Weekends like that are the seeds of memories that linger.  With 20/20 hindsight and just a bit of faith in the reputations of those who came before this wouldn’t have been my first trip to the dunes. But I’m a skeptic. How fun could sand skiing really be? You can’t possibly go very fast. I hadn’t even considered the consequences of falling; not yet. Being willing to believe, it was time to verify that the reputation for fun was deserved.  It’s a two way street. You gotta believe before you can see, but you still need to see the evidence to confirm the belief.

Photos by Kari Teraslinna (except as noted).

Chez has been there since the beginning, but with his appearance at the 2019 rendezvous, traveling from Japan, he cemented his reputation as the most fanatical sand skier of Colorado’s great dunes.

When I looked at the map it seemed a long drive. Done in September, without I-70 congestion, and Chez to talk to, it was a mere four hours of leisure cruising with spectacular views of Colorado’s mountains, ending at the southern end of the Sangre de Cristo Range.  It has steeper, rockier flanks than the nearby Collegiate Range, forming a stunning backdrop of granite and green against the subtle tones of sand.

Memories can fade but Chez seemed to think this past September (2019) might have been a new high water mark. There were more than 24 skiers there, some merely in spirit due to injuries or the liabilities of skiing sand where falls are obligatory. Though you may avoid injury, you can at least enjoy the insult of packing every orifice with sand when you do – ears, nose, mouth, hair and eyelashes at the least.

Everyone took at least one fall. Mine was a star-fish turn, complete with a headplant in the middle of the cartwheel. After Nate took his obligatory digger, face first, the sand released from the turns above cascaded down and filled his upside down pants to the brim while the momentum of his fall packed his ears. Aside from that, sand skiing is good old-fashioned dirty fun.

There’s a trick to skiing sand and failure to execute proper technique will result in a fall.  Thus, you need to be familiar with the double-edged sword of technique, the flipside is knowing how to fall without relying on a safety release to save your legs.

Chez’ advice was spot on. The fastest skis are long and skinny. Tele rules because you can distribute your weight more evenly between the two skis, minimizing resistance to the point that you can actually accelerate. Once you start gliding, don’t turn hard, “keep it light,” yet tight, with sweeping giant slalom  turns. Above all, do NOT lean forward. Not a smidgen. That’s why tele rules. You can adjust the weight on the rear while using the front to stabilize your stance. Let it slide and keep your speed as high as you dare.

One thing that surprised me was how difficult the uphill half of the journey was.  Booting in sand is a thankless task, and while skinning is definitely better than booting it still sucks compared to snow skinning.  Even with skis, the sand would mush down, and then sluff from above, pushing you back while you tried to move forward. Every. Single. Step.  There must be a better way to do this, and I thought perhaps ski crampons might help, but for one or two days a year, if that, why worry about it? 

Like skinning snow, it was a great time for meditation or talk.  The uphill work out is awesome. Leif said, “it’s like three steps forward and two back.” Which is why the five-hundred-foot climb felt like ten-hundred.  In the workout world that’s even better, plus we all got an overdose of UV rays and vitamin D.

Wide brimmed straw hats were quite popular.

If that wasn’t good enough, then there was a great après vibe in camp.  Jamie Seiffer organized the whole shebang, making sure we were all in the same camp.

In past years, parking was left to individuals to sort out, making a central gathering spot less enticing.  Some of us didn’t jump on the parking bandwagon early enough, but the “remote” parking lot wasn’t really that far.  Jamie made sure everything you needed was there; picnic tables, a kitchen, après munchies, a fireplace, food, family, and friends. 

Besides great meals, we were also treated to live music courtesy of “the mayor”, Larry Hall on guitar, while Charlie Rafferty alternated between guitar, mandolin, and bag-pipes. Chris Nall added bongos. By the time there were calls for some Dead tunes, the appointed vocalist, Bryan Carter, had slunk off to catch the early showing of eyelid movies.

Sunday we broke camp then headed back to explore a different corner of the Great Dunes. We dropped down to a bend of Medano Creek, climbed back up a different route, and made a final run back across the creek to the cars.

If you’re looking for something completely different, check out the Great Sand Dunes National Park, in south central Colorado.  You don’t have to ski, just hiking around provides plenty of visual entertainment and a taste of adventure.

© 2019

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