It's a long drive south on Hwy 285, and Hwy 17 before you finally reach the Great Sand Dunes National Monument, but it has an awesome payoff; the opportunity to camp and ski on some of the most unique terrain in the country.

The dunes were first designated as a monument in 1932 and an outgoing President Bill Clinton started securing its future as a National Park by renaming and reclassifying the area with the Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve Act in 2000. It received this distinction in 2004 with legislation signed by Secretary of the Interior Gale Norton. The area has received funding and undergone construction. A visit is never disappointing but, late autumn is probably the most agreeable time of year.

The Dune itself spreads across thirty-nine square-miles and the tiny grains, carried down the long San Luis Valley, drop from the air near Medano Pass. What's deposited are ultra-fine particles with distinct character. Large patches of different colors can be seen from a distance, and the shifting shapes of the sand are so striking that the impression is everlasting. In addition to its incredible beauty, it can find its way into every nook and cranny of your body.

Just north of the Blanca Massif, and south of the great Sangre De Cristo Range, I found myself turning in at the new visitor center. A pseudo-annual trip, years past had brought as many as seventeen people to camp and ski, and last year only seven made the effort, and now, I alone came to make some early season turns. Everyone else in our circle was busy. The attendant at the counter of the center was encouraging and polite, and told me exactly what I wanted to hear: "Yes, of course you can camp out on the dune. Let me just get you a permit."

I motored past the Pinon Flats campground, which offers excellent campsites, running water and bathrooms. I charged down the soft sand road and pushed my mountain sedan to its limit. I finally made it to the parking lot and somehow got parked so that I could get out of there too. An example of foresight I rarely experience.

Camping alone is nice, but heavier for many reasons. In my pack I carried my heavyweight sleeping bag, stove, extra drawers, food, water, tea, utensils, almost all of the ten essentials, my REI two-cup, boots, skis, and my Sierra Designs tent. The lightest thing in my pack was the tent.

Making the sandy approach felt great in bare feet, and ski poles helped make a brisk half-hour walk to the best skiing. I ditched the pack at the base of the sandy bowl on the backside of the dune. Small, trickling, Medano Creek carries away extra sand and creates a unique, steep face that draws a crowd.

I was alone at this time, however, and quickly got into my boots and skis and started my upclimb. There was no need for climbing skins, the textured sand was like snow in so many ways, and I set out at a low angle, sinking slightly with each step. After the twenty-minute climb, I surveyed the top of the dune; looking for the perfect campsite. I noticed large clouds rolling down the valley. Sand and wind rushed at me. I took the first run, directly down the convex face of the bowl. The threat of avalanche appeared minimal, and I slowly built up speed. Down the slope, I pointed my tips straight. A patch of green grass grew to my left. The sand was silent as I felt myself falling as if in slow motion. It groaned and whined as I dropped into the turns, and soon I was at the sharp runout where the creek fights to take away the grains.

The experience is singular, and turns can be made on alpine skis, snowboards, serving trays, toboggans, and inflatable pool toys. However, the climb is brutal without old freeheel equipment. I made another smooth run and then shouldered my pack. Under the threat of rain. I climbed up the face; climber's right. The clouds grew above me. I stopped on a broad shoulder halfway up the dune. A nice, even, open, space. The tent went up with no trouble and I sat in its shade on the shoulder of the cirque drinking tea and listening to drops of rain fall on the taut nylon.

Within a half an hour the great storm passed the Great Dune. "This is silly to sit and make camp here," I thought. Just as easily, I packed up and continued climbing. I explored the different aspects to be offered. Many clean lines tempted me. I topped out and toured the shifting sands. My ideal spot found me out of view of the campsites, and the roads, and the parking lots, and the small settlements running down the valley. The tent was pitched in the shadow of the Crestone Needle.

I set out to tour the dunes, searching for the steepest angles. The sun set with me perched on top of the tallest peak in the monument. I dropped down the low-angle face, climbed up to my tent and I began cooking my dinner in the twilight. Later, I crawled into my sleeping bag, and without the fly on the tent, my view was of so many of the million un-nameable stars. Maybe the trip next year would include more ski friends, but I didn't mind starting off my ski season with a quiet place all to myself.

Click here to see how Sierra Designs was used by David Mather and other people in the know.

Skiing the Dunes

Beautiful View

Solo Skier

Great Sand Dunes National Monument