The Escape Dunes

Sunday evening I headed back to the dunes. It was overcast and I discovered that it had rained earlier in the day on the dunes. I was immediately upset that I had not brought my snow skate. The sand dunes website says that riding the dunes is best done after a rain. I would have to wait to find out if this is true.

This is a thing, okay? My self portrait to prove I was there. Mostly prove to me.  

An entirely different place just a day later

It was amazing to see how the personality of the sand changed in just over 24 hours. The day before, the sand was bright, tan, and Saharan in its appearance. I could pretend I was in the middle of the desert, as long as I ignored the mountains and the screaming families. Just one day later, and all the colors in the sand were brought out by the rain. The park was filled with otherworldly twilight. It was cool and wonderful.

I set out across the dry stream bed, heading north and parallel to the dunes. The map said the Escape Dunes were about a kilometer away from the main parking lot, so I was optimistic that it wouldn’t take long to get there. I had forgotten, in the space of just a day, that sand is DIFFICULT to walk in, and everything takes just a bit longer to do. Fortunately, in some areas the sand was hard which made the going much easier and quicker.

My destination was the little green patch just to the right of where that dune ends

Insert reference to Footprints in the Sand

Pretty!

It was approaching twilight

This little plant was lonely

Colors

Opps

After a while, I saw an area with some dead trees that I thought might be the escape dunes, but it was much closer than the area where I was headed. I decided I needed a better look, so I climbed up the nearest dune. I had been right the first time, so I continued heading north, but this time, on the ridge of sand I had climbed.

Going downhill in sand is fun. It almost makes you feel weightless, as you slide step by step downwards. I made it down my dune and headed into the Escape Dunes.

Path down the hill

Some of the residents of the Escape Dunes

More dead trees

Hey, it's a dead tree!

I really liked this tree and took a bunch of photos of it. I'll just show this one.

Well, they were not as neat as I thought they would be. I mean, they were cool, with the skeletons of trees reaching into the sky. But they were smaller than I had envisioned. I took some pictures and then headed back, reflecting on how the journey was more important than the destination. (Deep right?)

I found it a little weird to cross my tracks from the trip out. I got philosophical about it in my thoughts, but I will spare you that. Anyways, my overall perspective was that it was a neat thing to do. Not necessarily something that you HAVE to do when you come here though.

My tracks crossing

Bye!

The Great Sand Dunes

I have been looking forward to going to the Sand Dunes ever since I decided to do my fieldwork in Alamosa. It goes back to high school, when I discovered from the best anatomy teacher in the world, Mr. Gigliotti, that you can ride down the dunes on a ski. I bought some cheap skis at that point at never ended up going. At some point, I must have given them away because I couldn’t find them in preparation for this trip at all. I brought down my snow skate (a long plastic board just a bit shorter than my long skateboard) in hopes that it would work just as well.


It finally came time for me to go to the dunes, and I packed much lighter this time around, having learned from my Zapata Falls adventure. I headed out by 8:30 on Saturday morning because the sand can reach temperatures of upwards of 140 degrees so it’s best to visit the dunes in the morning or the evening.
The drive went quickly, and I was struck by the amount of smoke in the air. In case you don’t know, Colorado is currently on fire, and the smoke from the various infernos around the state has been pooling in the valley, giving the air the scent of camp fires and making the sunsets a beautiful blood red that almost makes you forget the damage being done to forests, homes, and lives.

The sand dunes and the mountains, shrouded in smoke

I arrived at the national park to find that I was apparently late for visiting the dunes. Families of all different shapes and sizes were trekking across the dry bed of Medano Creek (which only runs for a few weeks out of the year) towards the massive, towering dunes.  I had visited the sand dunes twice as a child, but we had never made it onto the dunes themselves. This is because blowing sand hurts and as a kid, that matters more than climbing on big hills of sand. I gathered my things, including my snow skate which I shoved through the straps of my backpack against my back, and headed out.

Self portrait starting out, just to prove I was there. Look how optimistic!

One of the MANY families at the dunes that day.

I discovered something then that I had known but forgotten living in a state that has more gravel than sand: it’s really hard and tiring to walk on sand. I mean really hard. Add to that an elevation that is about a thousand feet higher than what I was already living at in Alamosa, the temperature, which was slowly rising despite how early in the day it was, and to be honest, being not in the best shape (but I’m WORKING on it!), and I was quickly reevaluating my original goal of climbing to the top of High Dune, which, at 650 feet, is still 100 feet shy of being the highest dune in the park but appears to be the highest when you’re coming from the parking lot. 

Dunes with the mountains behind

I got across the stream bed and started up the first dune I came to. It was not easy going. This revealed to me a perk about adventuring alone: no one can hear you gasp for breath. And I was. It was wonderfully difficult, and I was instantly in love with this place. After I reached the top, I surveyed the families sledding down the dunes and decided that it was time to try out the snow skate. The website had said that this sort of thing is much better after a rain, which had not occurred. The skate didn’t move at all. I decided that since I lugged this thing across the stream bed, which I was not about to cross until I was ready to leave, I would use the skate as a chair.

So much sand!

After a short rest, I took off towards the larger dunes. I wanted to get higher, to see more, to conquer this place that was wearing me out. I sent my dad a text saying I was on the dunes, and he called me. It was weird to talk on the phone with someone while on a landscape so foreign. I texted a picture to my friend Kendall with the caption “Guess where I am right now. . .” She replied, “The Sahara Desert???” I wish. 

After climbing around, taking pictures, and resting a bit, I started down. The wind picked up and started blowing sand in my face. This was the sand dunes that I remember. Painful. I made the mistake of standing downwind of the top of a dune to make room for the largest family in the world to slowly pass. It was not pleasant. As I continued down, a man with a pack, a floppy brimmed hat, and trekking poles passed me at a respectable clip. “How is the boarding?” he asked.

“It didn’t work.” I replied.

“Oh no! And you brought that all the way up here! Well, I’m sure you can get wax for it!” he said, and continued bopping up the hill.

Tiny people playing on the dune

Tracks

Glory!

Going down the dunes is much quicker and more fun than climbing up. I got to my car before deciding to find the Escape Dunes, which is an area where the dunes are overtaking a forest. The sand surrounds the white skeletons of dead trees. Sounds awesome. After getting directions from a park ranger and discovering that it required 4 wheel drive to get to (which I totally HAVE!) I set off.

At first the 4 wheeling was fun. I absolutely love bouncing down crazy rough roads, so I was laughing and having a lovely time. I happily passed the sign saying “Point of No Return. 4 Wheel Drive required beyond this point. Strictly enforced.” A family was hiking by the road and the son was on the other side. I stopped to let them cross, but they waved me on. The stop proved to be a mistake. As I attempted to continue on, my car sunk in the deep sand. I tried to switch into 4WD low, but couldn’t. I opened the door and said, “Well it looks like I’m stuck!” to the  family.

“You shouldn’t have stopped for us.” the father said.

“You think?” I thought. He told me to put the car in neutral and then try to switch into low. It worked, but the spinning of my tires just made me sink deeper.

It was then that a phenomenon that I’ve experienced on every occasion where I have had car trouble happened again. Men started appearing. They emerged from seemingly nowhere, climbing over trees and rocks in an effort to prove their manhood through getting me out of the sand pit.

A couple of large fellows started digging behind my front tires and putting branches and rocks behind them. Three SUVs full of men appeared from behind me, and the front SUV fortunately had a wench. Forest rangers appeared. I barely had to do anything. The rocks and branches didn’t work. My tires spun uselessly in the sand, creating sand geysers taller than my car. We all pushed as one of the fellows drove. Nothing happened. Finally we hooked up the wench to my rear bumper and that worked. I thanked them all, shook their hands, and hightailed it out of there. That was more than enough excitement for one day. The Escape Dunes would have to wait until the next day. I decided to hike to them. 

Until next time. . . 

The Stations of the Cross Shrine, San Luis, CO

The day after my waterfall hike, I decided to go to San Luis and see the Stations of the Cross Shrine. It’s a beautiful, winding hike up a hill with the Stations of the Cross depicted in large bronze statues. The guide book says that the statues are life size, which I take to mean that people were MUCH smaller back in Jesus’ day. Historical accuracy is always nice.

Anyway, San Luis is a 45 minute drive from Alamosa, and it is a nice one. With views of mountains all around the valley, any drive anywhere is nice. The beginning of the trail to the shrine is clearly marked, and there is parking across the street.

Well marked! 

Trail head

I wanted to go here especially because it was something my mom loved. I remember going as a kid and finding it interesting for about five minutes before I moved on. But my mom lingered at each Station, admiring the work and reflecting on the moment depicted. She took pictures of each statue, and there was a whole section of the picture book of our trip dedicated to it. So part of this was a religious and reflective time, and part of it was a tribute to my mother.

Getting started, pre-eye incident

I was about 200 yards up the trail when I something caught my eye. That's not quite right. Something got IN my eye. Now if you’ve spent any amount of time with me, you realize that this isn’t exactly a rare occurrence. I think my eyes are magnets for dust and dirt and anything unpleasant that will cause me pain. But on occasion I get stuff in my eye so insidious that no amount of blinking will get out whatever it is. It always feels like a needle is stabbing me, and washing out my contact is the only way to go. On a trail without a restroom, this is not a convenient occurrence. I stood, paralyzed for a time, blinking, tearing up, and trying to make a decision. Finally I decided to go to a gas station that I could barely see through my tears. I hiked down, crossed the street, and entered the ancient building. Fortunately the facilities were clean and I worked out my eye issue quickly. I bought some Sweet Tarts so that the owner wouldn’t think I was super tacky, and headed back to the trail.

One of the Stations where Jesus stumbles

Jesus talks to his mother

View of the top of the hill and the church

Jesus is crucified 

Jesus is risen from the dead

The front of the church

This time, everything went off without a hitch. I saw very few people on the trail, which gave me time to appreciate each station. Like Mom did, I took pictures of each statue. (Technically this may not have been allowed, but I chose to interpret the sign at the beginning of the trail to mean that I can't make money off of any pictures I took, which I never intended to anyway.)  I reflected on the beauty of the work, the intensity of the moment in Jesus' life that is depicted, the beauty of the view, and how it seems sacrilegious that they have not hosed the bird doo off the statues. The hike isn’t hard, and I made it to the top in under a half-hour including reflecting time. I went inside the church and spent a few minutes looking around. It’s a lovely building with stucco walls, wooden pews, and a vaulted ceiling. I sat on the back pew, determined to spend some time in prayer and reflection, but then I heard voices approaching the door. I decided I could do better prayer and reflection outside, and headed out. I pushed open the door slowly because it opened outwards and I didn’t want to hit anyone in the face. I emerged to find a couple of older ladies, probably mother and daughter, who looked a little concerned. The daughter said, “I thought the door was opening by itself!”

“That would be interesting.” I replied.

“That would be scary!” she answered.

The inside of the church

The statue that reminded me of the Weeping Angels

After eating my lunch, I looked at some of the other statues that were around the grounds at the top of the hill. They were mostly of monks whose names I didn’t recognize. There was one of a woman, and I wanted to take my picture with it, but when I got closer it reminded me of the Weeping Angles from Doctor Who so I just took a picture quickly and moved on. I decided to check out an area that was a tribute to the Mexican Martyrs. I had no idea that this was a thing, so I was interested to see what it was about. Apparently during the 1920s, quite a few Catholic priests were killed in Mexico. The area had a trail around which were busts of the priests and plaques telling each of their stories. I didn’t plan on reading them all, but they were all pretty riveting. At the high point of this shrine, there was what appeared to be an alter, and behind it was a statue of Jesus writing in a book. I am assuming it was the Book of Life, but I really don’t know.

The entrance to the shrine for the Mexican Martyrs. The wall on the right has bullet holes and "blood" on it, as many of the martyrs were killed by firing squad.  

Statue of Jesus, presumably writing in the Book of Life.

After that, I checked out the Grotto, which had a statue of Mary and some guy kneeling before her. Hiking back from that, I noticed a trail heading off away from the church and the path I needed to take to get down. I had to see where it went. Where it went was a labyrinth! The path wound around in a fairly complicated circle. I followed it to the middle and back. It was cool and made me more happy than was necessary, I think.

The Grotto

The labyrinth, viewed from uphill a ways so that you can see how it goes.

View from the top

The path

After that, I had pretty much exhausted my options for poking around the hill, so I hiked down and went home. Overall it was a nice time. Not too hard of a hike, and I enjoyed it even though I’m not Catholic. If you’re in the area, I would recommend checking it out!

Zapata Falls

Zapata Falls is an easy hike just a bit south of the Great Sand Dunes. My dad suggested it to me, and I thought that it seemed like a good and easy way to ease into this adventure having that I have decided to do this summer. It was about a 45 minute drive to get to the trail head from Alamosa, during which I saw three large dust devils. That was exciting for me, as I am a giant nerd about tornados and anything that is related to them.

The trail head to the falls is at the top of a long, twisting gravel road that climbs up the foot of Mount Blanca. At the top I parked among quite a few other cars, situated my stuff, and began my hike.

Getting started!

The San Luis Valley

The trail up the mountain

The first thing I noticed was that I over packed. I have a tendency to do that, and I am pretty sure one doesn’t need food, a camelback bladder of water, two extra water bottles, and several layers of clothing for the half mile hike to the falls. In my defense, I didn’t know how short the hike was when I had packed for it, and I was debating going to the Sand Dunes afterwards and didn’t know how long I’d be gone for. Apparently I assumed it would be several days. Ah well, better safe than sorry.

The afternoon was beautiful, with some slightly ominous clouds blocking out the sun and making for a cooler hike. It was perfect for my first solo hike, perhaps ever. I usually have at least one friend with me, but today it was just me, God, and the mountain. Also, at least 30 other hikers, as this is apparently a pretty popular destination for visitors to the park, and particularly those with young children. A family with four young daughters passed me heading down. The girls were wrapped in towels and talking excitedly about what they just experienced. I heard one tell her dad, “That was worth the whole trip!” I got more excited about my destination and continued on, despite a sneaking suspicion that I was over dressed. As I worked my way up the path, I felt a few light raindrops hit my face and reflected that I left my raincoat in the car. Fortunately that did not amount to much. Then I heard thunder. I got instantly paranoid, as people get struck by lightning in Colorado more often than they should. I decided to press onward since I figured I was nearing the falls, but I listened carefully for more thunder. Fortunately I heard none. What I did begin to hear was thunder of a different sort.  

You can hear the falls before you can see them. That always seems the case with waterfalls. As I neared them, listening to their roar, I saw a sign warning against swimming. It made me flash back to my hike to Boti Falls in Ghana. (If you want to read about that: http://itinerantbarista.blogspot.com/2009/11/ghananana-ghananana-heeeey-goodbye.html)

The warning sign

I took some pictures of the ravine that lead to the falls, and debated wading over to get a good look at them. I didn’t want to get my boots wet, but then a couple of guys appeared down the trail heading my way. I didn’t want to look dumb in front of the strangers, plus I heard echoes of people laughing inside the ravine, so I started carefully picking my way along the wall of rock, heading towards the falls. I managed to make it into the cavernous interior, where the roar of the falls echoed off the walls and through my entire being. Mist from the water filled the air. A couple of other guys were playing in the water. I decided I would have to return in Chacos so that I could actually feel comfortable getting my feet wet. After enjoying the power of the water for a while, I picked my way carefully out of the cavern.

A dark picture of the ravine leading to the falls

A blurry picture of the falls and some people playing in it. None of the pictures I got were clear.

Once outside, I saw a large family attempting to get to the falls. I did my best to keep out of their way as they worked their way past me, helping a small girl who smiled bravely at me as her parents directed her steps. I passed everyone and was feeling pretty good, until I slipped. My right foot plunged into water up to my knee. My butt and back hit the wall, and my left foot got a little wet too. I recovered as gracefully as I could manage and worked my way the last few yards out of the stream to assess the damage. I had an intense internal debate on whether or not to wring out my sock then and there or wait until the car. I settled on waiting and started down. One of the guys who was playing in the water, a tan fellow who looked to be about 25, was having a cigarette and waiting for his friends. He looked very excited about his experiences, and he stopped me to ask if I had hiked over above the falls. I had investigated that path but decided against it because my foot was wet and it was really steep. I told him that I hadn’t but probably would next time. He said, “My friends did, but I had sandals on. I’m definitely coming back to do that!” I agreed with him on that fact and began my hike down.

The damage

The trail heading above the falls

About 200 yards down the path, I realized that I had lost a water bottle, most likely during my unexpected dip in the river. Fighting back irritation, I practically sprinted back and assessed the stream. I sort of expected that it was lost forever, and I sure didn’t see it. I was a little bummed because I hate losing things and I really liked that water bottle, but what else could I do? I sloshed down the trail towards my car, and ended up driving home before I took off my gross wet sock.

View of the Great Sand Dunes

Overall I enjoyed the hike. It was quick and pretty easy, which made it perfect for an afternoon. It offered beautiful views of the Great Sand Dunes and the San Luis Valley, which make it worth the trip alone. Plus, it’s pretty easy for children, so if you have kids and are in the area, it is an activity you should consider. And if you do go, keep your eyes open for a white metal water bottle. It’s mine.