I want to believe.
Well as the sign says…
Roswell really does believe … at least in cashing in. The town has completely leant into the 1947 incident. Everything is alien branded:









I was particularly taken with the street lamps
And this totally worked on me… “We come in peace, give us your money…”
The museum was a combination of displays discussing the 1947 incident, including affidavits from many of the witnesses and copies of government documents about the setting up of Majestic-12. These are interspersed with fun, if a little tacky, displays.


But they also have a research library and there were a number of people making use of it. This is serious stuff!


And then on to the many, many, many gift shops to score some swag. Well you have to really! It is all very good natured.
Now I had planned to go to the crash site even though there is nothing there apparently. There used to be a monument but it disappeared. Some might suggest shenanigans from the man. My money, based on the lengths that Derbyshire farmers go to to stop hikers crossing their land, would be the local ranchers.
Regardless, I had researched how to get there. Now sitting in sweltering heat, I reread the instructions. The 2 hour drive there is not overly appealing (especially with another 90 minutes to get back to the hotel after) but it is the other section of the instructions that gave me pause for thought…
Apparently to get there you have to crawl under a barbed wire fence and then the instructions for the last mile or so walk suggest “wear boots, look out for rattlesnakes”. Suddenly my sturdy walking shoes feel as though they are leaving my ankles dangerously exposed.
I am wearing my snake pants. Not snakeskin pants you understand, just some combat trousers with elasticated ankles which I thought might be useful for walking in areas where there was a high probability of snakes, scorpions or anything else which might take a fancy to crawling up your leg and having a nibble.
Suddenly this does not seem entirely adequate. This might not be a solo journey. The thought of dying painfully from a snake bite with no one to call for help seems like a suboptimal outcome for the day.
And of course after all, it was just a weather balloon … wasn’t it???
I call it and decide to head back t the hotel, partly because discretion is the better part of valour and cowardice is the better part of discretion, but also as I really need to do some laundry and I quite fancy having a look around Ruidoso as I have landed here with no knowledge.
It looks like a typical (from my limited experience) mountain activity resort - full of gift shops, trendy boutiques, bars, restaurants and weed shops. Could be worse.
It also occurs to me that I should probably book accommodation for Friday and Saturday too in case everything gets booked. This wouldn’t usually be a worry, but it turns out that it is a holiday weekend in the states and folks will be on the move - especially as this side of the country is having a heat wave and the east side is having record cold, storms, tornadoes…
Tip: Always check for holidays in the country you are travelling to. Apart from accommodation issues, I got caught out last year trying to get some food on July 3rd, only to be told that everyone had closed down in preparation for the 4th. Who knew?