“This is the first stop every year,” she said. “We deliberately park at this gate because these donuts are that good.”
The 108-year-old Eastern States Exposition — better known as the Big E — is New England’s annual 17-day fall rite, a mash-up of thrilling rides, state pride, livestock barns, and endless food. It draws crowds by the hundreds of thousands to West Springfield each September. Last year, one Saturday packed more than 170,000 people onto the fairgrounds in a single day — shoulder to shoulder, shuffle-only movement.
This year, the fair is again on pace for record attendance. As of Sunday, it had already topped one million visitors, Eastern States Exposition told the Globe, with several hundred thousand more expected before the gates close this weekend.
Even Wednesday’s gray skies didn’t keep people away, with some preferring to attend midweek when the crowds were thinner.
Rebecca Sutter, a ballet teacher from Holyoke who helps her husband sell handcrafted jewelry, has worked the Big E for more than a decade. She still remembers the crowds one Saturday last fall.
“It’s like a tunnel,” she said. “You’re just pushed through. Nobody can stop, nobody can talk.”
This year, she added, there are moments when it feels crowded — but not nearly as intense.
The Big E’s vendors offer a reminder that not everything worth bringing home comes covered in powdered sugar.
For Michael Butler, a Worcester native, the Big E is a brand-new venture. Butler, who recently retired after a lifetime of woodworking, launched JustCuttingBoards.com a little over a year ago. He makes four or five cutting boards a week in his Worcester workshop, each with a distinctive design. He says the crowds are enough to draw business without feeling overwhelming.
“This is my first year here,” Butler said, standing among his display of glossy, patterned boards. “It’s been very, very crowded, but when people see the boards, they’re intrigued. It’s been a nice response.”
Even without the crowds, the fair itself is a sensory overload. At the petting zoo, goats stretch their necks over the fence for a quarter’s worth of feed, and camels, far from their native climate, chew handouts from visitors.
By the food stands, the sweet scent of fried dough dusted with powdered sugar wafts through the air and steam rises from freshly popped kettle corn.
Then, there are the potatoes, potatoes, and more potatoes.
Raquel and Kari Perez, sisters who grew up in Rhode Island and are now living in Massachusetts, were at the Big E for the first time. They admitted how they were finally convinced to come.
“TikTok,” they both said, laughing.
By mid-afternoon, they had already checked off a giant cream puff and one of the fair’s famous loaded baked potatoes. Next up was the viral pickle pizza.
“We’re overwhelmed at the amount of things to do,” Raquel Perez said.
The Maine Potato Board stand seemed to be the consensus as a fair food favorite: $8 for a heaping pile of toppings seemed like a bargain compared to an order of apple fries costing $20 and a slice of the pickle pizza going for $8.
It was understandable why people were saving their meals from the rain as it would sporadically shower, covering it with their jackets and umbrellas, before saving themselves.
Lily Iglesias, a nurse from Western Mass., who helps run the Maine baked potato booth, said the secret is consistency.
“We haven’t really changed anything — it’s the same thing year after year, and people know what they’re coming back for,” she said. Even on rainy weekdays, “it’s rarely without a line,” she said. That line wrapped around the outside of the Maine Statehouse building.
Jennifer Tokarz, of Durham, Connecticut, didn’t seem to mind since she doesn’t even look at other potato vendors.
“One of the best baked potatoes I’ve ever had,” Tokarz said. “If you’re going to have a baked potato, you come here. It’s well worth the wait,” Tokarz added.
Erin Chase, a nurse from Enfield, Conn., who grew up in Brimfield, Mass., admitted she was a Big E regular as she waited for her beer. This year alone, she’d already sampled her way through steak tips with mashed potatoes, apple fries with ice cream, and, of course, the baked potatoes. She has strong opinions about those, too: Connecticut’s version, with its larger size and pulled-pork toppings, beats Maine’s nostalgic standby, she said.
For Chase, the fair is less a one-off trip than a seasonal tradition.
“People plan for vacation,” she said. “Me, I plan to spend money at the Big E.”
People even spend their birthdays at the Big E.
Addison Gilmore of Enfield, Conn., turned 11 on Wednesday.
“We always go on my birthdays,” she said — even if it meant leaving school halfway through the day. “It’s just a happy place for a lot of people.”
Her mom, Allison Gilmore, has been coming since she was a kid, too. While Addison Gilmore dives into the fair, Allison Gilmore is happy just watching the crowd.
“I love to just sit and people watch,” she said. “It’s crazy, but it’s just the difference of people, you know?”
No Big E visit is complete without a stroll down the Avenue of States — a row of one-third scale replicas of each New England statehouse, each one stuffed with regional pride, vendors, and plenty more food. In theory, you’re supposed to hit them all. In practice, not everyone has the time (or the stomach).
One group of friends from Massachusetts set out on a mission to sample, compare, and debate their way through each state.
Maine, they said, is always worth stopping by for its blueberry creations, lobster rolls, and infamous baked potato. Vermont’s maple syrup comes out on top.
“The [Vermont] vendors have the flannels and it makes it feel really cozy,” Chad Hart, an account manager from Western Mass, who now lives in Newton, MA.
Connecticut and Rhode Island didn’t fare as well, according to Hart’s friend group.
“I was giving Rhode Island extra kudos for their Jack-o’-lantern spectacular,” said Sarah Howard, a business executive from Belchertown, optimistically.
But Connecticut?
“It’s showy without giving much,” Hart said. “I used to live near the border, and every time I crossed into Connecticut, I thought, what am I doing here?”
They had brought along a few non–Western Mass friends who seemed to be having a great time, like Shardae Jobson, an office manager from Boston, who filled her shopping bag.
“You have to support the local businesses, mom-and-pop,” she said smiling.