The mountain of sand glared at us every morning from behind our tents. Some mornings, I would sip my coffee and stare inland toward the wall of fog. “The mountain disappeared; I guess that means I don’t have to climb it,” I’d announced. But before I could finish my camp stove coffee, the fog would begin to burn and the dune would appear again. Waiting for us.
Finally, Maggie and I decided to go up. We’d been waiting for the perfect time, when the sand wouldn’t be wet from the night before and when it wouldn’t be blistering hot on our feet, like smaller dunes had been earlier in the week.
It was a beautiful walk. The view never stopped. The breeze was subtle and welcomed. The hard part was the sand you sunk into, and the steep peak, where we had to walk on all fours to get to the top.
We made it to the top, out of breath, but excited for the views — and a peak high enough to get Internet service on our phones, finally.
Here are a few pictures of our trip up the sand dune at Lawson’s Landing fishing resort in Dillon Beach.
You and Maggie rock! Man, whatta climb! Love this post …your amazing photos are equally matched with your eloquent words. So glag you blog…makes my world a brighter place
Next dune: Death Valley!! I recommend not tackling that until February however. Loved the pics; loved the words even more.
Those are really beautiful pictures. I’m jealous of your adventures!!
We made it!