Right, so you wanna know about that high-altitude balloon flight. It wasn’t just a weekend thing, let me tell you. It started, like many of these things do, with a “what if?” Me and a couple of mates, we were just kicking around ideas, and someone mentioned sending something to the edge of space. Seemed nuts at first, but the idea stuck.
Getting Started – The Dream and The Grind
First off, we had to figure out what we were even doing. This wasn’t like flying a kite, you know. We spent weeks, maybe months, just reading. What kind of balloon? How much helium? What about a camera? And the big one – how do we get it back?
We decided on a basic setup:
- A weather balloon, one of those big latex ones.
- A payload box – we built this ourselves from styrofoam to keep things light and insulated.
- A GPS tracker. This was non-negotiable. We actually bought two, just in case one decided to conk out.
- A couple of small cameras. We weren’t aiming for Hollywood quality, just something to prove we did it.
- And a parachute, obviously. Didn’t want our box turning into a missile on the way down.
Getting all the bits and pieces together took ages. And money, more than we initially thought. The helium alone was a bit of a shocker. Then there was the paperwork. You can’t just send stuff up willy-nilly. We had to check aviation regulations, let the local air traffic control know. That was a whole learning curve in itself. I remember spending a whole afternoon on the phone, getting bounced from one department to another. Frustrating, but necessary.
Building and Testing – Lots of “Oops” Moments
Building the payload was fun, though. Lots of duct tape and hope. We tested the GPS trackers by driving around, leaving one in a field and trying to find it. Good thing we did, because the first tracker we bought was rubbish. Kept losing signal. Imagine if we’d used that one for the actual flight! Total loss, right there.
We also did a bunch of calculations for ascent rate, burst altitude, all that. Most of it was just guesswork based on what others had done online, if I’m being honest. We weren’t rocket scientists, just enthusiasts who were good at Googling.
Launch Day – Nerves and Helium
Launch day finally came. We picked a clear morning, very early. The wind was calm, which was a relief. Filling that balloon was a sight. It just got bigger and bigger, pulling upwards like it couldn’t wait to go. My hands were actually shaking a bit when we were attaching the payload. So much could go wrong.
And then, we just… let go. It shot up, surprisingly fast. We just stood there, watching it get smaller and smaller until it was just a speck. Then, nothing. It was a weird feeling, a mix of excitement and “oh god, what have we done?”
The Waiting Game and The Chase
Then came the tracking. We huddled around a laptop, watching the little dot climb. It was agonizingly slow, but also amazing to see the altitude numbers tick up. We hit some serious height, way higher than any commercial plane. We were aiming for the “highest” we could possibly get with our setup.
The signal for the primary GPS got a bit sketchy as it got super high, which caused a minor panic. But the backup kicked in, or the primary came back, I don’t quite remember the exact sequence, but we got data again. The burst happened, right around where our crude calculations said it would. And then it started coming down, fast.
The chase was on! We piled into the car, following the GPS signal. This is where things always get messy. Our balloon, of course, didn’t decide to land in a nice, easy-to-reach park. Oh no. It headed for some dense farmland, miles from any proper road. We ended up parking the car and hiking. I remember wading through what felt like a never-ending field of something tall and scratchy. My mate, Dave, lost a shoe in the mud at one point. Good times.
Recovery and The “Wow” Moment
But we found it! The parachute had done its job, and the payload box was sitting there, a bit battered, but intact. The relief was immense. Like, physically, you could feel the tension just drain away.
Getting home and checking the footage was the real prize. Seeing those shots of the black sky above and the curvature of the Earth below… man, that was something else. Even though the cameras weren’t top-of-the-line, the view was just breathtaking. We actually did it. Our little homemade project had touched the edge of space.
It wasn’t the absolute highest anyone’s ever been, not by a long shot if you look at professional or government stuff. But for us, a bunch of amateurs working out of a garage with more enthusiasm than expertise, it felt like we’d conquered Everest. We spent more time and effort on this than I’d care to admit, especially with all the trial and error. My partner was convinced I was having an affair with a weather balloon for a while there, given how much time I was spending on it. But seeing those pictures, yeah, totally worth it. Every single frustrating, muddy, expensive moment.