Naked & Famous
A botched hot air balloon proposal turns intoxicating
By Terry Carp Brackle
ZACATECAS, Mexico • 1878 — Ana Ignacia Rodríguez could not recall ever being more terrified. For the previous 20 minutes, wearing only her shoes, she had floated peacefully above confused farmers, cattle ranchers, and villagers in the basket of a hot air balloon.
The balloon ride was not supposed to have been like this. It was supposed to have been romantic—possibly the occasion of her engagement to Francisco Javier de Anza. And she was supposed to have been clothed. Beautifully clothed, in fact, in a dress she’d bought in case Francisco was taking her up into the clouds to propose. She was supposed to have been enjoying the view from the heavens, not trembling in a fetal position at the bottom of a basket with her eyes crunched tight.
How high up was she? Would a sudden gust of wind upturn the basket and toss her out, hurtling her back down toward the land her father and grandfather had farmed? Would birds think she’s one of them? Ana decided she needed to know whether she was about to be in the clouds. She grabbed the edge of the basket, hauled herself up, looked down, opened her eyes, and saw more than a dozen children running behind the balloon, just 40 feet below. When they saw her, naked, they screamed. She screamed.
Naked & Famous
¾ oz mezcal
¾ oz Aperol
¾ oz yellow Chartreuse
¾ oz lime juice
Shake all ingredients with ice • Strain into a cocktail glass
Ana slunk down to the bottom of the basket, where she felt more relaxed. She was in less danger than she’d imagined and was floating along on a gentle breeze. She remembered that the balloon’s takeoff, while sudden, had also been smooth. Francisco had walked her into the balloon basket, set out some distance from his family’s manor at Hacienda Vetagrande, and told her to hold on tight to the edge.
But as he stepped out to untie the tethering ropes, he stumbled. Falling to the ground, Francisco let go of the ropes and let out a very unsexy squeak, or perhaps it was a squeal. He was lying on the lawn, furiously pointing behind Ana and squealing, but before she could turn around, the branch of an old oak reached out and snagged her new dress, as if shopping for its own night out. The balloon, caring nothing for a 19-year-old woman’s modesty, obeyed the breeze and kept going.
Ana had shouted for Francisco’s help from an increasing distance, but he’d remained curled up on the grass of his family’s estate. The squealing confirmed what Ana had felt, if she was honest with herself, since meeting Francisco: that he was a feeble, uncaring gallina. A pathetic chicken. But Francisco was also the heir of the wealthiest silver mining family in central Mexico and Ana’s parents had engineered their courtship, hoping for a marriage that would take care of the Rodríguez family for a long time.
Since leaving Francisco bleating in the grass, Ana had floated northwest of Hacienda Vetagrande and the balloon had attracted a crowd in Morelos, though no one knew a person was inside the basket. The group of running children that had seen her pop up from the basket had somehow conveyed to the villagers in Rancho los Nogales that a naked flying woman was approaching their town.
She heard the large crowd of Nogalens in the distance. As she peeked over the side of the basket, Ana saw dozens of people whistling, hooting, and waving their arms in the air. As she got closer, some threw ropes towards the basket, hoping to help her come back to Earth. She saw they were smiling and laughing. Some were singing, delighted with such an odd sight on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
As the balloon peacefully floated away from Rancho los Nogales, it continued in a northwesterly direction toward the village of Victor Rosales. Ana was surprised to find she’d enjoyed making the Nogalens happy and she began to relax. She looked around the inside of the basket for the first time, observing the care with which it was woven. She also noticed a bar cart affixed to one side. By now there were more than 100 people running after her balloon, and others were joining the crowd downwind. She decided to enjoy the ride.
Ana wasn’t sure how to make a drink, so she decided to mix liquid from four of the bottles on the bar cart evenly in a glass. She chose a clear liquid that smelled a bit smoky, a tart green juice, something from a pretty red bottle, and finally a yellow liquor with a French label. She stirred the concoction up with some ice and tasted it. And then she downed the rest and made another.
After the second drink, Ana decided to stand up straight and acknowledge her audience. Someone below had discovered who she was, and the enormous crowd gathered in Victor Rosales was chanting her name as she waved to her fans below. She had been in the air for nearly an hour, and as she blew past Victor Rosales, she could feel the wind dying a bit. The smooth flight of the balloon wavered. By now hundreds of people were following her flight path towards El Rayito.
Ana could feel her adventure coming to an end, so she fixed herself another drink and calmly prepared to die. Or at least suffer broken limbs. Just outside of El Rayito, the wind finally rested and Ana’s balloon came crashing down as the huge crowd scrambled to get out of its way.
The people of El Rayito still talk about that day. It is commemorated by a statue in the plaza and a plaque at the town hall. The great-great-grandchildren of those there that day proudly tell how their ancestors saw Ana Ignacia Rodríguez emerge from the wreckage, wrapped in the balloon’s canvas material, a full cocktail in one hand while signing autographs with the other.
Editor’s Note: Fact-based cocktail historians claim the Naked & Famous was created by Joaquín Simó at Death & Co. in New York in 2011
SOURCES:
Gretel W. Hansel, Flying Free: The Liberation of Women Balloonists From Their Clothing (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1994)
Frena Jupiter Monsoon, Important Figures in Naked Women History (New York: Pear Shaped Press, 1964) p. 76-78
Kiesha Yath, Chingonas: The Women Who Inspired Villa, Zapata and the Mexican Revolution, trans. Marysue Ellen Prager (San Antonio: Tres Leches and Company, 2010) p. 156-178
Contributors Notes:
Born in 1984 to Wanda Brackle and someone, Terry Carp Brackle is revered as a preeminent metafolklore/tall tale novelist whose literary career has spanned more than one decade. Brackle’s work — including Can’t Totally Hear You That Great (2012), Raking Leaves, Lester Grieves (2016) and Here’s a Cruller, Eat It Up (2019) — has been called “hard to find in bookstores, on the internet, in antique stores or at Dollar General.”
Next week: Brown Derby • Squabbling 19th-century scientists drink to our lizard fathers