Up Up and Away

I haven’t been feeling myself lately. Normal life stuff, mostly – been almost sick for a couple weeks at the same time as a pretty major work situation (too much to explain, but you can google it. It’s gotten a lot of media play). The most important task in front of me at the moment is to write a eulogy for my aunt and uncle as we celebrate their lives next weekend in New Hampshire. I’ve been struggling to write it and had to get back to my normal self to do justice to these people I love so much. And when I want to get back to me, there’s only one thing I for me to do.

You’d be forgiven if you said “a percussionist,” and you wouldn’t be wrong exactly (more on that in a sec), but really, and you know this – it’s doing some kind of travel, the wackier the better. So less than a week ago, I found myself googling like mad for a quick, weekend getaway, when I discovered that there was an eclipse visible from the Pacific northwest through Texas.

I like an eclipse. A few years ago,I drove to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee with a my friend Esme and her kids to watch the eclipse totality from Smokey Mountain National Park. We even made it onto PBS’s special “Sounds of the Eclipse“. That’s me assuring Alexandra that we won’t be going blind, my photos are 25 to 28. Photo 26 is Penelope, 27 is Alexandra. Anyway, when I saw there was another eclipse, I tried to convince them to fly away with me to watch, but turns out you can’t just convince teenagers to go somewhere as easily as when they were younger.

For about two hours, I was gonna go to Crater Lake in Oregon, where I have always wanted to go, but then I found out that the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta was happening smack dab in the eclipse path, and, well, you know I can’t resist a crazy festival, so, despite it being a stupid amount of money for a weekend trip (“you’re an adult with a job and a credit card” a friend reminded me when I wavered about booking it), I jumped on a plane on Friday, a mere five days after it occurred to me to go, and by noon that day I was in my hotel in Old Town, Abq!

Just before I left, I remembered that an old friend, a percussionist, whom I’d only seen on social media for the last decade and a half, lived outside of Albuquerque and though I’m always convinced that folks won’t remember me from time to time, he did and we arranged to have dinner on Friday since he was leaving for concerts in Sedona on Saturday. It was perfect – he showed me the town, we laughed, teased each other, and compared lives. After shrimp tacos and more-than-we-should-have margaritas, we promised it wouldn’t be so long til the next time, and we parted ways.

My original plan was to wake before dawn on Saturday to see the balloons in what is known as a “mass ascension” which may include joining a cult, but my margaritas from the night before helped me adjust the plan. I watched the ascension from my hotel room window and it was beautiful. Hundreds of balloons dotting the sky and crossing the Sandia Mountains.

From there, it was time to get serious about the eclipse, or as they call it in New Mexico, the E-clipse. Since all of Abuquerque was in the path, there were some good choices, but ultimately I headed for the Petroglyph National Monument visitor center (I couldn’t get to the trails, but I’ve seen lots of petroglyphs over the years and around the globe), where I spoke with park rangers and a wonderful collection of of folks from near and far. From there, I walked along a mysterious path (where folks had set up telescopes), to the lava field of the “Three Sisters” volcanos. Though I hadn’t intended to, I hiked to the top of the volcanos, found a nice piece of lava on which to plant myself and watched through the various glasses the rangers were handing out. The field was populated with good natured and friendly groups of eclipse watchers, some with impressive cameras – one nice man from Miami with a giant set up, let us watch through his lens and took email addresses promising to send us all his photos. But most folks (me included) were trying desperately to put sun protective glasses over their camera lens to do the best they could. Just as the total eclipse occurred and the famed “ring of fire” appeared, one clever group turned on Johnny Cash and everyone gathered joined in a giant singalong and I teared up at the beauty of our shared experience.

After making my way down the volcano (wearing thin soled keds was not my finest decision), I headed back to the hotel for a quick change and into Old Town, where I’d signed up for a bike tour along the Rio Grande. At first it was only me, and the guide was exactly the kind of guide I like for these things – weathered, gruff, with a long beard and leathery skin. “You ready to RIDE?” he asked, and I was. But then a mom from NOLa and her nine year old son came in and join up, and our guide changed to a woman named Heidi with a Roswell t-shirt and an alien tattoo. “Who watches Breaking Bad?” she asked? Not one of us did (fortunately the nine year old did not). “Well, I’ll show you some of the hot spots anyway and then you can go home and watch it.” I will not be doing that and I started our slow ride without any of my joy from the morning. But quirky (or as she called herself “Albu-quirky” Heidi won me over and I loved talking all things New Orleans with my riding companion. We made it to the Rio Grande, which was not exactly rushing, and rode along it for quite some time before turning into town and exploring the vast neighbors in the area. On Kit Carson Way, we passed some busy pickleball courts and I made a note to come back if I had time. I didn’t. The ride was terrific and my legs were feeling my hike and ride.

But wait – there’s more. After wolfing down the doggie bag of shrimp tacos from the night before, I jumped on a shuttle to head to the field of balloons. The hotel had arranged a “party limo” to take folks throughout the day and I found myself riding with two lawyers from Forest Hills, Queens. “Oh, I go to Forest Hills a lot,” I shared, because my friend Angela lives in the building abutting the concert stadium and gets a lot of free tickets. Turns out they also live in that complex and also go to a lot of concerts, but their absolute most favorite concert of all time – James Taylor. “Funny you should say that,” I said…..Where ever I go, JT brings people together.

At the balloon site, I wandered a massive field with hundreds of balloons and I realized I’d never been close to a balloon before. They’re huge. The evening was the “Balloon Glow.” While they didn’t go into the air, they would light the propane burners in a choreographed way that was remarkably beautiful. The crowds were massive, but everyone was full of joy. It reminded me of the Macy’s Thanksgiving balloons as they get inflated the night before the big day – only on a massive scale. I was thinking I’d be in and out in an hour, but I stayed for about four hours, the evening ended with a drone show and ok fireworks (my standards are high after 20 years working July 4 concerts). Back at the party limo, my lawyers were there as well and equally, surprisingly awed by the experience.

This morning, I did get up at stupid early o’clock and got on the party limo in the dark to head back to the field for the final mass ascension of this year’s festival. It was cold. So, so cold and my little keds offered little protection for my toes, which I was sure were turning blue. I wondered the dark for a while and grabbed a hot chocolate and Indian fry bread (something I’d considered making for New Mexico in my cooking trip around the country.). 7am came and went without any balloons being inflated. The crowds thinned. A red devil balloon slowly rose and quickly deflated. I asked one of the balloon handlers what was happening – apparently the wind was too much and the lift was cancelled. We talked for about 30 minutes about how one takes up ballooning as a hobby (I mean, if you think skiing is expensive…), and he introduced me to his brothers, all dressed in pink jumpsuits. Their parents had taken them up in a balloon decades earlier and they scrimped and saved and worked with other balloon teams, til they could buy their own. Now they all work full time as balloon guides. “Get in,” he said, hoisting me into the tiny basket. I’ve never actually thought about taking a balloon ride, but now I might give it. a try. He handed me his card and said they’d be happy to train me as a volunteer balloon handler for next year’s fest, and I might just do it.

Back in town, I finished my visit, as one should in New Mexico, viewing a Georgia O’Keefe exhibition at the wonderful Albuquerque Museum of Art.

I write this from 35,000 feet somewhere between Dallas and Cleveland. I’m an definitely cured of what ever it was that made me need this trip and feeling like my best self, living my best life. I’ve thought so much about my darling aunt and uncle and how they inspire me. My uncle’s love of talking to ANYONE and finding commonality and my aunt’s desire to find the good in every situation. In fact she said find good so often, I had the words tattooed on my wrist as a reminder to always do that! Here are my favorite photos of me, but also of them – dancing with my aunt, and my uncle just totally ignoring our shenanagans as he prepares breakfast.

There is a lot of bad in the world right now, but I challenge us all to go out and find the good. And for me one of the best ways to to do that is to share a magical experience with people – friends to be sure, but it is just as powerful with strangers, some of whom will become friends. There is so much to see and do and I can’t wait for my next boondogle, but right now, I’m looking forward to getting back to the Great Catsby and real life.

PS – the next total eclipse is April 8, 2024 and Cleveland is in the line of totality. I’m already planning the viewing party/picnic at Cuyahoga National Park. Everyone’s welcome! I have extra beds, air mattresses, tons of eclipse glasses!!