The view from Aspen Camp in Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve/Robert Pahre

Memorial Day is the traditional start of the summer tourism season. In places like the Four Corners region, it may be the busiest time of the year as people try to visit the national parks before the summer heat arrives.

I love the region but I dislike crowds. So, when I found time for a week off at Memorial Day last year, the challenge was clear: Could I visit a Southwestern national park without the crowds? As a lover of wilderness, the challenge was even greater: Could I find solitude in that park?

I quickly found a promising target: Colorado’s Great Sand Dunes National Park. The park is very popular on Memorial Day. People camp for the weekend and explore the sand dunes, renting sand boards to “surf” down the face, and cool off in Medano Creek. I would avoid all that. Because my usual backpacking buddy was in Europe, my goal was utter solitude -– no people at all.

The trick was to use sand dunes as defense. There was only one backpacking trail in the park this early in the season, the Sand Ramp Trail. This trail follows the margin where the sand dunes meet the scrub and forests of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. The terrain is mostly grass and scrub, but foot traffic wears the trail down to sand. This means that you’re gaining about 700 feet by hiking up sand. That keeps people away.

It’s also slow going. I had expected hike at about half my usual pace, but I ended up going at only about one-fourth that on the sandy uphill. There are places where you slide back a half step with every step.

Some of the dunes of Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve/Robert Pahre

Fortunately, the trail starts out fairly flat. I saw two groups of hikers in that stretch, one of which was going to the first backcountry campsite. After that, the trail fords a creek and starts to climb to the high point of the trail.

That’s where I found my first campsite, “Aspen.” It’s in a grove of aspen trees at the high point of the Sand Ramp Trail. The site has a great view of the dunes from above, and more distant views across the San Luis Valley to the town of Alamosa over 30 miles away. A mule deer visited me during dinner. After cleaning up, I went down to enjoy the view.

From my campsite at 9,240 feet, I could look down on the dunes and see the weather. There was blue sky over part of the valley, cumulus clouds over another. There was also a worrisome line of dark clouds moving right to left. As I watched where that storm was headed, a sudden gust came from behind me, blowing very cold air down the mountain. It began to hail. The hail stopped as quickly as it had arrived, after only three or four minutes. Warm air came up the mountain, and the dark clouds moved off. Suddenly, the air was still. I was surrounded by quaking aspens, none of whose leaves were moving at all.

By being alone, I could notice the stillness of the aspens. Solitude achieved.

The first part of the second day’s hike stayed at the edge of the woods, just above the dunes. I crossed paths here with three people returning from the Cold Creek campground. From that point, I didn’t see another person until Day 4. 

The trail eventually reached a point with a great view of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to my right. From there, the trail dropped very sharply to Cold Creek. The forest at Cold Creek made a great lunch spot, though it left me with a view of the steep dunes I’d have to climb on my return.

After lunch, I began my hike to Sand Creek, where I would spend two nights. Along the way, I had to take shelter from a thunderstorm. The rain wasn’t bad where I was, but the storm looked pretty violent to the south. I eventually decided to hike into camp and put up my tent in the rain. 

Snow in the high country of Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve/Robert Pahre

I slept very soundly that night until I was awakened by thumping on my tent fly. That surprised me -- there were no people around, and wildlife is not in the habit of knocking first. When I stuck my head out of the tent, I was surprised to find an inch of wet snow covering my tent fly. It turns out that the thumping was clumps of snow falling off the branches of the cottonwood overhead.

The snowfall eased during breakfast, and I decided to go exploring. I had a good view of the snow-capped dunes, which developed interesting patterns as the snow melted and the water evaporated. Woodpeckers and songbirds were active in the cottonwood stand and along Sand Creek. I eventually circled back onto yesterday’s trail, where a lunch spot gave me a great view of the dunes.

The next day began my return hike. I had lunch at my former spot on Cold Creek, enjoying the cool forest before hitting the midday sun. I loaded up on water for a warm hike across the dunes, and lunch gave me the energy for the steep climb back to the top of the dune ramp. At the top, I met two women and their dog, the first people I had seen since the morning of Day 2.   I met three more backpackers on my hike back to Aspen camp.

Aspen had a surprise in store for me. Two large families were relaxing in my campsite with their horses and dogs. A couple of them had hiked up, but most of them had ridden up here for a picnic lunch and a view of the San Luis Valley. I met the dogs and we shared the site for a while before they headed back.

After they left, I set up my tent and sat down to make dinner. I looked out at the Great Sand Dunes, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, the San Luis Valley, and the San Juan Mountains in the distance. I had gorgeous views and a beautiful night sky.

I hiked out the next morning, an easy downhill hike despite the sand.

I also had the sense of a mission accomplished. On Memorial Day weekend in a popular Colorado national park, I spent 48 hours without seeing another person. Aside from running into a large group in my last campsite, I spent five days with very few encounters. I enjoyed everything from hot, sandy afternoons to an overnight snowfall.

Choosing the path less traveled by makes all the difference.

Robert Pahre is a professor of political science at the University of Illinois who takes groups of students on two-week trips to the intermountain West. You might see him at Great Sand Dunes this summer.