The Sand Dooms

What goes down must come up… right? I’m afraid I must have forgotten this common phrase during the course of my visit to the Sleeping Bear Dunes.

Standing atop the enormous sand dune, I could see for miles. The water never seemed to end, as it only stopped at the sight of the horizon somewhere beyond my view. Lake Michigan faded into an abyss after transforming from a light blue and green color into a deep dark blue. I could only begin to imagine all of the life that was going on below, far beneath the lake’s surface. There could be mysterious forms of life that no one may ever discover. I like it that way, because when humans discover something, we often forget that it had a life of its own prior to its unearthing, and we make it into what we want.

I felt ready to descend the dune with my shorts fastened tight, bathing suit top secured, and barefoot toes prepared to wiggle and dig in for the descent down the hill. Slowly, I braved the slippery sand but soon found that I was flying down the mountain. I stopped leaping through the sand every so often, just to make sure I still could and I quickly reached the bottom of the dune, panting and full of excitement from the exhilarating trip down the tower of sand. I submerged my feet into the rewarding chill of Lake Michigan's water at the dune’s base, as it was a sizzling sunny day, and I was sweating like a man wearing leather pants.

After splashing in the rippling waves, basking in the sunlight, and making footprints in the soft beach sand, I turned around to face the giant mass before me. There is no downplaying its height and slope which seemed to descend at a seventy-degree angle towards the cloudless sky. The people at the top now looked like tiny little ants on a giant anthill. I definitely underestimated the effort that it would take to get back up.

Knowing the great effort it would take, I took the dune one footstep at a time. Slowly each "footstep" became one push forward with my feet and a grab in the hot sand with my hands, inching my way up on hands and knees. I remember thinking that they must call it Bear Dunes because everyone is crawling on their hands and knees by the time they reach the top.

Despite being on my hands and knees, I knew I could do it. I had no choice really: my car was parked at the top, so I would, at some point, have to make it up the entire dune. Trucking on at the best pace that I could manage, I felt as if I were a fearless warrior on a mission through the desert. Towards the top of the dune, the angle of elevation became easier to manage, and I gratefully realized that I was almost there.

Finally, I made it to the top, where other tourists lazily lingered looking down at the descent before them rather than attempting the challenge. I sat in the sand among them, catching my breath, enjoying my accomplishment, and acknowledging the dune I had just clambered. I had a whole new appreciation for the gorgeous view before me, and the incredible piece of earth that allowed me to experience such a wonderful adventure.