Camping with Dad

Ever since I heard that one could camp on the Sand Dunes, I wanted to go. Bad. My dad, always one to support a good adventure and my partner in many adventures over the course of my life, caught the vision as well. I was initially discouraged due to the intense difficulty of climbing the dunes, but after Cori and my successful summiting of High Dune, I knew it could be done. Dad started training in the Springs for our adventure, and finally the weekend was upon us.

Dad picked up our park pass on his way into town while I finished up work for the week. I packed as quickly as I could, and then I led Dad on a wild goose chase trying to find Subway so we could get dinner. Eventually we found it (so close to where I live), got our food, and headed out of town.

I felt mildly panicked. The park ranger had told Dad to be back in the park by 6 because the gates close. We were cutting it close. We ate our sandwiches and chips as we drove and Dad told me about the first time he had tried salt and vinegar chips. It was a remarkably good story involving a sit-in in Canada. We reached the gates at 6:01. The ranger said, “Welcome back!” and waved us into the park.

We parked at the designated lot and put on our packs. I got to break in my huge backpacking pack. I was a little embarrassed at the size of it for just an overnight trip, but later I was able to console myself that I used pretty much everything I had packed. Dad had purchased a pair of trekking poles for me as well. I felt pretty BA. We set off towards the dunes, cutting through a large section of the Escape Dunes. It was much cooler than the section I had found on my search.

Not my favorite picture ever of me, but I felt cool at the time.

 The going was, predictably, difficult. Hiking in sand is hard enough as it is, and it is compounded by heavy packs. The trekking poles helped immensely (SEE CORI! THEY ARE USEFUL!). The air was fairly still and the sun was on our faces. We longed for a breeze. We would soon regret that.

The dry creek was looking a little weird! This wasn't mud. 

My hero

Sand

Well where should we go from here?

 As the sun started to go down, the wind picked up. A lot. And we were pretty worn out. Eventually we came across a relatively flat and somewhat (not really) sheltered area. We were about 80% sure were could came there. (You can camp anywhere on the dunes outside the day visiting zone. But this area is hard to identify in real life). We rested briefly and then set out to put up our tent.

Sunset equals WIND

Nice view from our campsite

Have you ever put up a tent in a gale force wind with sand flying into your face? It was a struggle. It was compounded by the fact that the tent would be difficult to put up on a good day due to the way the poles were laid out. We used our pack, our feet and sometimes our legs to try to keep the canvas from blowing off. At least twice, I had to chase the small bag that had held the poles, running at a full on sprint to catch it as it, not even whimsically, blew about on the dune.

Eventually we got the tent up and I climbed in to set up my sleeping bag. Suddenly I felt cold wetness running down my leg. I looked down and saw a stream of water coming from the head of the tent. I cried out, “NO! No no no no no no!” as I quickly dug through the bags to find the source of the leak. Turns out that the bite valve of my camelbak had popped off. I replaced it and then assessed the damage. There was a nice little mud puddle in the middle of the tent. We put down one of Dad’s shirts on it, and I climbed out of the tent to let the wind dry my pants.

Wet butt

Dad keeping our tent from blowing away. Note how both knees of his pants ripped out.

Dad theorized that the wind was probably due to the sunset, and once the sun was down, the wind would die down as well. After the tent dried, we climbed in to wait out the wind. We did not bring the rain fly, so sand was blowing in through the mesh holes. We hunkered down, eating trail mix and chatting.

Eventually Dad decided to call Carrie (my stepmom). The dunes actually have great cell phone service. We got a hold of her and told her about the wind. She said she’d pray that it’d stop. Literally the minute Dad hung up the phone, the wind stopped. Although it would pick up off and on throughout the night, it was never as bad as it had been. Awesome.


Fun fact: in nature, you’re supposed to bury your waste (as in, poo and such) at least six inches deep. Well at the dunes that would preserve it forever. So they asked us to just bury it an inch deep. Doing that made me feel like a cat. I imagine cats would love the Sand Dunes. They could “go” anywhere!

First one star came out. Then another. Then it was like the sky exploded. City girls like me don’t get to see the night sky unpolluted by light very often. I tend to forget how amazing it is. The Milky Way was splashed across the sky, mingling with countless other stars and galaxies. Constellations that you can’t see in the city were clearly visible. We brought out Dad’s awesome DSLR camera and attempted to take star trail pictures. I was really into that when I was younger, but I have long since forgotten the setting you put the camera on so that you can keep the shutter open as long as you want. We found settings that opened the shutter for up to about 14 seconds, but no more than that. That was just enough that you could start to make out tiny pinpricks of light in the finished photo. Nothing like the incredible expanse that we were witnessing. Eventually we stopped trying and just looked up.

I saw three shooting stars. Dad saw two. Overall, a win for a night of stargazing. I noticed pulsing lights just over the next dune. We decided that somewhere in the valley was a thunderstorm, the lightning of which we could just make out. We eventually decided to go to sleep, and I said a quick prayer that the storm wouldn’t blow our way.

The person who snores always falls asleep first. This is the rule. And it was in full effect that day. My dad fell asleep rather quickly, leaving me to contend with his occasional bouts of sawing zz’s. Fortunately, with a harsh “SHHHH!” from me or a clearing of the throat, Dad usually stops for a while. Then it’s a race for me to fall asleep before he starts up again.

Around 2 AM, we both decided that we needed our sleeping pads. Originally we thought the sand would be comfortable enough for us to not put down our pads. This was a terrible, terrible misconception. As soon as I burrowed down enough for my arms to be comfortable, I noted that all the sand was now poking my stomach. My hip flexors were burning from trying to lay on my side. At virtually the same time, Dad and I got fed up with trying. We blew up our sleep mats, and had a much better rest of the night.

With the dawn came another breeze and more sand. I pulled my scarf over my head, and slept relatively well.


 6 AM meant just enough light that we couldn’t sleep anymore. We took some pictures of the morning and our site, and then packed up. It went much smoother than getting unpacked. Then we headed back.

Ugh, gross. Morning picture. Note the TP.

Getting ready for the day!

Eventually Dad just ripped the rest of his pants right off.

We had a neighbor!

Sunrise!

I love the shadows!

This place is amazing!

Daddy! :)

I think some of these ripples look like people.

The dunes are far from dead. Hundreds of tracks, new since the evening before, littered the sand, from bug to mouse to even (we think) bear tracks! I was really excited about trying to identify what each track belonged to, which slowed down part of our hike considerably. We were exhausted from our hike the day before and from our abbreviated sleep. Each hill promised to be the last. Each hill was not. Our hearts felt sad at that point. Finally we reached that final hill and saw the most beautiful view: the car!

Are these bear tracks???

These weird little tracks were everywhere!

What are you? WHAT ARE YOU???

Dad

Trees

Camping on the dunes was amazing! It’s been far too long since I have seen a sky like that. I was honored to share that experience with one of my favorite people in the world, my dad! Thanks for the adventure, Dad! I love you!

Deer!

To the Bat Cave, Robin!

The COTA I work with knew of a cave in which there is thousands of bats. Every night around 7:30 the bats swarm out to feed, and one can watch them. We decided this would be a great option for the rehab team to do while hanging out. After work one day, we headed out.

I went with my fieldwork educator, whose name is Robin, hence the name of this post, while everyone else went with the boy PT (in case you were wondering, since I didn’t tell these folks I was going to write about them, I am going to refer to them by their job title, and since there is a boy and a girl PT, I will include their gender. Robin will from here on after be called “Boss”).

The cave was much farther away than I was envisioning. Really, everything is far away in this valley. We were heading straight into a thunderstorm. It was beautiful and wild. We could see exactly where the rain started. Then we drove into the rain. It got less fun. Much less fun.

I noticed shortly before the rain got really serious that we were passing by the UFO observatory. It’s a tiny platform and a campground in the middle of the valley. It looked a lot bigger in the pictures online.
Anyway, the rain was pounding down on our car, and then we drove into an area that had recently had a large quantity of hail. All of the cars slowed down greatly, and then Boss’ car started hydroplaning. I remember thinking, “We’re going to go in the ditch. Okay. Get ready.” Boss was able to straighten the car out at the last minute.

It took us over an hour to get to the trail head. Even at the trailhead though, the view was amazing. You could see the sun setting across the valley, reflecting off lakes and illuminating fields and trees. It really is a beautiful place.

The Valley

Girl PT and COTA

The hike wasn’t bad. We all split up into groups of two or three. I mostly walked with Boss, but I was concerned about being slow. I shouldn’t have been. We hiked up at a quick but not rushed pace. At one point, we saw COTA’s bag of sandwiches sitting next to the trail. I looked to my right, and there was her head, barely visible over the brush. It was a pit stop. I’m just thankful that the brush was there.

Old well?

 We passed a sign talking about the cave, and it mentioned how the cave is named “The Glory Hole.” I kid you not. Who named this place? I think probably a teenage boy.

The Glory Hole

Flying mammals

Boss

The Valley

Beauty!

Boy PT and Boss enjoying the view

More beauty

Sure sure.

 The view just kept getting more spectacular. As we neared The Glory Hole, there was a sign warning visitors to be quiet. With this group? Yeah, right.

They didn't say anything about controlling the adults.

Old mine

Honestly? No shame!

Those are bats!!!

We were the first people up at the entrance to The Glory Hole. We parked on a bench and people busted out food. SLP’s husband had brought extra burritos, so I got to eat one and that saved me from busting out my delicious trail mix. Conversation ranged from work topics to plant life to camping trips and what people wanted done if they ever got dementia. Others started trickling in, including a group of students from the University of Arkansas. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that many men with one long braid down the middle of their backs in one place.

As we were talking, a woman walked up and told us that she was leading a tour. The Bat Queen asked if we wanted to see a picture of a bat skeleton. We said sure, and were disappointed to find that it was really uninteresting. She was describing what the bats look like when they start to swarm when Boss said, “Like that?” Sure enough, the bats were emerging from The Glory Hole. The Bat Queen mercifully left us alone to watch the swarm (flock? Herd?)


It was a much cooler experience than I thought it would be. Most of us were silent as we watched thousands upon thousands of bats fly out of the cavern. The sound of thousands of bat wings is hard to describe. It’s like a whirring. Every once in a while, you could hear the bats’ sonar squeaking. They formed an undulating, black, streaming cloud over our heads and spiraling down into the valley.

It stopped once for a few minutes and then the second group came out. It was very, very cool. After the stream became a trickle, we decided to head down. As we were leaving the old mine area, I heard Boss say “This place has great rock energy.” I decided not to ask for an explanation.

The hike down was fun. We made a myriad of Glory Hole jokes, among other things that were hilarious but I’m not going to put down here. We freaked out a young couple who hiked past us quickly, said we were funny, and then practically ran down the mountain.

Clouds

 I joined the group in male PT’s car as Boss was going to go straight home. We were having a lovely time in the car when suddenly boy PT pulled over. His car had a flat. There on the highway right by the Crestone exit, the men of the car changed the tire in nearly pitch blackness while the women of the car discussed the merits of Facebook. Girl PT and I both thought it was awesome and convenient, but we were both younger. COTA and SLP, who are both a little older, thought it was stupid. The conclusion was that they didn’t know how to use it and didn’t check it enough.

She is leaking!

COTA and SLP supervising men

Thanks gentlemen!

Although the drive was longer than I expected, the Bat Cave was really really cool. The hike was challenging enough to be interesting without making us all want to die, and it afforded wonderful views of this beautiful corner of the state. The bats were amazing. I highly recommend this if you’re in the San Luis Valley. But plan ahead: the bat migrate with their insect food source. They are here in the summer, but they move on for the fall and winter. The Glory Hole is not nearly as interesting without them. But you’d still get the views. And of course, the obvious source of jokes.

Adventures with Cori

My awesome and amazing friend of nearly 10 years (and roommate for 4 years) Cori decided to visit me on the 4th of July. I was so excited to see her and honored that she’d endure the 10 hour round trip just for me. Upon her arrival, during our lunch at Subway, we made our plan of attack for her visit.

Our first stop was Zapata Falls. The promise of getting to play in a waterfall was too much for Cori to pass up, and I was itching to go back and visit in Chacos so that I could actually get my feet in the water. We figured that being that it was a holiday, the falls would either be abandoned or packed. Unfortunately, the latter was true. It was a cluster you-know-what, with families, groups of teenagers, and even a huge Boy Scout troop hiking the half mile and mingling in the misty cavern waiting for their opportunity to get their picture taken next to the falls.

The large group of people joining us at the falls

I was so happy that I had worn my Chacos. I was able to wade through the river with the Chacos on and not have to worry about my feet getting hurt by rocks. Cori wore flip flops which she took off. At one point, she asked me to take a picture of her. I stood on a rock as Cori gingerly picked her way across the stream. As I waited for Cori to get into position, I noticed small girl desperately chased her wayward flip flop downstream. I laughed. It was one of those few moments where I actually liked that there were strangers present on the adventure. Overall, it was much better than my first time there, partly due to the company of my awesome friend, and partly because I didn’t fall in or lose any water bottles.

After the falls, Cori and I decided to go to the Sand Dunes. Unfortunately there was a storm hanging out over the dunes, which made us a little nervous about lightning. We decided to hang out at the Visitor’s Center for a little while to see if the storm would blow over. At the Visitor’s Center, I learned some fun facts, such as one of the biggest caldera’s in the world is in Southern Colorado. Science!

Cori is very excited

The storm blew over, so Cori and I headed to the dunes. One of the first things Cori did was take off her flip flops. I decided to follow suit. The damp, cold sand felt wonderful on our feet. It was great. It was actually much easier to walk on the sand with toes free to grip with. We trekked across the creek bed and up the dunes.

We decided not to try High Dune, and instead started up to the left of it. We stopped frequently to admire the view and to take rest breaks. After a Peanut Passion Picnic (PPP) we looked up and realized that we were actually quite close to the top of High Dune. We decided then that we had to go for it. It would only take us a few minutes.

It is amazing how fast you can get really really high!

Cori is excited for our PPP!

PPP!!!

Tiny people

Sunset

Well it took more than a few minutes to reach the top. The higher we got, the steeper we got. It was amazing and really really hard. After much longer than anticipated, we reached the summit of High Dune. The only other people up there were a German couple who were sitting off to one side. Cori and I took the requisite summit pictures and then sat to enjoy the view for a while.

It was really tiring!

The stick marking the top!

The view!

I made it!

Cori decided it was a good time to roll down the hill. She did, and I took a video. She clambered back up and insisted that I take a turn. I hate being dirty, but my feet were already extremely nasty from our barefoot hike and my pants were full of sand, so I decided to go for it. I didn’t expect how quickly I’d pick up speed. Sand whipped my face and I shut my eyes tightly while rolling. Getting nervous, I stopped fairly quickly and laughing, climbed back up the hill.

A short time later, a woman in shorts with trekking poles came hiking swiftly up the dune. She was very excited to reach the top, and took a bejeweled iPhone out of a baggie in her pocket and asked us to take a lot of pictures of her. We got to talking and found out her name was Sylvia. She was a French Canadian who was taking time off from owning her own work out facility and touring national parks in America. She had already been to quite a few, including the Grand Canyon. I took a picture with her and then Cori and I started down.

Me and our new friend Sylvia

Being as it had just rained, Cori and I had lugged my snow skate up the dunes. It was ineffective to ride while standing, but Cori discovered that on the firm sand, sitting on it proved to be the ticket to an awesome ride. We took turns sledding on the trip down whenever we came across areas of hard packed sand.

Our hike down took a long time, and although we had left Sylvia behind on the summit, she got down less than five minutes after we did. Cori and I brushed the sand off of us as best we could and headed home.