By Daniel Hartill,Staff Writer

LEWISTON – Floating 75 feet above the Androscoggin River, Mike Martin hung an arm out of the balloon’s basket and reached down.

He drew back a clump of leaves, some of the topmost leaves from an oak, and handed them to his wife, Nell.

“A bouquet for you,” Mike said. Nell gasped. And the rainbow-colored Gone with the Wind rose higher.

“We are a UFO,” Nell said. “An unbelievable flying object.”

The balloon, piloted by New Yorker Ken Krieger, was the last of more than two dozen to launch during Friday morning’s kickoff of the 13th annual Great Falls Balloon Festival. Each balloon lifted off to applause.

“This is why it’s my favorite rally,” said Krieger, a balloonist for 15 years and a veteran of each of Lewiston-Auburn’s past festivals. At other balloon gatherings, few spectators turn out for morning launches. Here, hundreds attend. “Maybe it’s something in the French heritage.”

An hour earlier, when the sky was just a dark orange, people had set up lawn chairs. They ate pancakes under a tent as the first balloonists drove onto the grass at Railroad Park and began rolling out the silk balloons and the wicker baskets.

Mike and Nell Martin of Litchfield had come just to watch. Nell, who works at L.L. Bean, took the day off. Mike, a therapist, made no morning appointments. They listened to the patriotic music as the first balloons slowly inflated. And they began wondering if they, too, could take a ride.

They mused about not having wills and told themselves nothing would happen. Then, they bought their tickets: $200 each. They used money they’d saved for plants and shrubs.

“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing,” said Nell, who hopped in place as she watched the balloon inflate. “We’re over 50 and we’re almost newlyweds.”

Mike, 56 and Nell, 52, married three years ago.

“Just like Muhammad Ali, we’ll float like a butterfly,” said Mike as he squeezed his wife’s hand.

They watched as the other balloons floated away. Then, they climbed into the basket beside Krieger.

Once aboard, the sound alternated between near-silence and the blast of the burner, which heated the air in the balloon with a tall, orange flame.

“These are ideal conditions,” Krieger said. “Perfect.” It was cool and clear, and there was a gentle breeze.

For a moment, the balloon seemed to hop in place. Then, with a long blast, it lifted off.

“Wow,” said Nell, her mouth falling open.

The balloon crossed the river, drifting over New Auburn and following the path of the Little Androscoggin River.

“People aren’t going to believe this,” said Nell, as she began wondering aloud what her friends would say. She chastised herself for leaving her camera at home.

“Never mind that,” Krieger told her. “Be here now.”

Nell gazed at the ground, where backyards and swimming pools sprawled for miles. She pointed out running dogs and hidden gardens as the balloon floated past New Auburn and approached the industrial center beyond Washington Street.

“This could be addictive,” she said.

Still miles away, Krieger targeted the Auburn-Lewiston Municipal Airport as the destination.

Balloons steer by picking their wind, climbing or falling to catch the various currents. On this flight, Krieger learned he could head west by riding the upper winds and southwest by descending. He hoped to alternate between them.

“We’re like a sailboat that’s tacking in the wind,” Krieger said.

Slowly, the balloon approached the small airport. Already, a balloon resembling the Statue of Liberty’s head had landed there. The destination seemed appropriate.

“After all, we’re an aircraft, too,” said Krieger.

As Krieger began the final descent, he repeated an earlier warning.

“When we land, hold on in two places and bend your knees like shock absorbers,” he said. A moment later, the balloon touched down as softly as an elevator reaching the ground floor.