leisurely pace is what makes a balloon ride such a satisfying experience. One can peer down on individual farms, studying the activities there as though through a microscope, chuckling at the creeped-out livestock or, at 300 feet, conversing with the "little people" below.

One can make mental relief maps of the region, or just enjoy the abstract interplay of rectangular planes of varied green tones, bisected by chaotic rivers and woodland. It's nothing short of breathtaking, and at 2,500 feet, the oxygen hasn't even thinned yet.

It's actually only at five to 10 feet from the ground that you really start peeling, which is what makes landing such a battle. That, and finding a fallow patch on your flight path before the propane runs out. You're likely find yourself busting a "touch-and-go" on some farmer's whatever-patch, swinging in low enough to hack a deep swath in his crop. It should be noted here that the area's farmers seem to have made peace with the notion of bug-eyed balloonists depositing these 10-storey monstrosities in their backyards. Still, I noted that our ground crew made a point of toting a bottle of champagne around, in case a peace offering was in order.

Zeppelin zoo

Our ride was considerately underwritten by l'International de Mongolfières de Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, the annual, week-long balloon festival that happens only a half-hour drive to the south of Montreal. Now in its 18th year, the festival boasts live concerts (Jean Leloup, Stefie Shock, Projet Orange and others are on the bill), mini-golf, fair rides, craft stalls, a petting zoo and all that stuff.

Then there's the balloons themselves, a hundred-odd behemoths of reinforced nylon, steel cable and sturdy wicker hailing from Quebec, Canada, the States, Europe and even Brazil, shaped like cats, cakes and clowns, snowmen, turkeys and pink elephants. Even the standard bulb-shaped balloons are an eyeful in their polychromatic splendour, shown to best effect at the "night glows," when the balloons are lit up inside like Chinese lanterns to the strains of classical music.

All of which is enjoyed with feet planted on terra firma. If you're prepared to drop $120-150, you can do this thing up right, spending 45 minutes aloft in one of the many balloons on the site. Scarf, goggles and handlebar moustache are optional. Equal parts backbone and childlike wonder are not.

L'International de Montgolfières de Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu runs from Saturday, Aug. 11 to Sunday, Aug. 19 at l'Aéroport Municipale (Highway 10, exit 22), from noon on weekends and 3:30pm on weekdays. Tickets are $12 for adults, $6 for kids. Night Glows happen Tuesday to Thursday, Aug. 14-16, at 8:30pm. Morning balloon flights (6am) are $120, evening flights (6pm) are $150, reservations and info are at (450) 347-9555 or visit www.montgolfieres.com