Legacy

Good morning students, I’m Professor Peter Riobet; please, no snickering, that’s Riobet, not Rabbit.  I get kidded too much as it is.  Anyway I’m new here at Woulfer University, and you are the students who are studying Mythology.  I got my PHD in Mythology because I’ve always had an intense interest in Myths.  I have always held the opinion that while most Myths are greatly embellished or exaggerated from actual fact.  That there is a grain of truth or substance to most of them.

Like the fictional Indiana Jones, I too like to spend my summers on field trips, digs, and investigative efforts into myths. I will now share the unbelievable results of last summer’s efforts.

I said I’d long been fascinated by the myth legend of flying carpets.  About that time some wisenheimer heckled me and made a crack “hey prof, what you got against Genies in a bottle?”  I ask that young man if he’d like to try again next semester?  That shut him up.

I continued to relate to the students that I’d been aware of flying carpet myths from several different cultures, including Persian, Babylonian, an ancient India.  I learned from many old writings that flying carpets were used only by Caliphs, Magicians, and other assorted individuals of importance or alleged powers.  I also learned that carpet flight was of short durations for limited distance.

Now that was an important piece of information; because such limitations certainly took away the idea of magic, but indicated there might have been something that got described as a carpet.  In those times there were no modern words for description of some things, so they used what words they could.

I spent weeks in various parts of the Middle East trying to locate remnant or a relic that someone might label as a once flying carpet that I could examine.  Needless to say, no luck, just a lot of stares and mumbled whispered remarks about the crazy old man.  That of course did nothing towards brightening my day.

As I said I was having a carpet fixation, and in passing time I looked at some beautiful hand woven Persian rugs while I was in Bagdad.  The rug dealer was a transplant so to speak from India.  Now native East Indians, still to this day take all of the old Sanskrit texts at face value.  They cover a lot more than I was focused on; but we struck up a conversation.

He didn’t think the subject of flying carpets was funny, he and his people had always taken their one time existence as fact. He went on to say that while he’d never personally seen one, he’d heard the remnants of one was held in high reverence and kept at the Temple of Hu Wan  deep in the remote reaches of Northern India.

That got my juices boiling and even though it was probably grasping at straws; I knew I had to visit that temple.  So it was off to India. Getting to that temple was no easy task.  There were no roads for the last one hundred miles.  Fortunately at that point I was able to engage some Mahouts and their elephants to transport me and my supplies that last one hundred miles.

Of course the elephants weren’t speed demons, so it took several days to arrive at The Temple of Hu Wan. But I didn’t mind as it was tiger country, and atop an elephant was the safest place to be.  As the temple came into view I could hardly contain my excitement.

I was cordially welcomed by the Hindu Priests, who were more than happy to show me the carpet.  I was happier than they for the privilege of seeing it.

There it was in all its glory, mounted/hung on the temple wall.  I was allowed to examine it closely. Much to my surprise I found a beautiful well preserved carpet that was at least two thousand years old.  However as I looked closely I could see that it was a little more than just a carpet.

It was laid on like a very flat basket with no sides.  The material was light but thick and strong, a lot like the gondola material on modern day hot air balloons.  But it wasn’t a gondola in any classic sense.  It had heavy loops on each corner as a rope might be fastened to.  It also had smaller loops two on each side that resembled oar locks.  I concluded that was what they were as there was an oar like thing superimposed over the carpet.

Close examination disclosed it was a most clever device inasmuch as it was hinged in the center of the very large paddle blade portion so that wind drag would fold it in one direction so not to catch the air; and the other direction it would open to catch the air.  Crude, but four of them would allow for paddling through air somewhat like through water. Amazing.  Its dimensions were about eight by ten feet.  Could possibly hold two rowers and two passengers if there was a sufficient lift to get it off the ground.

How that might have been accomplished then, we will never no for sure; but the fact it was reputed that they would only fly a limited time for limited distance was a clue.  Yes, we still ruled out magic.  I came back home with a design plan to try.  If it worked, we could then make the supposition to that being how they did it two thousand years ago.  But still no guarantee that our way was their way.

Now in France in the 1800’s when ballooning was just getting started.  It was sort of an exhibitionists  toy.  A hot air balloon with a gondola that would hold two was filled with hot air from a big fire beneath a platform cut out for the heat to rise through.  Then the operator and one paying passenger would go as high as 500 feet and a distance of a half to one mile depending on the wind before slowly settling back to earth as the heat dissipated.

Well with the help of volunteers our device was ready to test.  We even put a piece of carpet on the woven platform for authenticity and flavor.  We figured the ancients had no more way of carrying heat with them than did the early French.  We also duplicated those ingenious air oars.

Then with some more gutsy volunteers, the maiden flight would be attempted.  Four daring souls including myself fired up the balloon, got on board and released the ropes.  It was a great success.  We made about two hundred feet and rowed ourselves  almost a mile before gently settling back to earth.

The heckler was still with us and couldn’t keep his mouth shut.  This time he said “hey prof, do you also have a PHD in creative writing?” I replied no I don’t, but if you doubt my veracity, be behind the Field House at four this afternoon and I will give you a ride.  Suddenly a lot of quiet and I said Class dismissed

I was at the Field House at the appointed time, but the  heckler was a no show.  I concluded he had more mouth than guts.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.