The Great Sand Dunes

The parking lot is overflowing. Barefooted families picnic in the sand, men throw Frisbees for dogs to chase, and young girls sleep in the sun. On the lower dunes young children lie on their sides and roll to the bottom. Some ride plastic sleds. Higher up people-watchers sit and watch the scenes below. Higher still are trekkers with an aim for the top taking a rest.

My husband, Mark, and I are in southern Colorado at the Great Sand Dunes National Monument, one of the most awe-inspiring national beauties I’ve ever seen—after Washington’s Mt. Rainier on a sunny day and Alaska’s Inside Passage. A ranger at the visitors’ center spoke on the difference between a Park and a Monument. It’s an involved definition. Please see http://www.nps.gov/grsa/wahtsthediff.htm to learn for yourself.

The highest of the ever-changing Great Sand Dunes are over 700 feet, and daredevils on their snowboards-turned-sandboards are beginning their descents to the bottom, zigzagging down the dunes. Mark and I plan to hike to the top. After climbing several dunes we collapse for a rest. My camera case is around my neck, unzipped, and without my realizing it, my $230 zoom-lens camera falls out into the sand. I take the last four shots on the roll and listen to the auto rewind grind the film into its canister.

Even though hundreds are here, the expanse of the dunes make us feel solitary. The peacefulness sooths my burning ire of getting sand in my camera. This Sunday before Labor Day, we each have our own section of the dunes to enjoy, and there’s still plenty to go around. Mark and I sit in the sand watching little boys slide down the steep lower dunes at break neck speeds while their mothers recline with a book and enjoy the early September sun. We watch young men carry their boards ever higher to the peaks of the equally steep upper dunes and then “surf” down.

After a 10-minute rest, Mark and I hike up the next couple dunes, yet the top seems no closer. We give up our goal of the summit and head down. Mark sweetly offers to carry the camera case so that I can have some fun running down the steep sides. I brought a plastic garbage bag to try as a sled, but it doesn’t work. I really was looking forward to sledding, but running down the dunes is surprisingly fun too.

The Great Sand Dunes are in southern Colorado straight down SR 17 in Mosca, which means fly in Spanish—though we didn’t see a single insect. The park has lodgings at more than $100 a night. Alamosa, 14 miles south on 17, has less expensive lodging opportunities. Mark and I have reservations at a Bed and Breakfast in Moffat, a small town 30 miles north of Mosca, for about $60, which includes breakfast the next morning.

No matter what you pay for a chance to see and experience the Great Sand Dunes, it’s all worth it.