Hot Air on a Cool Day

Bonus Video Below!!
A lot was happening in Fountain Hills, which has vaulted to the number one position of places we’d like to live if we were ever to leave Sacramento. (We would have to ‘summer’ in Oregon or Colorado.) By coincidence, our stay at nearby McDowell Mountain Regional Park overlapped their annual Arts and Craft Show, a ‘juried’ extravaganza with over 500 vendors. Very classy stuff. No souvenir T-shirts or grandma’s glassware at this one.

After another hike in the desert (a quick 4-miler) on Saturday, we spent our second day at the show. It was a nice day, with crunching crowds (unlike the opening day on Friday when threatening rain scared most folks away). We made a few minor purchases, including a $20 kite that is “guaranteed to fly.” We enjoyed the hourly eruption of the fountain in the adjacent community lake—hence the name of the town.

Our final morning featured a crack of dawn awakening to get to the Hot-Air Balloon Rally at the lake. The fountain was turned off, lest said balloons get blown out of the sky by an untimely plume. About 10 balloons took to the air, with a couple accomplishing the feat of ‘lake kisses’, descending to touch the lake surface after take off.

We’ve had our balloon fix, so this probably saved us a trip to New Mexico for the Balloonfest they have each fall. Good way to save that gas money!
To view balloon video, click here. Be patient while it uploads.

After a short 50 mile drive to the northwest, with a $2.79/gallon gas fix at Costco along the way, we have landed in another Maricopa regional park, the Lake Pleasant Park. Our prime space is on a hill above the lake (about the size of Folsom Lake in Sacramento). Overcast skies are starting to break. ‘Sun-breaks’ as they say in Oregon. This is home for a few days. The parks are the 'real deal'. $20 bucks a night for electricity (50 amps here) and water. Dump station, too. Plenty of open space in beautiful surroundings. The option, of course would be to spend $30-35 a night for a 'squeeze-in' spot in a commercial park, where we would be close enough to adjacent rigs to hear the occupants burping and farting throughout the night. Just like the old Phi Delt fraternity house.