Where did I leave off?

Note: I’ve been off the radar for a couple of weeks due to a week-long episode of back spasms and then a week of general recovery to get back to normal – whatever that is.  Anyway, I’ve got some catching up to do so I’ll take up where I left off – at the Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado.  Enjoy!

   

October 1, 2014: Great Sand Dunes National Park – North America’s tallest dunes.

Where did all that sand come from? 

Most of the sand comes from the San Juan Mountains over 65 miles west of the dunes.  The larger grains of sand on the dune surface are from the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to the immediate east of the dunes.  Over the course of time, sand and sediment washed into a large valley lake from both ranges.  As the lake dried up southwesterly winds blew the sand toward the Sangre de Cristos where it piled up beneath the mountain range.  Northeasterly winds blowing down through the mountain passes piled the dunes back onto themselves creating the tallest dunes in North America.  Their estimated age is 440,000 years old.  The dunes themselves represent just over 10% of the 330-square-mile deposit of sand in the area.  That’s a big sandbox, folks. 

And, the surge flow phenomenon – what’s that all about?

 

Hikers in Medano Creek before ascending the dunes from the east.

There’s only a few places in the world where you can experience surge flow, a stream flowing in rhythmic waves on sand.  As water flows down the creekbed, sand dams or antidunes form in the sand, gathering water. As the water pressure builds up, the dams break, sending down a wave about every 20 seconds as much as a foot high!  Pretty phenomenal phenomenon!

Don’t stay on the trail.

Most national and state parks we have visited have one pretty steadfast rule: “Stay on the trail”.  Not so with Great Sand Dunes.  Visitors are encouraged to get off the trail and explore the mountains, forests, grasslands, streambeds – and of course, the dunes.  We did just that.

We start our morning hike from Pinion Campground and head down a horse trail.  Not the best choice, we discover, as the trail is a combination of loose sand, sediment, and horse poo.  Once we’re down the trail a short distance and ankle deep in – “whatever” – it seems our best option is to just continue on towards Medano Creek.  As soon as feasible, we take the advice of the park service and get off the trail.  We reach some lesser dunes on the campground side of the creek.  Horse poo but a vague memory.

On the dunes, we turn around and look back toward the Sangre de Cristos.

We climb from the ridge overlooking the creek …

Down through the willows to the edge of the Medano …

And finally, into the slow-moving creekbed.

Out of the creek and dunes we enter into sagebrush and pine trees.

We come upon several deer along the way.  We skirt around them so we don’t disturb their grazing.

We see the Medano Pass Primitive Road in the distance.  It seems so close.  If only these darn gulches weren’t between us and the road.  Finally, we trudge up out of the bush onto the road where we head back to camp.

I’m not leaving until I conquer the sand dunes!    

Jack has no such yearning – or perhaps he simply has more common sense than I do.  So after some nourishment I head for the dunes while Jack relaxes at camp with a book.

My goal: High Dune (699 feet – give or take as the wind blows).

I feel energized and walk at a fast pace as I climb the first small dune.  Hmm.  Behind the first dune is a very deep swale.  I’m a bit surprised at how far down I have to trudge in the sand before climbing my way upward again.  It looks like it would have been smarter to just walk around this first dune to save a little energy had I only known what was on the other side.

Onward and upward walking along the ridgeline. 

I decide to leave the ridgeline and cut across the dunes following the trail of some of my obviously highly intelligent predecessors.  It’s a short cut, right?  Some very dark storm clouds are looming over High Dune.

In fairly short order I realize that this isn’t the smartest move I’ve ever made.  It’s very difficult plodding through the deep sand at such a severe angle and consumes more energy than following the ridge would have.  I take a break.  Trudge.  Take another break.  Trudge.  The tiny dots below are people on their own journeys amongst the dunes.  The storm clouds continue to build in the west and I recognize this could potentially be a dangerous situation with lightening. 

I am determined not to head back down without reaching some goal – meager as it may be.  I look around for the nearest peak.  There’s my new goal!  The awesome thing about my approach to goal setting is that I don’t mind making adjustments as the need arises.  The clouds are "arising" and there's a definite "need" to adjust.

With my new, slightly diminished goal in sight I march upward again with renewed energy.  (Note: There’s not many clouds in the east – yet.)

Goal achieved!  I’ve made it approximately 2/3 of the way to High Dune and that will do just fine for today.  Just don’t turn to the west where High Dune looms far above.  Dang it!  There it is!  I look away and resolve that that’s a goal for another day. 

The storm is nearly upon me now and the wind is picking up.    I turn and make my way back down the dunes.  Every raised boot step sends sand flying horizontally.  I jog where it’s safe to do so.  Walk cautiously along ridges where there’s an off change of sliding or rolling down into a deep swale.  I refuse to be the park story of the season: “Woman Rolls Into Dune Swale.  NPS Drags Her Out with a Wench”.  Better to be safe than sorry I always say. 

The rain begins.  Off the dunes, it’s a race across the sand and Medano Creek to the parking lot beyond.

The Sangre de Cristos are now completely engulfed in dark clouds.  When I pull into camp, Jack is waiting with the door open to let me in out of the rain.

He smiles, “Have fun out there?”

“Sure did.  Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Until next time – be safe.  And, go climb a dune!