Photo courtesy of Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta
Wake up early in Albuquerque, and you’re likely to see a spectacular sight. Hot air balloons stand out like Crayon-colored polka dots against the cerulean sky.
Never is that more true than during the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta, scheduled this year for Oct 2-10. The event, which takes place on 200 acres at the aptly named Balloon Fiesta Park, includes participants from more than 50 countries. The cluster of pendant-shaped balloons in the sky prompts even the most reluctant photographer to whip out a camera.
Nicknamed the world’s balloon capital, Albuquerque claims its title because of a “box” effect created by its wind patterns and mountain formations. Pilots can guide their craft with the winds in different directions at different altitudes, and backtrack along their original course.
You must get up by dawn to hop into a balloon basket, but you don’t need a ride to appreciate the sport. The Anderson-Abruzzo Albuquerque Balloon Museum, located on the festival grounds, details the history of ballooning. Exhibits include a Japanese balloon that carried barometer-triggered bombs during World War II to the West Coast and a parachute deployed by Victorian-era French daredevil Marie Merton to jump from balloons as high as 10,000 feet.
Photo: Jay Blackwood
Since the city ascends from 4,500 feet above sea level in the Rio Grande Valley to 6,500 feet in the Sandia Mountain foothills, it’s possible to experience a sense of soaring without taking flight. I boarded the Sandia Peak Tramway to reach the mountain’s 10,378-foot peak.
During the 15-minute ascent, the rocky landscape gave way to a valley so deep it could contain the Eiffel Tower. Up top, the 70-mile views made me feel as if I were dangling from the bottom of an airplane.
For another perspective on the area’s topography, I visited Acoma, a pueblo located an hour outside Albuquerque. Acoma, which dates to 1150 and claims to be North America’s oldest continuously occupied community, sits on a 300-foot-high mesa. With the exception of a museum and café, the Acoma “Sky City” has no running water or electricity. Ladders reach to second stories, and buildings stand shoulder-to-shoulder like solemn sentinels. I recommend bringing cash to purchase local pottery, which vendors sell on foldout tables.
I was fortunate to make my temporary home base at the more comfortable Sandia Resort & Casino. Opened in 2005, the tawny-colored buildings blend into the desert scenery. The hotel offers a 12,000-square-foot spa and a golf course that cuts a verdant swathe through the beige and sage landscape.
Photo: MarbleStreetStudio.com
Green –– as in the ever-present green chiles –– also informed most of my dining experiences. Green chiles tumbled off the bacon cheeseburger at the kitschy Route 66 Diner. They appeared in the salsa at El Pinto Restaurant, which features recipes from the owners’ grandmother. They topped the cheese fries at the retro Kellys Brew Pub. And they appeared in the burritos at the airport, where the staff will ask you, “Red or green?”
Everywhere, the scenery imparts a sense of expansiveness, especially when you are drifting in a balloon, viewing the jagged-tooth mountains and the decisive line where the city meets the pueblos. I suddenly felt open to new experiences. And isn’t that what travel is all about?
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