On July 9, 2007, Kent Couch flew his lawn chair for nine hours in Oregon, heading for the Idaho border. Now, I don't know if "Couch" is really his name, but it got picked up that way by the Associated Press. Had he landed in Idaho, maybe he would have nicknamed his flight the "Couch- Potato Express." Then again, maybe not.
Kent Couch grabbed some snacks, a GPS device, 20 gallons of water and a parachute, tied down 105 large helium balloons to his lawn chair, and launched into the sky in Bend, Oregon. He traveled 193 miles before gently landing, aided by gradual release of water from spigots in his water ballast.
This was not the first time man has flown by lawn chair alone. In 1982, an airline pilot from Delta radioed the control tower that he had just passed a guy who was shivering in a lawn chair, lifted by balloons. They were at 16,000 feet. Three miles up. The man, Larry Walters, used a BB pistol to pop his balloons for descent. However, he accidentally dropped the pistol before completing his mission. (Imagine the four-letter words that flashed in his mind just then. "Darn" for one. "Oops" for another.) He managed nevertheless to crash land into a set of power lines. What's interesting about this story is that few news clippings found it noteworthy to inquire how he survived that landing. (Plastic tethers on the power lines.)
I bring this up as a public service. Many of you out there are trying to solve the problem of global warming at a "grass roots" level. A ton of carbon dioxide is spewed into our air every 4,000 air passenger miles. Some of you no doubt have seized upon lawn chair ballooning as the solution, as you tinker into the night in your garage. Maybe you'll earn 18 bizillion dollars in royalties off your patented invention, if it really takes off. But just remember this: the real money will come not from how you fly the thing; it will come from how you land it.