When I signed up for a writing workshop at Ghost Ranch, I figured my flying would be limited to the air space between Iowa and New Mexico. I didn’t expect to end up hovering several thousand feet above the firmament in Albuquerque. But over the summer, as I started researching fun places to revisit after ten years away from this orangey-green promised land -- New Mexico is my second favorite state after Massachusetts -- I realized the workshop ending overlapped with ABQ’s International Balloon Fiesta, and behold, a seed was planted. Within a few days, my head went from why on earth would any sane human being want to fly in a balloon to “Why not?”
That’s the back-of-the-matchbook version of how last week I ended up in a wicker basket three thousand feet above the Rio Grande.
Back on flat, much lower land now, and still in process of trying to put all the beauty into words. Not sure those words will come in a manner that fully expresses all I experienced. For me, untangling this knot of thoughts isn’t easy. Consider this nuts-and-bolts how-to a start.
The Albuquerque Internation Balloon Festival is a week and a half celebration that takes place every October. Next year’s event is scheduled for October 2-10, 2027. If you get a chance, you should go. New Mexico is magic -- truly a land of enchantment, and a balloon ride through the famous Albuquerque box, a breezy, verdant valley of farms and neighborhoods hugged by the sun-kissed Sandia Peaks, is the proverbial icing on the cake, the cherry on the sundae, the salt on the marguerita glass, the guac on the enchilada.
Here are some suggestions to help you defy gravity and have fun while doing it.
Make travel plans early. We started planning in July. This is too late if you hope to fly during the Fiesta. Every Fiesta balloon flight was already booked. Lucky for us, even though we were unable to book a flight during the Fiesta, there were plenty of openings right after it ended. We had no problem booking a flight for the day after.
By July, hotels were packed. We lucked out, getting the last available room in one of the hotels close to the park.
Why choose a hotel close to the festival park? Online forums agreed that traffic near the festival is a hassle, and the festival website, which did offer paid parking, recommended taking shuttles. Our hotel was a mile from the park and offered a paid festival shuttle. This seemed like a great way to avoid parking and travel hassles. We took the shuttle to the Fiesta on the last day. The next day, the day we flew, we had no problem driving to the balloon site and finding parking.
Prepare to overpay. Airplane tickets, car rentals, hotels, and balloon flight prices are jacked up during the festival. I was in the mood for a road trip anyhow, so once I saw how high the prices were, I arranged to fly into Denver five hours north, which had great deals on air travel and car rentals, and drove down through Taos, a favorite. This made sense for me, given I was headed to Ghost Ranch first for several days.
Though we each paid about $50 less for our balloon flight because we went up the day after the festival ended, our purchase prices were still a bit inflated -- ha ha, compared to costs a week or so after the Fiesta.
Rainbow Ryders is the official balloon ride company. You can book on their website or over the phone. They were great about answering questions and communicating info on what to expect.
Despite your best planning, your flight might not happen. We attended the balloon festival on the final day, arriving at dawn, expecting to take lots of pictures while we reveled in the awesome sight of hundreds of multi-colored balloons filling Albuquerque’s brilliant azure sky. Unfortunately, officials had to cancel that last mass ascension. Though the weather on the ground was fine and the light breeze quite refreshing, that final, humongous celebration of flight that visitors from multitudes of states and from countries all over the world had been looking forward to all week was shut down due to unsafe cross currents far above our heads that most of us weren’t even aware of.
I expected our flight the following morning to be canceled because it was breezier than the day before. Nope. Our flight went off as scheduled, no problem. Those mysterious cross currents were fine that day.
Check in started at 6 am. Rainbow Ryders sent detailed info on parking, so arrival was easy. We had to bring our confirmation – a screen shot was fine – and had to sign paperwork releasing the company from any liability for injury. Standard stuff. Once that paperwork was complete – it took five minutes at most, we were given a code and told to find the sign in the field across the lane that matched. A few minutes later, we were in line with about ten other people, our balloon partners, our ride or dies for the morning.
The air was cool – in the 50s or so. We’d been advised to dress in layers and bring water if we wanted. There was no other water available. We were allowed to bring small bags, but I opted not to carry anything. I wore clothing with lots of pockets: jeans, a fleece top, and an anorak over that. I had plenty of room for a water bottle, car keys, cell phone. I wanted my hands free for taking pictures or for grabbing onto my fellow travelers as we plunged to our deaths. Only partly kidding there. I had no idea what to expect.
Once we were all gathered, around 6:45, we followed Matt, a police officer in a local town who worked part-time for Rainbow Ryders. Matt and another young gent were the set-up guys. It was still dark as we followed them from the brightly lit field next to the RR kiosk and headed to the ascension area, an expansive field abuzz with the sounds of talk, laughter, engines. Though the official Fiesta was over, there were 25 to 30 balloons going up that morning, which meant about 300 people in total were meandering around the field. While Matt and the others commenced the grunt work involved in getting our balloons inflated, we had time to wander, talk to our fellow travel mates, take pictures.
By 7:45, the sun was rising and so were the balloons. The scenery was surreal and the atmosphere celebratory. We peanut-sized humans were surrounded on all sides by giant, puffy bags of air, in every color of the rainbow. Soon we started loading into the baskets – called gondolas, that would be our home for the next hour or so.
I was surprised at the length and height of the gondolas. I was imagining that there’d be maybe four of us in each basket, but our basket easily held ten guests, five per side, plus the pilot. I expected that there’d be an entry gate on the basket but that was not the case. The sides were mostly solid. Matt guided us up a small step stool, instructed us to put our feet into ladder-like openings in one side of the basket, then supported us as we stepped over the padded railing onto the basket floor. Even for someone as short as I am, the process was simple.
Our pilot Alfred, a quiet dude who joked that it was his first flight then admitted he’d been doing this for almost two decades, gave some very brief instructions on how to position our bodies for take-off and landing. Easy stuff. Then he turned his back on us, adjusted the propane flame, pulled on some cables, and before we knew it, we were several feet off the ground. It was that easy. No swaying, no bumps, no scary screeching from me or from any machinery. One minute we were on dirt and the next we were rising.
By now it was 8 am.
I thought I’d be afraid, but I wasn’t. I thought I wouldn’t want to look down. But I did. Everything was so calm, so peaceful. The sun rose gently and so did we. As the light shifted, so did our view. We saw every color. The grays of the distant peaks gave way to blues then pinks, oranges, reds, yellows and every combination in between. Cotton candy clouds scudded past. Around us, our fellow ballooners rose, dropped, danced, all of us in slow motion, guided by the shifting breezes and the quiet expertise of our pilots.
We meandered north for the most part, sometimes following Route 25 or country roads, always with the Rio Grande either in perfect sight or peek-a-booing beneath scrubby sagebrush and creosote, golden-leafed cottonwoods, and the occasional piney glen.
We crossed over neighborhoods where horses stared, dogs barked, people stopped, looked up, waved, and we waved back. We saw coyotes running through woods, and cows doing their cow thing in grassy fields. Our pilot Alfred occasionally pointed out white crosses painted on backyard lawns. Potential landing spots, he explained. This surprised me because I thought we’d be landing in some sort of official balloon landing area, replete with bleachers and loudspeakers.
While we flew, Matt and his helper, both now acting as ground crew, tracked us below. Every single one of the 25 to 30 balloons that rose and fell with us also had a dedicated ground crew, each driving a dedicated van. Our pilot used a walkie talkie to communicate with them and other folks on the ground and in the sky.
Forty-five minutes into our trip, Alfred began looking for places to land. To decelerate in preparation, he let the balloon skim the tops of trees. While I couldn't feel a thing, I could hear the branches scrape the gondola bottom. For some reason, this made me laugh. Alfred had his pick of locales. There were plenty of fields available, and lots of friendly folks waved their arms, encouraging him to pick their property or road.
We ended up landing softly and without any bumping or yelling whatsoever on a quiet neighborhood street in the town of Corrales, just northwest of Alburquerque. Matt and his van were already set up and waiting for us just a couple of feet away, along with a police officer who temporarily secured the area and redirected traffic which was minimal, two cars tops.
We stayed in the gondola as the balloon deflated around us. Within seconds after, we were escorted out of the basket and onto the road. Again, this was easy and not awkward at all, even for a shorty like me. While Matt and company proceeded to pack up the balloon, Alfred set up a table, poured some orange juice and champagne and we raised a glass to the beautiful morning and our glorious adventure. Some of us, ahem, raised more than one glass.
A few minutes later we were all in the van and too soon after, we were back at our car. It was so much fun. I hope one day I get to do this again.
Here are some relevant websites, for anyone interested:
www.balloonfiesta.com Official Balloon Fiesta website
www.rainbowryders.com Official Hot Air Balloon company website
www.cabq.gov City of Albuquerque website
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