Blue skies. Bluer than you ever remember seeing. So blue that you wouldn't be surprised if someone told you that the sky had been electronically enhanced -- some sort of super Adobe Photoshop trick of the sky.

Then there's the sand. Dunes hundreds of feet high. Reminiscent of the Sahara or the Mojave. You watch the ground as grains march along thousands at a time -- like a giant hour glass counting the seconds but from left to right instead of top to bottom. You feel the sun radiate from the surface. On this warm day you would expect to see Sir Lawrence himself or a tribe of Bedouin. So you scan the horizon and see...

Snow-capped peaks.

This is Colorado. And it's wintertime. Which means that if it isn't currently snowing, then the sun is out warming and melting everything in sight.

So it was that during a visit to southern Colorado in January, I decided to do something different. The recent six-inch snowfall was melting fast at the lower elevations. The wind was strong up in the high country. The sky was just as I mentioned, so I decided to make the most of the winter sun by visiting one of the lesser known national parks in the state and the country. I was going to hike some sand dunes.

Most people don't expect to see 750-foot-tall sand dunes pushed up against the base of snow-capped peaks. Even when I first read about the park two decades ago (then a national monument), I didn't believe sand dunes could exist in Colorado -- especially giant dunes reminiscent of Arabia or some distant planet from Star Wars. I was skeptical back then until I got within about 10 miles of the park. That's when I had my first view.

The dunes are formed by sand carried into the valley by streams and rivers in the San Juan Mountains to the west. A long time ago, the San Luis Valley was the scene of huge shallow lakes. As the climate in the valley and the mountains above became drier over the centuries, the lakes dried up and the sediment blew to the east with the prevailing winds. The sand piled up in dunes against the western side of the Sangre De Cristo Mountains as winds weren't strong enough to lift them over 9,750-foot Mosca Pass or 10,030-foot Medano Pass. Creeks on the western side of these mountains return the sand to the base of the dunes. The result of this cyclical process is what you see today. 

If I didn't know to be on the lookout for any dunes, the tan-colored sand might not have caught my eye until I was closer to the park. The first glimpse is of lower dunes only a few hundred feet tall. But a few miles from the park entrance, you begin to get a better perspective of the taller dunes resting below Mt. Herard (13,297 feet - listed as Mt. Seven on some maps).

The name of the mountain changed in 1984 when it was renamed for Ulysses Herard who homesteaded in Medano Canyon in the 1870s.  

The booth at the park entrance isn't staffed in the winter, so I proceeded to the newly expanded visitor center, which is worth stopping at to learn some biology and geology of the park. Besides the standard amenities of bathrooms, books, park video and displays, visitors can learn about challenges of hiking on the dunes, four-wheeling to Medano Pass, and can even rent sand-dune-compatible wheel chairs.

I could have taken my dog Taiya on the dunes with a leash, but left her in the truck since a leashed dog and a big camera on a tripod can result in some very blurry, but expensive, photographs. Winter temperatures are much cooler than summertime, but at 8200 feet on a sunny day, I was glad that I left the windows cracked for some ventilation.

Shortly after leaving the parking lot the trail meets Medano Creek, which is dry in the winter. In the spring and summer people wade in the wide shallow stream to cool their feet from the hot sand. At this point, the marked trail ends and hikers need to look back frequently to maintain an accurate idea of where the parking lot is. It is not easily visible from the dunes!

The temperature of the sand in the winter was comfortable. In the summer, hiking boots are recommended as the surface of the sand can reach 140 degrees. Wearing sandals or walking barefoot in the summer risks burning your feet and your pet's as well.

Most of the previous day's snow had melted on the dunes, but occasional strips of white could be seen on a few ridge lines. In other places, the snow on ridgelines had been covered with a thin layer of sand, causing punch through when walked upon.

As I approached the dunes, I made a mental map of which dune I was heading for and which route I would take. Hikers should keep their route flexible as the distant topography can remain hidden behind closer dunes.

While hiking on the dunes, I observed three different sizes of sand. Some grains were rather large. Most of the grains were a medium size. And there were occasions where very fine-grained light-colored sand rested on top.

Usually the surface was smooth, but occasionally the surface showed ripples that ran perpendicular to the prevailing winds.

Very little vegetation exists on the dunes, but from time to time your path will lead you near grasses that support small mammals, like the kangaroo rat.

As for large mammals, I saw a few homo sapien tracks from earlier in the day, but no one else was visible on the 30 square miles of dunes during my two-hour hike.

Hiking on the sand in the winter after a recent snow was easier than I had encountered in my two previous summer visits nine and 20 years earlier. As long as I stuck to the ridgelines where sand and snow collect in drifts, the moisture a few inches beneath the surface from yesterday's snow was still frozen from overnight temperatures. This kept the sand from shifting much under my feet.

It is common in the summertime to slide down one step for every two steps upward. Dune hiking can be tiring.

My initial plan was to hike to a high point on a ridge that was somewhat east of High Dune (8691 feet). I had hiked to High Dune before and wanted to see a different vantage point. Somehow, I still ended up on High Dune as this point ended up being closer to the trailhead and with less loss of elevation along the ridgelines.

Some visitors may be confused about terminology used at the park. Star Dune is listed as the tallest dune because the total vertical rise from base to summit is the greatest. Although it is the tallest dune, its elevation is 74 feet lower than High Dune. Even more confusing is that a few of the dunes closer to the Sangre De Cristo Mountains are higher still in elevation, but perspective on the dunes makes this hard to see.

Once on top of High Dune, I had no more terrain to block the wind and was quickly reminded that a sunny winter day can quickly turn cold when you're standing 750 feet above a valley floor that rests at an impressive 8200 feet. The nearby town of Alamosa frequently sets the wintertime low temperature in the contiguous 48 states due to the high elevation of the valley and the surrounding peaks ranging from 12,000 to over 14,000 feet to the north, east and west.

Cold air from these high peaks sinks down into the valley at night and can cause temperature inversions.

The sky was so clear on this day that none of my photos were shot with a polarizing filter. There simply wasn't any haze in the sky - no moisture, and no smoke from summer fires. A faint bit of haze could be seen far off to the north as high clouds began to move in with the next cold front. The winds were steady, though, and I was only able to fire off two rolls of black and white film and two rolls of color film before my gloved fingers began to freeze from contact with my metal camera and tripod.
 
Once down below the highest dune, I warmed up quickly in the afternoon sun as I was no longer exposed to the full force of the west wind. Most of my footprints were blown over, so it was good that I periodically checked to locate the direction of the trailhead while ascending the dunes. When I was nearly down to the lowest dunes, some tracks caught my eye.

The tracks led to one of the grass oases on the dunes and were probably made by a kangaroo rat.

I was back to the parking lot about two hours after I first set out -- a very fast time due to optimum sand conditions and my recent two to four mile hill runs each day in Alaska and Colorado. Taiya was happy to see me when I got back.

I apologized for not taking her out to enjoy the dunes literally all to ourselves and promised to bring her back to the national preserve portion of the park -- a remote area best approached from the east and a subject for a future article.

And maybe the chance for another day with our own private park.

Rich Stromberg is the editor and publisher of Rocky Mountain Magazine and is the owner of alaskacolorado.com - a fine art landscape photography business. He is currently pursuing a journalism degree at the University of Alaska Anchorage.

Additional Information
Park Web site - http://www.nps.gov/grsa/home.htm
Park Map
Phone number - 719-378-6300
Most services in and near the park are available from April through October.
All services are available from May through September.
Alamosa, Fort Garland and other nearby towns offer gas, food and lodging.
 

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