Duned from the Start

We went in without much of a plan. All we really knew was that we wouldn’t be taking the normal jaunt from the backside of the visitor center. We decided to grab a backcountry permit to spend a couple of nights in the dunefield and go from there. At some point while filling out the paperwork, the ranger warned us that April is their windiest month. Perfect, I thought. Just what I was looking for. We were also told that the sand gets twice as hot as the air temperature. It was going to be in the 50s and 60s and I’m good at math so I didn’t think that would be all that hot. We got deep into the dunes and set up camp. Shot sunset and sunrise the next day. Just how Colorado likes it, we were treated to blue skies and a warm sun in the late morning. Make no bones about it: this was sweet. Excited, we packed up and got deeper into the dunes for the second day of our adventure.

Snow capped mountains and sand dunes? Yup. You have found yourself in Colorado. Nature is so hot.

But the sun wouldn’t relent. I was hopeful to no avail when a few lone clouds created shadows in the distance that never reached us. With no clouds, no trees, and nowhere to hide, I gave in and decided to stay put for awhile. I put down my backpack and covered as much skin as possible. This was no time for sun exposure therapy. With the randomness in my backpack, I came up with what I consider to be the best outfit for dune slaying. Down below we had exposed long johns tucked into socks with shorts layered on. Up top I went with a long sleeve shirt, wind proof gloves, hat, buff covering my neck up to my eyeballs, and the secret weapon: ski goggles. Blowing sand be damned. Ski goggles made this trip a joy.

Fully covered, I started enjoying myself again. I laid down, lightly meandered around, and took a few frames here and there. But mostly I sat back and watched the show. My traveling partner and fellow photographer, Jacob Hanson, had other ideas. I watched as he climbed three or four of America’s tallest dunes. I watched as he set up his tent in between them. And then I saw him go in. And then out. Then back in. Then back out. I gathered that it must have been like an oven on top of a stove in there. After a while and from more than a few dunes away, I went over to check on him. You could say he was done. It went a little something like this:

“I’m done with the sun. I’m done with the sand. I’m done with the wind. I’m done with this trip.” I asked him if he wanted to pack up and head home when we reached the car. “Yes.” Roger that. In between, some clouds rolled in, sunset happened, and a moonlit hike to get closer to the trailhead ensued. When we got back to the car the next morning, we headed straight to the backcountry office and grabbed a permit for a couple more nights.