It's a phrase that implies that something will happen only when swine sprout wings. It could be applied to the Antelope Island Balloon Stampede, an event wet weather brought to an early end for the second consecutive year.

But for the 20-plus balloons that actually did fly - including an actual four-story piggy bank - during the recent event, most doubts sailed away with them.

Clear weather on the event's opening day served as a perfect canvas for the balloons, which were visible from as far away as Willard to the north and Victory Road to the south. The morning of the second day was a repeat performance, allowing the balloons to float effortlessly above the desert isle.

Then everything changed.

"Mother Nature turned on us by Saturday afternoon and shut us down," says Vaughan Jacobsen, chairman of the Davis County Chamber of Commerce.

While the foul weather grounded the festival once again, it didn't dampen the spirits of those involved.

"When you consider our three goals [for the event]," Jacobsen adds, "we were 100 percent. The island needs to be responsibly promoted. We want people to enjoy it. Ballooning is about as nature-friendly as you can get."

These objectives - to educate the public about Davis County and Antelope Island, to promote economic development and to do so responsibly - were clearly met, he says.

For Riverton resident and Kettle Corn vendor Allison Fiscus, being at the festival was more than just another job. She found out about the event just two weeks before and jumped at the chance to get involved.

"We were surprised at how many people [came]," says Fiscus, who worked at the booth with her daughter, London Musey. "I was so impressed how the volunteers [helped]. They were here no matter what we needed. I thought it was fascinating that people come out here and share their equipment. [Watching those balloons], you wanted to catch a ride to Kansas."

In addition to the weekend festival, balloonists visited schools in the area earlier in the week, allowing youngsters to see a hot air balloon up close and to learn about the craft.

Murray resident Kent Barnes was one of those balloonists who met with students.

Barnes received his pilot's license while attending college. Six years ago, he added the "lighter-than-air" rating to his certificate, enabling him to balloon the skies.

It was "a bit of a midlife crisis," Barnes recalls. "I was 50-something [and] went up with a friend [in a balloon] and fell in love with it."

Barnes sums up his experience at the Antelope Island Balloon Stampede with three words: "excitement, enchantment and terror."

"Excitement," he explains, "because it's my home geographic area, flying off an island in the Great Salt Lake; enchantment, because of the raw, native beauty of the island; and terror because it is an island. You better check your fuel gauge and make sure you have plenty [of fuel] to land."

While Vaughan Jacobsen acknowledges squaring off against the weather for a second year was frustrating, he is far from discouraged about the event's future. In the hot air balloon arena, after all, weather will certainly always be a factor.

"The weather took the wind out of our sails," he says, "[but] we took steps to make it more comfortable for attendees - and it paid off."