The Great Sand Dunes tradition

When I stepped into seasonal Medano Creek in May 2019, I wondered if I might ever visit again. So I stayed in those chilly snow-fed waters as long as I could stand the chill. 

 Little did I know what the dunes would become. On the Friday opening Memorial Day weekend – not for the first time – I rumbled down the lonely road that dead-ended at the dunes and the northeast corner of the San Luis Valley. 

For the third time, and the first visit for Meg, I left the Springs at a ridiculously early hour. She soldiered out for a 3 a.m. departure, far before anyone else stirred in my neighborhood. Daylight arrived as we crested La Veta Pass, few other cars in sight. 

A bank of clouds hid the peaks above the dunes. Blanca Peak was there to remind us of its august beauty even if the snow had melted above its treeline faster than previous years. 

I have seen sunrise at the dunes three times. I have never seen it this empty. We cruised through the empty guard shack, parked in a mostly empty lot, and stepped onto the swift-moving waters of Medano Creek with no more than a half-dozen people in view. That is solitude for a national park this close to major cities. 

We didn’t venture far along the creek. While it was only 80 percent of normal flow for that day, the water seemed to run faster and deeper. They are magical waters, but not waters that anyone should mess with. What seems like a few inches could be deeper, and the surges could push you down in it. I have seen cell phones swept away in seconds. I had to dip my feet in. I could not convince Meg to do so. But the cold was stiff, stiffer than I remembered. I think of it as an annual purification from the waters of Medano Creek, fed by snowmelt deep in the mountains. 

We took a short hike along Mosca Creek, a creek that runs up to a pass in the mountains that I hiked years ago with Tim. The waters rushed along a narrow but steep channel. It was still calm and cool. As the exited the park around 10 a.m., no line had queued at the guard shack. That shocked me. 

We had a hearty breakfast at a cafe in Blanca then crossed the pass and headed back to the Springs. 

Later in the weekend, I spotted the horror stories on social media. Three-hour waits to get past the entry station. Capacity crowds. People arrived in the heat of the day, when beating sun heats the dunes to a foot-scalding 140 degrees Fahrenheit or more. 

This was not the Great Sand Dunes I know, nor will I let it become that for me. I will stick with the shifting shadows and colors of dawn on the creek and the dunes, the sight too few will ever see. 

Go early to the Sand Dunes. Make your own fate. Maybe complain a little less. Your feet will thank you. Outside summer, you can pretty much visit freely without any line. But I suppose that creek experience will always be the driver. 

 Personally, I’m fine doing my driving to the dunes in the pre-dawn hours. If the season is right, the dunes and their majestic creek will be ready.