Dunes and Pies

Snow Dunes, Skyline Trail - February 2024

Charlotte & sand ripples, Medano Creek in background - June 2016

In June 2016 Charlotte and I visited Great Sand Dunes National Park with my parents. Charlotte was ten, and had just wrapped up fourth grade. We were all excited to check out this national park for the first time.

The Great Sand Dunes, with their amazing geological story of formation, are nestled in a pocket at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The dunes we currently see are around 12,000 years old, but sand found hundreds of feet down indicates that the dunes originally formed at least 400,000 years ago. The Great Sand Dunes are the tallest dunes in North America. Their height is achieved by prevailing winds moving sand against the mountain range, while winds from the opposite direction prevent the sand from moving into and between the mountains. Add to that the Sand and Medano Creeks carrying sand like a conveyor belt to the San Luis Valley floor, making sand continually available for the winds to blow toward the dunes, and you have the dramatic and unlikely juxtaposition of windswept beige dunes towering right up against the alpine backdrop of dark greens and browns. 
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The first afternoon we spent time at Medano Creek, which runs east and south of the dunes. This is a prime hangout for children and grown-ups alike. It was like a day at the beach: warm splashy water and soft wet sand between our toes. Watching the creek, we noticed an interesting phenomena: the continual movement of the water would form groups of tiny V-shaped ridges of sand. Water would build behind the ridges until it overflowed those mini-dams and the water surged forward in little waves. Then the process would start again. This is called surge flow.
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The next day we explored the dunes themselves. We had heard about renting sand boards to surf down the dunes, but we preferred a little DIY, especially as the rental rates were on the pricey side. My dad had packed a couple of burly sleds and we used some surf wax on the bottoms. We trudged up the nearest dune, hauling the cumbersome sleds in the hot sun. The dune was deceptively high, and we were huffing, puffing, sweating and wishing for a cold beverage by the time we reached the top. Charlotte, excited for the purpose of all that climbing, jumped into one of the sleds and my dad gave her a push. The sled didn’t budge. We tried on a steeper section and it slid a disappointing few feet before bogging down in the sand. There are times to DIY, and there are times to pay the hefty sand board rental fee.

All was not lost. We had some fun running down the dune at full tilt, since falling into sand doesn’t pack much of a consequence. We watched people hiking up and down Star Dune, the tallest of the dunes. Star dunes form from the wind blowing from several directions, and these dunes have three arms or more. 

After braving the mosquitoes that hovered near the shrubbery along one area of Medano, 
we thankfully headed indoors to the Visitors Center. One of my favorite displays was two photos of the dunes, hung one above the other. The first one was from 1873 and the second was a more recent shot. (You can scroll down this page to see the current comparison photos, the current-day pic taken in 2020.) Though dune sizes and shapes morph over time, and even day to day, the elements that create the Great Sand Dunes are consistent enough that the overall contours and placement are very similar over the span of time. I was intrigued to learn that the water flowing through the Sand and Medano Creeks eventually dissipates south and west of the mountains, creating ecosystems such as the wetlands (scroll to bottom) in the San Luis Valley, home to species such as sandhill cranes and shore birds. The entire park as a whole encompasses many ecosystems, and the way the systems work together and support one another is fascinating.

Our trip to the park was full of fun and learning, but our story would not be complete without telling the discovery of The Pies.

My mom had managed to locate the one restaurant within the park boundary, called The Oasis. That first night, we four hungry folks headed into this 1950’s-reminiscent diner: paper placemats, vinyl chairs and tablecloths, linoleum floor, and knotty-pine paneling covering walls and ceiling. The food was decent, and we were partway through dinner when I saw my mom’s dessert-wheels start turning. My mother is a verifiable dessert connoisseur. She pointed out the  back side of the dessert menu to Charlotte, and then they both dropped their forks. The list of homemade pies was a mile long, and those two were in seventh heaven. When their slices of paradise were delivered, rich peanut butter chocolate and fluffy lemon meringue enveloped in crusts flakey and golden, Charlotte’s eyes were bigger than the pie plates. I think there were tears of joy in my mom’s. 

After wrapping up at the Visitor’s Center the next day, can you guess where those two wanted to go for lunch? Yep. Back to The Oasis. This time they didn’t even make a pretense at the meal. They located the pie case, stuffed with close to two dozen mouth-watering creations, and remained there for roughly half an hour discussing the merits of each pie, agonizing over which one to choose. My dad and I sat at our table solving the world’s problems. 

At last, pie choices made and eaten, we walked out of The Oasis. We drove down the road, and out of the park, the pie-gals dreaming about meringue and fruit, chocolate and whipped cream. 

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