Today was Jenny’s day. The snow boarding queen would finally try her hand at sand boarding. I had Kanarra. She had Coral Pink Sand Dunes (the only major sand dune field on the Colorado Plateau.)
To say this was a sight I’ve never seen before is an understatement. The blue sky (it has been as blue as the pictures show) against windblown sand as fine as Ryan Gosling. It does in fact play tricks with your mind because it’s hard to discern where the dune is vs. just a flat expanse.
Our first early morning adventure was with Gordon taking ATVs around and up and down the sand dunes. A full loop around the park. Riding ATVs on the dunes was an experience. Banking the largest dune was a rock star experience: felt great going up, you weren’t sure if you were about to crash, and coming down was swift and fast.
Our guide for the day was Gordon. You’ll notice we won’t be fawning over Gordon. Nice guy. Not sure how much he loves his job. Good videographer though. We have him to thank for what’s to come.
Now for the day’s highlight; sand boarding. Gordon! Put that sand sled away. Do we look practical or do we look dumb? That’s right. Dumb. Now wax up that board and give it to me because I’ve never been snow boarding, I’ve failed at wake boarding and wake surfing, and I haven’t been water skiing in, oh, 15 years? Listen Gordon. I was an awesome slalom skier. It’s the same. Right?
The first hurdle was getting up the sand dune. I probably stopped three times and ended up using my board like a walker – stuck it in the sand in front of me and walked forward with the support. It was a whole new meaning of the Gram. This bodes well. Jenny goes down first (I was actually only half way up at this point and to return to normal breathing, I used the excuse of videoing her for the actual Gram.
Miss camo leggings and lower abs wasn’t immediately great. She went probably 5 feet. I understand it is different than snow boarding. But soon enough, she was zipping down the hill until there was one near perfect run. But nobody cares about that, according to Gordon. They only want to see you fall.
So my first run got up enough speed to rip my butt cheeks in opposite directions when I hit the sand. I did that one time before wiping out at the bottom of the hill in front of Schwers’ house. It didn’t feel good at 14 and it did it feel good now. The next attempts were a series of tip overs, struggs to get up, and one literal face plant when the board was stuck at an odd angle in the sand so I literally tipped forward to eat my sand lunch. In the end, had a pretty good short run and I foolishly said, “ok. I got this.” (All those above were part of one run down the hill.)
Once I made it back to the top of the dune, after stopping at the cafeteria for some jello and toast, I set myself up for the second run. A little jump jump and away I went. Woohooooo! I’m the King of the whooooaaaa! An. Epic. Fail ensued. First of all, thanks Gordon for telling me AFTERWARDS not to fall forward.
I’ve never been great at gymnastics or tumbling, but this may have passed as a 10. I was gaining a lot of speed and my “WHAT ARE YOU DOING” brain took over. So naturally, instead of pushing my weight into the board to control it, I thought it a great idea to bail. You know, I was thinking earlier that it would be super neat to land right on my bruise. So I skillfully turned the board so I was facing backwards, attempted my best Roman chair, and threw in a backwards roll just for style points. The way to be successful at this highly technical flip is to slam you hand down as hard as you can, a little like planting toe pick to launch into your jump. What adds a degree of difficulty is jumping off the outside edge of your head with an extra half rotation, which takes incredible strength and body control to get enough height to finish strong. Let’s go to the tape.
I’m clearly hard headed because I heard it smack against the no longer soft and supple sand. My right hand was bruised before I even sat up. (I didn’t immediately get up. I rolled over contemplating if I’d know what a concussion felt like. This had to be close.) Gordon called from the ATV, largely uninterested “you ok?” Sure. I probably have switched my right brain functions over to the left, and my hand may be broken, but you just sit there. I got this! (Clearly if the person moves and is conscious, there’s no blood, and all limbs are in tact and connected to the right place on your body, there’s really no need to aid the client. I did sign a waiver after all. These were all the things I had to compete with to make this a top 10 fall.) Gordon was impressed with how far I slid. See? I told you I didn’t need the sand slide.
Using the “get back up in the horse” technique, I tried a much shorter hill (mostly because I was already sitting at the top of it and it required no effort.) I went down far enough to prove to myself I’m stupid, then I bailed out. The problem was that Gordon’s rules were all ATV related: no fishtailing and don’t take pictures while driving the ATV. Gordon did not have the “don’t die” clause, so my death wish continues.
The amount of sand I took into my clothing and any available orifice was astounding. The entire hood on my hoodie was filled with sand. My clothing was covered head to foot. It was in my ears, on my face, in my tear ducts, and has likely made permanent residence in my hair and eyebrows. If for nothing else, it was an exfoliating experience.
I immediately started icing my hand as the swelling probably started before I came to a stop. I had to assess if I was able to get back on the ATV and operate the throttle. Seeing as you need to grip it and keep the throttle down with your thumb, it didn’t seem likely that the growing baseball mit was was my right hand could handle it. Gordon says, “can you do it?” Yep! Let’s go! (See above: dumb.)
Down to the very originally named Red Canyon (although it’s nicknamed peek-a-boo.) If you’ve ridden a jet ski, driven on ice, or pulled yourself out of a fishtail go-carting, you can ride an ATV. (I’m guessing a tip over would be a little more devastating on an ATV vs. a jet ski.) its a little more difficult to do so with a throbbing hand over what has grown into your basic mogul course. It’s a trail that requires a serious 4×4. The mom van just wasn’t going to make it. We passed someone royally stuck requiring a tow. Who drives into sand? You’re gonna get stuck! There’s a business that makes all their money hauling Jeff and Susan out of a rut multiple times a day.
Sidebar: for those who have asked to see the mom van, here’s Jenny making it look super sexy.
The slot canyon was beautiful. Look.
The canyon comes to an end. It’s not a through canyon.) Gordon said people try to spider they’re way up. Few people make it. And never a girl. Game. On. Jenny did her beat Egyptian and made it half way up. Truly, she would have made it if she had on grippy hiking boots instead of her sneaks.
We left for Escalante immediately after and randomly caught a brilliant sunset. We were supposed to be somewhere else but of course, completely missed the turn. More on that tomorrow.
INJURY REPORT: severely Bruised right hand. Possible not on left lower back. Potential for whiplash. Bruises on the right arm to match the left. Poked by a cactus.
BRUISE UPDATE: double bruised it today in the fall. It’s developing into a deep magenta.
Roam Free 