Hot Air in Lake Havasu II

Day two of the festival proved to be better than day one.

And not because I was less tired. Cause, man, when that alarm went off, I wanted to kill someone. Or die. Or both. I was not ready for the day. But alas, the a.m. “mass ascension” awaited. And hadn’t I driven an awfully long way to see some serious hot air balloon action?

Answer: Yes.

I hauled my butt out of bed, made coffee, and drove downtown. I parked in the first spot I came to in “Casino Parking” and got out of my car to watch the huge balloons inflate and then I followed them down the water and watched them skim over the London Bridge. The real show-offs dropped down low enough for their baskets to touch the water and then quickly ascended as the crowd clapped.

Honestly, I don’t know what makes hot air balloons so magical, but they are. And I can tell I’m not the only one that thinks so, ’cause there were grown-ass adults running (running!) down the path in shock and awe, pointing at the sky like little kids at Disneyland for the first time.

Three hours flew by and I realized I was exhausted.

After a huge nap, I was ready for more. Headed back down to the site for the night time festivities and was treated to this:

 

Then me and my new CouchSurfing friends went and saw Sisters at the theatre and I ate WAY too many Junior Mints. A successful day, if ever I’ve had one.

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