As we crossed into Colorado the snow began to fall as we cruised past Elk the sky began to disappear, we didn’t even realise the land was crowned with mountains, the lines on the road had vanished under white. At 3 minutes past six the Great Sand Dunes National Park entry was unmaned and the visitor’s centre closed, we decided in this empty white space we would risk some stealth camping. The spot we chose was sheltered, there was an air of comedy about the whole situation, three hikers in the snow setting up tents on a stage with an ampitheatre of wooden benches rising before us, perhaps there would be an audience of squirrels and black bears watching us slumber. Our tiny tent next to Sam’s enormous 6 maner with room for all to stand.

We cooked our meal down the path in a illuminated information booth wary of the black bear warning. Cocktails and beer from a growler kept us in a false warmth whilst Dylan cooked. I made my first snowman under Sam’s watchful American gaze, starting with a small snowball then rolling it around in powder, it grew and grew. When I was finished Sam christened my snowman unworthy, it was really snowing in earnest; I was too lazy to improve upon it.

We then fled to the truck to eat, passing Sam’s deflated tent on the way through, he would be sleeping in the car that night. The path was illuminated by little solar powered lights, glowing feebly under a layer of snow, our footfalls crunched and crackled.

We awoke to a new world, blue sky on trees we had not even known were feet in front of us. then i turned and saw the dunes, incongruous next to snow capped mountains. I felt lucky to see it at this time of year when few would have made the journey opting for a warmer season.

When we made the climb every footstep revealed a layer cake of sand and snow, wind blowing layer over layer. Scratching what appeared to be brownish sand revealed a gash of white. Hiking poles in hand we played like children writing messages and kicking powder in the air. There were less than a dozen of us on the dunes, the sun shone brilliantly and the wind only blew fearsly at the summit.

Once at the top we rolled and ran down the slope, taking it three times fast than up. We passed a whole convoy of dog’s and their owners on the way down, jackets done up snugly. Then a peanutbutter and “jelly” wrap at the picnic area before undertaking the massive drive to Denver.