Some Dreams Really Do Come True, Part 7

 

The scene you are witnessing is a view not dissimilar to what I imagine the Hebrews experienced as they exited the Arabian wilderness and approached the Promised Land. It is, in fact, a view of leaving the Great Sand Dunes National Park and approaching the peaks of the beautiful San Isabel State Forest.

I woke up on Tuesday, June 1, 2024, with a very woeful anguish inside, knowing that this was my last day in Colorado. Tomorrow, I would be taking my east-bound roadtrip. Dreaded for being multiple thousand miles, and dreaded for going into later timezones. It would feel significantly longer than coming.

Yet that was not today, that was tomorrow. I still had one more day to play hard and adventure fully. And I was going to make the best of it.

Assembling a group of four, we first headed to Walmart for a supply of bananas. Why? Don't ask. We simply randomly decided that we needed some bananas, and that's all there was to it.

Once our mission was accomplished, we happily munched on our bananas as we rolled onto the west-bound highway toward Alamosa. It was a solid two hours plus till we finally arrived at the Sand Dunes National Park. I had heard of this bizarre natural feature for many years. Never did I think I was going to ever see it in person. But here I was, staring at a giant bowl of sand dunes, walled in on every side by lush, green, forested granite peaks.

To get to the dunes from the parking lot, one has to cross a shallow creek. This creek has a odd phenomenon where the current continually builds and collapses little sand ridges, creating a pulsating current. During high water, the surging ripples are actually strong enough to ride on inflatables. But this was not high water. The west has been under drought for years. Still, there was enough water for the four of us present to splash one other as we chased each other around and around.

Of course, standing in a desert with no clouds and no shade trees is not something we wanted to do all day. Especially since two of us hated sand's guts. We were only there for the sake of saying we've been there and seen it. Not the two youngest members of the party, though. They wanted to go climb a dune. An idea more ridiculous than Wesley climbing the Cliffs of Insanity without a rope in the movie Princess Bride. But of course, being the magnanimous big brother of a friend that I am, I volunteered to accompany them up a dune.

And so, after a ridiculously hilarious attempt, by a certain two people, to put their shoes back on without getting them all full of sand (note that it really doesn't work to wash sand off your feet then move back to dry land--that is made out of sand) we were off. Two madly ambitious children and their less excited temporary guardian. I trailed behind, taking photos of C3PO and R2D2 roaming the desert of Tatooine.

 

Then we hit the dunes. And let me tell you. Sand is miserable always. But sand that is hot. On a hot day. And climbing a steep dune. In open-toed sandals. Very, very, extremely miserable. But at least I didn't have to worry about sand in my socks. :P

I think someone might be slightly regretting a series of multiple life choices... 

 

First one to the top waiting for the two of us to catch up...

 

Victory selfie at the top! We made it!

 

Lacking sand-surfing boards, we were forced to walk back down. Rolling would be way too miserable. But we finally made it back on the flats and broke into a run. Behold! Children of Israel! The Promised Land awaits on the other side of the Jordan River!

Once we got back to the car and brushed the sand off as best as we could, I handed out lots of snacks and we set out for the next stop, the Alligator Rescue Farm in Alamosa.

Now, let me complain about the Deep South for a sec. See, I've been to Florida twice. I've been to Louisiana once. I've driven through Mississippi, through Georgia, and never once did I see an alligator. No, I saw my first alligator in LAND-LOCKED UNSWAMPY COLORADO!!! Y'all down in the south really need to up your game.

A smol child admiring baby alligators, right before the rest of the group decided to feed him to said baby alligators (don't worry, no smol children were harmed in the making of this adventure. We only pretended to throw him in)

The apparent main attraction to most of the group was the family of giant tortoises. A certain someone could not separate himself from said tortoises. Had they been less giant, I would have been concerned that he was going to kidnap one and hide it in the car.

At some eventual point, we met a gator wrangler, who allowed each of us to take a turn holding a baby alligator.

I also held the gator, but we will not use that picture. What I will say is that one of my older brothers used to have a squishy rubber lizard, filled with whatever is in stress balls. The baby alligator felt exactly like that. Squishy rubber.

The gator farm is home to many things. Lots of gators, of course. And giant tortoises. And a rare albino gator.

The farm is also full of comical tongue-in-cheek sarcastic signs.

And a variety of fish, including this piranha, who would love if someone gave him the chance to do a pedicure.

The farm also has snakes, which I decided not to photograph. And lizards. And some birds. Also emus. Emu eggs would make a lot of omelets.

We also got to watch a farm employee rescue a random swan egg that was floating around in one of the catch-and-release fishing ponds (not one of the alligator ponds).

But after roaming around, we finally decided it was time to journey on to Zapata Falls. A short hike, followed by a tricky scramble through a really ice cold creek with a really swift current, to observe a waterfall hidden in the corner of a canyon.

 

We knew it was gonna be cold wading. We didn't expect quite that cold. So as we sat on the creek bank, trying to regain feeling in our toes, I thought, "you know what would feel really good right now? Going swimming in a hot springs."

After all, we had pretty much all dressed for the possibility of getting wet, between the creek at the dunes and the creek at the falls. Full fledged swimming wasn't that out of the realm of logic. Other than the slight issue that we hadn't thought about bringing towels. And Alamosa had a hot springs swimming pool. Which had been on the table as an option for the day, but had previously been nixed.

Being a totally responsible adult, mature leader, and good decision maker (lies, all lies), I handed the decision to the group's two youngest members.

 

The decision was an instant yes, so off we went.

 A view of the Dunes park from the Zapata Falls trail...

 

When we got to the hot springs, we had a blast. The water felt like a really warm bathtub. We swam. We did lots of slightly hazardous jumps off the diving boards. Being a 'swim at your own risk' facility, no lifeguards yelled at us doing somersaults and back-flips like they would at basically every public pool anywhere else. It was epic.

But we had a two hour drive to get home. So we eventually had to leave. And on the way home, some people fell asleep. A clear sign that the day had been successfully adventurous and energy levels were all ready for bed.

The next morning, I found and stole a prickly pear cactus from the landscape, a little reminder of all the adventures. I'm not sure whether it has adapted to Maryland's climate or not. It isn't exactly thriving, but it isn't dead yet, either.

But the time had come. I had to leave. And with the long trip ahead, I knew I couldn't spare the time to stop in and say one last goodbye to my friends.

A few hours later, I woefully said goodbye to the Colorado Welcome sign and crossed into Kansas.

I'm not saying I cried the entire way across the state of Kansas. But I'm not saying that it didn't happen either...

What I did know was that, one way or another, I would be back one day. I had to. Maybe to live, maybe only to visit. But the Rockies are just too beautiful. Maybe next time I'll get up to Pikes Peak. Or cross over the central mountain range to see the west side. Who knows?

And that's it! I eventually arrived back in Maryland, and that was the end of my journey! I am still absolutely blown away that the expedition actually happened. I've wanted to visit the state for years. I've wanted to see the Rockies in any state for most of my life. I never fathomed it would actually become possible. Nor did I ever fathom that journey would become the single best week of my entire twenty-seven years. But it happened. Abba is a good father. And I'm counting my blessings.

Knowing I can't count that high.