Having worn out our welcome in Carlsbad, we left Brantley State Park and motored north about 70 miles to Roswell to visit the UFO museum. Ah, America. When
we arrived we found the main street blocked off and a parade underway to celebrate the opening of the Eastern NM State Fair. Well, we couldn’t miss that so we pulled into a grocery store parking lot and watched the parade in all its small town glory. Love this stuff. We located an RV park close to the fairgrounds and elected to walk to the fair instead of scooting. Hmmm. Could have sworn it was closer on the map. Almost two miles, which wasn’t so bad in the twilight going over, but was an adventure in the pitch-black countryside at night. Did I mention before that drinking and driving is a New Mexican pastime? We got way off the road and walked in a ditch (dry). The fair was your typical agricultural community affair, with animal judging (we watched the goats, and were amazed the judge could detect differences in what appeared to be generic animals), baked goods, crafts, thrill rides, an old-time midway with (gasp) two-headed animals, and all the kettle corn, funnel cakes, and fried twinkies (and other things) you could want. Brought back memories of the county fairs we
had in the Central Valley, and was all good. We saved the UFO museum for the next day. If you’re here anyway, it’s a must see, but otherwise it’s a humorous aside the lack of which won’t diminish your life. They actually try to play it straight, giving both sides of the “story.” When all is said and done, we all know the government couldn’t keep such a thing secret for all these years, but you have to wonder just what they WERE trying to cover up. We next headed west on I-70 and climbed into the mountains through Ruidoso, home of the famed quarterhorse track, and which has to be the longest, skinniest town we’ve ever been through. It goes for miles along one road, and not more than a block to either side. Definitely tourist oriented, with scads of shops and restaurants.
We went on a little higher to the appropriately named town of Alto and spent the night in one of the nicest commercial parks we’ve seen. Beautiful grounds and surroundings, and even had working wifi, so we caught up on emails although I didn’t get anything posted to the blog. Great hot showers and a laundry, both of which we took advantage of. Because we want to conserve our water and propane, and because it gets a little chilly in the rig in the mornings, we mostly do sponge baths with the occasional full-blown shower, but take advantage of the local facilities whenever available. Surprisingly, many of the state parks in AZ and NM offer hot showers. Too bad CA is so screwed up.Our next stop was to be a gathering of the Southwest Lazy Daze group at Manzano State Park in the Manzano Mountains south of Albuquerque. We decided to take the
back roads, so after descending onto the plains we took US54 north to SR55, the latter of which zigzag across the terrain. Two lanes, no shoulder, nothing but range land all around. We saw herds of antelope along the way, and not a single car for the first 30 minutes. Ford, don’t fail me now! The last quarter mile to the Manzano park, unfortunately, was dirt, and the dust we kicked up coated everything, especially the scooter, even though it was covered. The bottom is still open and the dust just swirls up and 
coats it. The park is up in the pines elevation, quite nice and dead quiet at night. There were 11 other LD rigs there, and we met some very nice folks from all over (Florida to San Diego). Like us, the distant travelers were just passing through on the way to ABQ. Had a nice pot luck dinner, which I dragged my camera out for, set it down on the ground while eating, and promptly . . . yup, forgot it. We left the next morning (Thursday), after dumping tanks and filling with water as we would be staying in a field for the balloon fest. We navigated ABQ traffic ok, with no thanks to the signage. My only gripe about NM is that it is horribly signed. There’s a lot of guessing about what street you’re encountering (or passing). On arrival, we were met by ten or so early LD arrivals and settled in. The parking is just a huge dirt field with nary a blade of grass in sight. By the middle of the week, it was filled with thousands of RVs of all shapes and sizes, and a few hearty souls in tents. We got primo location, close to the entrance, and spaces for the 34 LD rigs that had signed up. After leveling up the front, we went out and communed with the others, including the amazing Texan, Tessa, and her three kids. She and the kids took off in their LD, “Ciao Baby”, at the beginning of the summer, and have traveled all over the West, hitting every national park and monument from Texas to Alaska, and were on their way back home for a brief break before continuing on through Central America to Panama. Dear Dad stays home and makes the wherewithal to finance this adventure. The kids are home schooled, display maturity well beyond their years, and manners that leave you shaking your head in admiration. After Panama, they will ship the LD to Europe where they will tour all around before storing it there as their future European pied-a-terre. From there they will fly to China before returning home. Wow. My family went to the seashore. Friday we set off to sign up on a chase crew. The cognoscenti told us that you only had to work it once, but that earned you a pass to all of the events for the entire week. Since each entry costs $6 , and there were morning and evening events, this is a great deal. We went to the registration, told them which day we wanted to work, and they assign you to a pilot who has need of crew that day. Volunteer crew are important as it takes a certain number of bodies to launch and retrieve, and with nearly 700 balloons lifting off in the space of an hour, that’s a lot of manpower needed. We got assigned to “Flying Colors” out of Colorado, piloted by Marv McKinny. We got our free passes, watched a 30 minute video on what not to do (no nylon clothes as they can set off a spark, don’t cut any range fences to get to the balloon, never stand in front of the basket when it is taking off, etc.), and pronounced ourselves ready to commit mayhem. Next we hit the Anderson (Maxie)-Abruso (Ben) Albuquerque International Balloon Museum, which is another must-see. The history of ballooning from the Montgolfiers to the namesake guys, and utterly fascinating. Great docents with interesting stories and very nicely done displays and artifacts. Our appetites were whetted for the big show, the first mass ascension set for Saturday morning. But first, the other appetite was sated by another potluck that evening. I will say that the LDers put on a good spread wherever they are.
All balloon ascensions are made when the
winds are non-existent or light, generally not to exceed 10mph. For the Fiesta, that means EARLY morning. Although we weren’t scheduled to crew until Monday, we wanted to see how it was done so we got up at 0-dark 30 (I think that’s 4:30) to have breakfast, dress in about nine layers, and walk to the staging area. 
Even at that hour the traffic was pouring into the parking area. The forecast for Sunday the next ascension) was rain, so everyone local who couldn’t take off during the week wanted to be there for this liftoff. The field itself was dark, with rows of numbered cones with tiny blue lights on top to mark the areas where each balloon was to set up. We found B-6, which is where our pilot was assigned. His truck and gear were there, but no bodies. Seems like the pilot gets to go off and have breakfast and briefings while his crew stands around in the dark. He must have had experienced crew that day because we waited alone for quite awhile before they showed up. The routine is this. First you unload the big fan, then the envelope (balloon, for you novices), and finally the basket. The envelope is in a big round bag about three to four feet across and three feet high. The bottom of the envelope comes out first, and while someone holds that, the rest of the crew heft up the bag (about 300 pounds) and walk it away with the envelope trailing out. Once that is stretched out, the pilot and his crew chief start untangling the wires that connect the envelope to the basket, and get those hooked up. The basket at this time is on its side, with the top facing the envelope. The burners are then attached to the top of the harp that forms the “handle” of the basket. The baskets are all wicker as it is both strong and flexible (for those bumpy landings), as well as traditional, dating back to the Montgolfiers. Inside are three or more big propane tanks, about twice the size of dive tanks used by scubas. Once everything is attached to the basket (including instruments for altitude, envelope temperature, etc), the mouth of the envelope is held open by two crew while the big fan is wheeled up close. The fan is used for the initial inflation and puts out a hurricane of air. It is aimed into the mouth, and the envelope slowly begins to swell and straighten out. The crew scurries around pulling on the fabric to help it inflate. Once it actually looks like a balloon on its side, it’s time to light the burners and shoot flames into the mouth. At this point, the two crew who have been holding it open for the fan
lengthen their grip on the ropes so they aren’t too close to the flames. Crispy critter warning. The fan is turned off and the hot air shooting in begins to enlarge the balloon. It slowly rises to upright, being held more or less steady during the process by a crewman holding a long rope that extends from the crown of the balloon down to the ground. The bigger balloons require more than one person doing this, and if there’s a breeze it can be a challenge. Once the balloon is upright, the pilot can keep it that way by periodic bursts of flame, without lifting off. Now, imagine this taking place on a field with 600+ other balloons. The sight and sounds are incredible. Brilliant colors, huge shapes without weight, dragonbreath sounds. The field is controlled by “zebras,” men and women wearing referee outfits who determine the order and timing of each launch. When the zebra says it is ok for you to lift off, the pilot loads his passenger(s) (ours could take only one), and gives out with a long flame burst until he achieves buoyancy. The crew then hangs on to the side of the basket and walks the balloon forward while the flaming continues, and then all of a sudden it just floats up and away, pilot and passenger grinning like fools, and the crew gazing wistfully up. Although we crewed three days, we didn’t get a ride as the pilot’s sponsor showed up and his people got to go. Commercial rides were being offered at the Fiesta premium pricing of $350. Nah. I can do without.Once launched, the crew piles into the truck, with the machos in the bed and the ladies in the cab, and take off, trying to follow your balloon amongst all the
others. For the most part, that’s not too hard, as balloons are virtually all unique in their colors and patterns. Some are pretty close, but it wasn’t difficult picking our guy out. The pilot and crew chief also are in communication by radio, but they have to keep the transmissions brief because of the sheer numbers of participants and limited bandwidth. Our first chase ended before it began, as our pilot decided not to launch because of the speed and direction of the winds. As it turns out, most of the local pilots, and many of the old hands from out of state, made the same decision. The ones that did ascend took off like a shot to the southwest, which is towards ABQ proper. Not a lot of landing places down there. 
There were quite a bit of hard and distant landings. Our second shot was more successful, and the balloon took off towards the northwest. Turns out he had fun and skimmed the Rio Grande while we were trying to keep him in sight. We ended up about 8 miles away from the launch, and he came down in the wilds of Rio Rancho. We had to bounce over dirt paths and then over the desert in order to get to him. The landing was a bit rough and the basket bounced and dragged for quite a ways (we saw the gouge marks across the desert). Of course, there were the obligatory prickly pear cactus and cholla at the landing site, so we were picking those out of things for quite a while after. The packup is just the reverse of the launch procedure. After squeezing the envelope to expel the hot air, you form a chain and start stuffing it into the bag, starting with the top. The bag is lifted after each stuff and is walked up the envelope a couple of feet for the next stuff. After it’s all in, everyone sits on it to expel the last of the air before pulling the drawstrings on the bag to tie it up. The truck, fortunately, has a lift gate, so we could heft these things onto it without multiple hernias all around. Still, many hands are needed as both the bag and the basket are bulky and heavy. We then return to the launch site, set up a canopy and chairs, and break out the munchies and bubbly, talk, and watch the antics of the other crews who seem to prefer stronger drink. Our second launch was much like the first, only this time he came down in the sticks on a hillside. He kept it upright until we could reach him, and then achieved just enough buoyancy so that we could walk him down the hill to a dirt road for the deflation. This would have been easier without the aforementioned prickly pear getting underfoot. Ouch. On Friday, we opted not to crew (Marv had enough help) and instead watched the competition portion. The balloons launch from a remote site upwind of the main field and try to maneuver right over the field to do a couple of things. First, they have weighted streamers that they want to drop closest to a pin flag set in a marked circle. Second, they want to grab a key bag from the top of a thirty foot pole (there were multiple drop “greens” and five poles) as they float past. This requires low level maneuvering, and if your basket touches the ground you are disqualified. There were lots of accurate drops (well, throws in some cases) and amazingly two balloons picked off keys and three had them but dropped them. The keys fit various cars that were offered by sponsors. We were told that this is about 10% skill and 90% luck-of-the-winds, but it was a hoot to watch.
Tragedy struck the Fiesta this year as one balloon got swept into power lines. The basket exploded and both pilots were ejected at about 30 feet above ground. One was dead from his burns before the safety folks got to him, the other is still alive and expected to survive. More bad news followed as high winds and rain caused the cancellation of all flights on the final Saturday and Sunday of the event. We were very glad we got there for the whole 10 days and were able to see multiple ascensions. The late arrivals got shut out.
On Wednesday, we got the scooter in for its initial and mandatory 600 mile service
whre they take out the break-in oil, retorque everything, etc. It has performed like a champ. We do our
grocery shopping and laundry runs on it. Thursday afternoon (the 9th) we set out for the top of the Sandia Mountains behind ABQ. That’s an elevation gain of over 3,000 feet (to 8,000+) and it pulled all the way without a hitch. I did have the throttle maxed a few times, but we didn’t hold up any traffic. We were looking for the restaurant at the top of the peak, since it was Loni’s birthday, but we never found the right side road or saw any sign (thanks again, NM). We did make the crest and had a fabulous 360 degree view. However, the wind was blowing up there and it was COLD, so we packed off for ABQ and an alternate dinner site. Having been frustrated by not finding the peak restaurant, we took the recommendations of LD-ers from previous nights and went for a marguerita at Sadie’s, a long-time local favorite. Well, the drinks WERE good and large to boot, but the food was aimed more at mass quantity for your buck rather
than innovation. We had hoped for something sophisticated, but this wasn’t it. We got two HUGE chicken burritos, finished half, and took home another meal. We left at about 7:45 and got to within a mile of our campground when we were stopped by a police barricade that had just been put up (we were the first to be stopped). That's Loni sitting on the scoot with her night vest reflecting. Seems that the traffic control scheme for the night presentations at the balloon park (which we were camped directly opposite) called for a shutdown of the only road we could take to access our lot, in order that all traffic exiting the Fiesta could use all lanes as outbound lanes. The nice sheriff (and, truly, he was a very nice guy) apologized profusely but said we’d have to wait at least an hour and a half before it could open. This, truly, was the capper for Loni’s birthday. No peak restaurant, mediocre food, tired from scooting all day in the wind, and now consigned to a curb for the duration. I knew I was going to have to make up for this! We spent the time talking to the officer and listening along with him to Vin Sculley broadcast the Dodgers-Phillies game (LA lost) on a radio he had in his trunk. Seems he’s a big-time Dodger fan from the days when they had their farm team, the Dukes, in ABQ. They’ve been elsewhere for the last decade of so, but have again re-signed with ABQ, only now the team is called (are you ready?) the Isotopes, “Topes” for short. See, there’s this nuclear history in the area and, oh well. So, not quite two hours later, we are given the honor of being the first through and we motored back to collapse in bed.The night show is not a launch, but rather a light show where the inflated, but tethered balloons light off their burners and the balloons glow from inside. It’s
pretty neat, and we had seen it on a previous night. Everything is followed by a big fireworks show to cap off the evening.At the launch grounds they have a quarter mile of tents selling souvenirs, godawful food (see previous comments on the Fair) and not much else. However, I will say that the giant cinnamon buns were A-OK, and I did avail myself of the free samples of mini Spamburgers. Shameless. They also had a chainsaw woodcarving contest which I have to say produced some pretty remarkable results. They were being auctioned off for charity and the one we watched fetched $6,000 in some spirited bidding. We settled for a couple of “chase crew” pins and a balloon spinner to hang off the rig when we’re parked.
With the rain forecast, and us sitting on dirt in the midst of thousands of RV’s, all of which had to exit through one portal, we opted to bag out early and left Saturday morning for Santa Fe.
