Getting to the Great Sand Dunes National Park was a lot more fun in theory. It’s about a 30-minute drive from Alamosa, Colorado, with a scenic road that tricked us into thinking we were in for a relaxing day. We were greeted by miles of wild sunflowers on either side, waving at us like, “Hey, you’re going to need this calm before the sandstorm hits!” These dunes are no joke. We’re talking 750 feet tall—the biggest in North America—and I was both excited and nervous for what was about to go down… or up, in this case.
How Did All This Sand Get Here?
Well, here’s a quick history lesson before we get to the part where we regret all of our life decisions. About 440,000 years ago, after a giant lake in the San Luis Valley dried up (thanks, climate change), the winds picked up and blew sand toward the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, forming the giant sand trap we were about to dive into.
Arriving at the Dunes
The park ranger, with a twinkle of mischief in their eye, handed us a map and probably knew we were woefully unprepared in our flip-flops. After watching a film at the visitor center that made us feel like geologists, we headed to the dunes themselves. From a distance, they looked like inviting, golden hills. Close up? More like the Sahara, minus the camels but with 10x the struggle. It’s been 20 years since I last visited the park, and while the dunes look the same as I remember, I know for a fact they’re constantly shifting across the valley, trapped by the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.
The First Steps into Doom
We optimistically left the car in sandals, because why not? The Medano Creek, which usually runs through the dunes, had dried up—so we thought, “How bad could it be?” The answer: Bad. Real bad. Walking on the sand was like trying to hike through quicksand while being slowly cooked from the ground up. Every step felt like we were training for an Olympic sport no one asked us to compete in. Some people had their dogs, babies, and even toddlers in tow. At one point, we wondered if they knew something we didn’t. Spoiler alert: They did.
The Sand: Hotter Than Satan’s Sauna
We soldiered on for about 45 minutes before the realization hit us: the sand was hot enough to fry an egg, and our feet were slowly turning into toast. Did I mention the temperature of the sand can reach 140 degrees? Fun fact that we learned the hard way. We saw a few brave souls attempting to summit the dunes, but a lot of them were already giving up and heading back to the safety of their air-conditioned cars. Clearly, we didn’t get the memo.
An Old Couple and Sand Sledding Shenanigans
Just when we were about to surrender, we met an old couple from Northern California. These two legends handed over a sand sled to our kids, who proceeded to forget all the suffering and had the time of their lives zooming down the dunes. The couple watched, probably thinking, “Suckers,” as they knew full well we’d be dealing with sand in every possible body crevice for the next week.
Turning Back: The Great Descent
After about 30 minutes of kids face-planting into the sand and filling every orifice with grit, we decided to call it a day. We had barely scratched the surface of the 30 square miles of dunes, and honestly, that was okay by us. Walking back was like trying to escape a desert mirage. Every step was a tiny victory, but hey, at least going downhill was slightly easier… unless you counted the parts where we sank into the sand like it was swallowing us whole.
Zapata Falls: Our Next Adventure
With the sand dunes behind us (literally), we made our way to Zapata Falls. If you haven’t been, go. Seriously. You’ll forget about the sand and laugh at how unprepared we were. But that’s a story for another time.
Pro tip: Next time, we’ll bring sneakers and leave the flip-flops for the beach.
(P.S. The park is open 24/7, 365 days a year—for those who feel brave enough to take on the dunes… or just want to laugh at other people’s misfortune.)
