August 30, 2021
The campground was very quiet and everyone abided by the rules that no generators be run after 10:00 pm or before 8:00 am – except, inexplicably, the campground host who woke people around 6:30 am with his generator. It wasn’t an issue for us since we were already awake.
We broke camp early and headed to the park. When we arrived, the visitors center wasn’t open so we weren’t able to pick up a park map. It turned out a map wasn’t needed since there’s just one road in the park and one main hiking area.
We followed the road until we reached the picnic area and stopped for breakfast. Afterwards, we found hiking information posted at the nearby main parking area, applied sunscreen, filled our water bottles and set off.
We were at about 9,000 feet elevation and it was a bit chilly when we started out on the trail up the dunes—the word “trail” being loosely used as there was nothing marked. In front of us were the tallest sand dunes in the U.S., stretching a mile into the distance, a couple of miles wide, and nearly 700 feet high.
To reach the dunes, hikes typically must first ford seasonal Medano Creek, formed from snowmelt high in the nearby Sangre de Cristo mountains. But with the drought there was instead a mile of warm sand and a few grasses between the parking lot and the dunes.
After crossing the large flat swath of sand, we began to plow up the first dune, struggling two steps up and one step back in the soft sand. Only a few others were already climbing the dune, some carrying wooden sand boards used to slide down the giant dunes.
After a couple more false summits, we reached the top of the dunes. It consisted of a long dune ridge with steep 2-300-foot drop offs on either side. Falling wouldn’t be painful, and might even be fun in the soft sand, but the climb back up would be tough.
As we trudged across the summit, we looked out at endless dunes that stretched out for miles. Beyond the dunes in multiple directions there were mountain peaks nearly 14,000 feet high.
We sat on the ridge to rest while we watched two people slide down the tallest part of the dune, going much faster than I would have expected. A refreshing breeze blew at the top and we cooled off in the 60-degree temperature while we guzzled more water.
The trip down was much easier, though we had to stop twice to empty our light hiking boots of sand – so packed were they that it felt like we were wearing two sizes too small. Some twenty-somethings hiking up the dunes asked us how much farther it was to the top. When we said another hour, their faces fell and they decided not to continue.
Back at the parking lot, we dumped more sand out of our boots and used the foot showers to clean our feet before we headed out of the park. It was a good thing we were heading to a hotel tonight as we were sweaty and still sandy.
We left the park and drove for about an hour and a half to the small town of Salida, CO, looking for a place to stay. One place was outrageously expensive and one never answered the phone so we left for Gunnison, another hour or so away.
We’d stayed in Gunnison back in March when we were heading home from an abbreviated trip to New Mexico and were keen to explore the area. We found a small inexpensive hotel to clean up, crash and plan for the next few days. Gunnison, we found, was a stopover for many campers, van-lifers, motorcyclists and other adventurous people like us and we liked the little college town. We enjoyed dinner out at a popular local restaurant/saloon before turning in for the night.