This was no ordinary valley, and like Owens Valley in eastern California, I immediately became captive of its spell.

The valley of San Luis in south-central Colorado ranks as one of the most beautiful valleys in the American West. Classic in breadth of sky and earth, and almost ever-present is the quintessential Western light, the valley meets the visitor from northern New Mexico with surprising tenor. The Sangre de Cristo Mountains culminate in height around this valley (some peaks are more than 14,000 feet high), fringing it to the north and east, while the San Juan Mountains to the west impacts on the visitor with their majestic beginnings. This is where the Rio Grande, after running its initial course at the Rocky Mountains, meets the drier tablelands before its gradual but long descent along the north-south axis of New Mexico and its eventual, serpentine course on the Texas-Mexico border.

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California Scene

Driving up the valley from Taos, I was caught by the splendor of seemingly endless mountains and wide-open spaces bathed in midwinter light. In many a dreary, cold day in New England, I thought, I had dreamed of landscapes and distant places like this one that I was seeing now. At the juncture of Sierra Blanca, one of the towering giants of Sangre de Cristo, with the more northern peaks, we find the most curious geographical feature—an accumulation of sand over thousands of years at the foot of the mountains. The sand stretches over ten miles and at certain points is up to 700 feet high above the valley. Southwesterly winds from the valley blow the sand against the mountains, while northeasterly winds over the mountains keep the sand at bay. Tributaries of the Rio Grande and springs from the mountains seep beneath the sand and form a stable substrate flanking the eastern side of the dunes. The timing was perfect for exploring the Great Sand Dunes, not only because the day was about to be done, but also because the time of year probably saw the fewest of visitors.

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Camp Site

Where else could we find, in the dead of winter, such a peculiar and breathtaking canvas of sand, scattered snow on sand, snowcapped peaks, a soft azure sky, and the warm consolation of many a Western twilight? This was no ordinary valley, and like Owens Valley in eastern California, I immediately became captive of its spell. I am bound to visit it again at some point, and I know that I will never tire of the valley’s endless possibilities for exploring and appreciating.