Meanwhile, Ariel was attending a conference of some kind in Barcelona. She called me after she returned while she was going on an 8-mile run more or less along the East River from Manhattan across the Queensboro Bridge and returning across the Williamsburg Bridge. She said she actually stayed in Sitges, a coastal town about a 30-minute train ride from Barcelona. She loved the region, she loved the people, and she loved the food and wine. Chris, I gathered, is very busy with research work and graduate work.
Oh, and we did remember our toothbrushes. Jack packed vitamins, too. Plus, we brought the disc sled we got in Ruidoso to slide down the sand dunes.
After a hearty breakfast of pancakes and bacon, we went by the market and got bagels, summer sausage, a gallon jug of water, string cheese, dried apricots, instant oatmeal, and instant hot chocolate. We got a few things for the drive. Jackson got sour cream and green onion chips for his "snack". I got Funyons. Ry got a roll of candy. Since we only planned one night, packing in late afternoon and packing out early morning, we didn't need much of anything else.
We gassed up at Costco, picked up submarine sandwiches at the Subway next door, and then drove to White Sands, about a three hour drive. This part of the adventure did not appeal to Jackson, since he did not have his computer and did not appreciate the drive. We retraced much of the same route as our trip to Ruidoso, except in Carrizozo we turned toward Tularosa and Alamogordo. Along the way, I played a CD Ariel gave me ten years ago. We talked, the boys played, and I don't recall any fights between them. Tularosa and Alamogordo both seemed like nice enough towns and places one might retire to on the cheap. Alamogordo, in particular, seemed to be developing and had many hotels, restaurants, a college branch, and the Space Museum, which we were going to visit on our return.
We arrived at White Sands about 4:30 and the Ranger registered us and assigned us a campsite. The National Monument only allows overnight stays in ten primitive camp sites disbursed along a two-mile loop in the dunes near the end of the road. They lock the main gates at night, so no-one comes in at night. On the back of the permit is an emergency number to call if you need to get out.
The Visitors Center is actually at the edge of the dunes. I brought out the string cheese, which the boys devoured, saying they hadn't had some in a long time. We paid $9 total for admission and our camping permit fee. The road goes about 10 miles in all, most of it covered in sand. We passed the cars parking for the stroll. The backpacking trailhead is at a large parking lot about 8 or 9 miles in, with a vault restroom, at the base of enormous dunes of sand. When we arrived, there were about four or five cars parked at the trailhead. There were two families up on the dune next to us, sledding, and Rylee immediately grabbed the sled and ran to the top, coaxing Jackson, who joined him, as I readied all the packs, making sure all the loose clothes, food and extra water were packed away.
It's not really a trail, although there were several footprints you could follow. The trail is really a series of posts about a 100 yards or so apart. When you reach one, you look for the next one. One post had tumbled over from the shifting sand. You go along the crests of the dunes and up and down dunes. The footing can be firm in spots but often was very soft when climbing. The trick is to find a route that keeps you on top of the dunes. Of course, the view is tremendous. White sand as far as you can see. The boys thought it looked like snow. Closer to the beginning of the trail there were small valleys of scrub vegetation, grass, and cacti, living in the sand, but these became fewer as you hiked in.
The Ranger assigned us campsite #1 as the closest, and it was no more than three-quarters of a mile in. Jackson hiked along, talking about the ordnance and much surprised at how easy backpacking was. He kept track of the posts. Rylee would dash about and a couple of times fell face first into the sand. He stopped for water once. I led the way and wondered if we had passed campsite #1 where we saw the post that had tumbled down a dune. We kept going. We'd see a post in the distance, arrive, but no number. Finally, we were certain we must be at the spot and we decided to stop and pitch the tent at the bottom of a dune, away from any wind I hoped. It was getting late, and I was certain it would turn cold almost immediately at sunset.
Off and on I had watched the weather at White Sands, trying to calculate when we could go. Summer would be too hot; spring would bring winds and busy baseball schedules would make any backpacking plans difficult. This particular time promised sunny days and official highs around 60. Close to freezing at night, but no wind. Almost a full moon. I knew the moon would rise about 9:30 and last until dawn. Sometime in the middle of the night I got up and walked about while the boys slept. It was actually very comfortable. The moon glow prevented a good view of the stars. The light reflected from the sand glowed all about me, with no shadows.
We slept better than I thought we would. Three times I awoke to hear a light wind flapping the fly cover. Each time it seemed the temperature dropped. Several other times I awoke from being sore from sleeping in one position on the ground. I'd awake to be sure the boys had their caps on and that each was covered. We slept very close to each other, thriving on our body heat. Only just before dawn did it seem to get uncomfortably cold and the sides of the tent had frost. But once the sun began to come up, the morning warmed up considerably.
I boiled water on the stove and made hot chocolate and oatmeal. The boys hiked all over the surrounding dunes. Sure enough, on the very other side of the dune by our tent was the post for campsite no. 1. We hiked over to see some protuberance of hardened sand, which at first from a distance we thought was a tent, but it turned out to be a crust where a cactus once grew; its skeleton lay beside it. The boys played in the sunlight and "moon walked" down the dunes, hopping down the soft sand. From the top of the dunes we could get telephone service, just barely, but enough to talk with Cyndi, who was warmer and worried in Tampa. The boys kept playing as I began to take down the tent and pack the bags in a slow and methodical way.
Just as we were leaving our site, another backpacker approached from the trail from further out in the dunes. It was a woman hiking out from her campsite. She remarked, after I asked, how she had heard us at one time in the night but the sound was gleeful, how she wondered at all the stars visible before the moon rose, and how cold it was. Jackson commented how he was a "techie", something he said a couple of more times to people who asked about our overnight at White Sands. The return hike was even better because we could see all of the dunes stretching out and we saw not only the course we had taken the day before but many, better alternatives to get back to the trailhead. From atop the dunes, facing in the direction of the road, you could see a little "backcountry" playground laid out among the dunes, perfectly accessible from the parking areas at the end of the road. In the distance we could see another early hiker coming or going, I don't know which. It looked like he was carrying a tripod.
Jackson really liked the bagel and summer sausage meal and there was some left, so when we got in the car we drove to the visitor's center, bought some drinks and made sandwiches in the parking lot. We saw the ranger who checked us in. She said their gauge showed the temperature had dropped nearly 50 degrees during the night, nearly to single digits. We drove to Alamogordo and visited the Space Museum. As it turned out, it was a free admission day for New Mexico residents. The museum had several real and replica missiles and space capsules and some mock ups of space stations and shuttle controls. Lots of displays of gear and food, space suits, satellites, and technology.
Driving home, Rylee was preoccupied with his tablet for most of the trip. Jackson brought his video camera and microphone but we left it in the car during our hike because we thought the sand might not be good for it. He took it out for a few minutes on the drive. Jackson really did not like the driving and at one point I looked back and saw him sitting, staring out the window. At that moment, I thought that was okay. He doesn't get much chance to be bored and lost in his own thoughts. Rylee had dibs on a bath when we got home. Jackson, I'm sure, was ready to get on his computer. Which was okay, too, I thought.
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