Mississippi River Trip: Tea in the Sahara

Or at the Great Sand Dunes, which is the next best thing.  We got up this morning (late) and it was already HOT.  The temp today was expected to hit 103 and it was well on the way by 10AM.  We wanted to check out a nearby state park (the name escapes me) that boasted swimming and fishing so we packed up everything but the tent and sleeping gear and headed for the park. 

We rolled in with the temp touching 99 degrees and were both very excited about the prospect of getting in a good swim.  The dusty gravel road kicked up a trail as I raced to our mid-day hang out.  The lake was hidden by a small berm and cluttered by picnic areas, so we jumped out of the car and raced to the shore. . .which was about 400 feet closer to the center of the lake than usual.   The drought in the area had shrunk the lake to the size of a large mud puddle!

Always thinking on our feet, we’d decided to make Zapata Falls our back-up location, so we meandered down the road and up the mountain and hiked to the falls.  We weren’t the only folks with that bright idea.  Our first sight was six little girls ranging in ages from maybe 3 to six sitting on a shady bench eating PBJs while the cool waterfall breeze washed over them.  Their parents were on a bench across form them, and around the corner were another 60 or so people.  Larisa and I went up to see the falls, then found some bench space to snack on lunch.  I talked to a group of young adults who were on a field trip from the Denver area for summer camp (the Denver Zoo has a summer camp, who’da thunk it?) and Larisa snapped a few pictures. 

I made some sun tea while we were driving around, with the plan of cooling it in the stream.  Worked like a charm – icy cold tea in 100 degree weather.  Mmm Mmm Good.

Dissatisfied with the crowds we headed downstream about a hundred yards and found a man-made pool.  The pool feeds into a big pipe that heads in the direction of Great Sand Dunes and presumably provides fresh water for the place.  We didn’t like that, but we also don’t have to find water for campers and toilets and everything else for the park.  It is a desert after all.   Since the cool breeze from the waterfall doesn’t extend down that far we got into the pool – me first (I wimped out when it got to mid-belly), then Larisa, who worked her way in slowly, screaming like a little girl the whole way.  In truth, the only reason I didn’t so the same thing when I got in was because I thought my lungs would explode.  I got a great video of Larisa though.  Getting out was better than getting in.  The glacier fed stream kept us cools for at least twenty minutes after getting out, despite the high air temperatures.  Wonderful feeling!!

We hung around the falls for the rest of the afternoon, waiting out the heat.  When it began to cools we went back to Great sand Dunes and did the Visitor’s Center (as usual, fantastic work by the National Park Service).  Around 6:30 it had cooled enough to do the one hike we really wanted to do – the dunes themselves, all the way to the top!  The largest dune tops out at 750 feet – imagine that!  I thought the dunes at the outer banks were huge when I was a kid, but they’re nothing compared to Great Sand Dunes.  We headed up, pausing often for pictures (translation: pausing to catch our breath, which was in short supply).  I took a route that looked better and wound up struggling up a 200 foot dune in soft sand.  At the top I emptied my hiking shoes of sand – there was enough to make a small dune of my own!

We heard a rumble of thunder in the distance an saw a storm headed our way, but judged that we’d have enough time to finish the hike.  We were right, but only because of the unique geography of the area.  The storm came across the plains to our south, bounced against the mountains, rode them north to another range, and headed back across the plain, only to repeat the process.  In other words, a storm circled the dunes area without ever coming near us.  It was kind of cool to watch. 

Larisa and I met up again and planned the rest of our route.  Up one sandy ridge (maybe 600 feet high), then catch the next ridge to the highest dune.  At the top of our first rest point we decided to turn back.  What looked like a continuous ridge from below actually turned out to be it’s own huge dune, and the ~300 foot drop into a steep sided dune valley decided us.  Quite frankly, if we’d gone down, we’d still be there.  The dune edges were so steep as to be almost vertical, and we didn’t think we could climb out safely.  We weren’t the only ones who decided that, though one group pressed on in a different direction. 

We watched the storm for a while and began to head down.  Returning to my childhood days of racing full speed down the dunes at Kitty Hawk, I handed Larisa my shoes and took off!  It was like flying, and I made it down the six hundred foot dune in about 100 leaps.  Larisa snapped pictures as I went, worrying all the while that I’d break something.  She met me at the bottom and we headed back to the car, tired but happy with our hike.  We both slept like the dead.

Mississippi River Trip: Like Sands in the Hourglass. . .

. . .so are the sands of the Great Sand Dune National Park.  We hit Great Sand Dunes National Park in the late afternoon with the temperature hovering around 102.  We checked out the campground, and then hounded the rangers for some alternate camping options.  GSD was crowded and high priced.  One ranger suggested we head up to the BLM campground at Zapata Falls, about eight miles from the park.  Our plan was to go there, get set up, and catch the dunes as the sun was setting. 

The campground was easy enough to find – go straight from the park and hang a left at the sign.  The road was a little rough so I took it slowly, not wanting to subject the Impala to any more abuse than she had gotten so far this trip (Earlier in the day we calculated that we’d put 6 months of mileage on her in 30 days).  At the top we drove around looking for a campsite – not because of crowding but because most didn’t have any shade.  Larisa found one she wanted that sat on the edge of the campground on an exposed point.  I worried about wind, but finally decided to set up in the place because of the fantastic view and because Larisa began talking in that tone of voice tha tells me it’s time to feed her.  We didn’t eat at the tent though – bear activity is very high in that area and there were several spotted in the campground area.  We elected instead to take our meal at an overlook point near the trail to the falls.  We munched cheese and crackers and fruit and enjoyed a spectacular view of the valley below – including the great sand dunes themselves. 

Both of us were a little stiff and grumpy from being in the car all day, so we decided to take the short hike up to Zapata Falls instead of getting back in the car to go see the park.  As we were gathering our cameras and water a family coming down from the falls began chatting with us.  They told us the not well kept “secret” of the falls.  When you arrive at the end of the trail there is a small waterfall about 6 feet high.  The actual falls require another quarter mile of rock hopping to a cleft in the rocks.  When you go through the cleft you are rewarded with a beautiful 40 foot high waterfall that feeds into a small pool with a 10 or 12 foot waterfall at the base.  Also, you get treated to a cool blast of nature’s air conditioning.

In the cave and leading up to it the temperature drops about thirty degrees thanks to the air displaced by the glacier fed waters to the falls.  The water is very cold – so much so that after standing in it for a couple of minutes to snap pictures both Larisa and I had toes so chilly that they hurt.  We took what pictures the light would allow and went to sit near the end of the hiking area to let our toes warm up.  As the sun began to go down we went back to the overlook and watched the sun set on the valley from our 1500 foot vantage point.  Tired and satisfied, we went back to camp and slept peacefully. . . until the wind came up.

I’ve mentioned it before, but our tent is noisy when it’s windy.  When we get winds like we got that night, it sounds like a freight train coming through.  I managed to sleep well enough, but Larisa kept waking up when the rainfly would catch a gust and deliver a flat crack like a rifle shot.  Remember what I said about letting her pick the first site?  We moved the next day.   And, of course, the night was calm as a church.