Can't We Have One Nice Thing? #saveourparks

There are a couple of themes I tend to repeat over and over on this blog. Among the most frequent: there is never enough time, going in with low expectations can result in beautiful surprises and you can not go wrong with visiting a US National Parks. Focusing on the third one, ever since a friend turned me onto the Parks Passport and the collection of stamps therein, I've been hooked on parks.  Which is why of the innumerable repulsive acts by Felon 47 and his sugar daddy, Apartheid Clyde, the firing of park rangers is the one that has me most disgusted at the moment. I say this with full awareness that within the hour, there will probably be an even more heinous proclamation from those two festering boils on the ass of humanity but one thing at a time. 

No sooner do I get to a city than I open up the NPS app to see what's close by. Even if it's something that would normally not catch my attention, I've learned to trust the process and have yet to be disappointed. A big reason for that is the tireless network of park rangers. I've already said that there is no Federal employee more dedicated or passionate about their work than those you find in our national parks.

Case in point, just last November, I was in El Paso, TX for a couple of days searching for something to do. One look at the app told me that White Sands National Park, aka the world's largest gypsum dunefield, was only an 1.5 hr drive away.  Did I know, prior to this information, that this was something I absolutely needed to see and would be willing to drive into neighboring New Mexico for? Not exactly. Did I even know what gypsum was? Other than the vague knowledge that it had something to do with drywall, no, not really. But it was a National Park and I wanted that stamp.

Somehow I was able to sell this plan to three friends and off we went. First stop, the Visitor's Center. This is not just where the stamps live, it is also where you find the ever helpful park rangers and get all the information you need to best enjoy your visit. My routine is always to go to the counter and have them mark-up a map of the park's can't miss highlights. 

The visitor's center shows a short film, A Land in Motion, that explains the formation and unique nature of the sand dunes. It also answered some of my very basic questions. Turns out, gypsum is a mineral found in the nearby mountains. When the snowfall melts, the gypsum flows off with the water and comes to rest at the lowest point. When the water evaporates, the gypsum remains in the form of amber colored crystals. Strong winds break up the crystals and send the particles flying, crashing into each other until they are ground down to a fine white sand. This sand accumulates into dune formations, swallowing up everything in its path as the wind continues to push it forward. The dunes are constantly in motion, meaning the park I visited will never look exactly like that again. 

The best way to appreciate the park is via a 16 mile scenic road that takes you right into the dunes themselves. Along the way, you can stop and do a couple of hikes, which the lovely woman at the visitor's center had circled on my map. The first was the Dune Life Nature Trail, where the desert scrub bush and the sand dunes meet.

The trail is a 1 mile loop but thanks to the ever-shifting landscape and the vast whiteness of the dunes, it is disturbingly easy to get lost. Or it would be, were the park rangers not maintaining a series of signs pointing hikers in the right direction. With no one to replace signs blown over by the wind, I dream of red-hatted dolts lost for all eternity, dying of thirst and somehow blaming DEI for their predicament. 

The first part of the road is paved before giving way to hard-packed gypsum, creating the illusion of a winter wonderland with 90 degree weather. 

                                              

Another recommended hike was La Playa trail. On this particular day, it was less Vamos pa la Playa and more dried out lakebed but depending on the season, it can become filled with rainwater. As explained in the introductory film, during those periods brine shrimp, tadpoles and small fish will inhabit the lake. This in turn will lead to the appearance of birds looking to dine on brine shrimp and company. 

It's crazy to imagine this whole ecosystem taking place in what to the naked eye was currently a whole lot of nothing.

Further on in the park, there are rest areas with picnic tables and play zones where sledding down the dunes is encouraged. 

When you just finish knitting a new shawl and can't wait to show it off.

We didn't have sleds and the plastic bags holding our snacks did not prove to be an adequate substitute so we more just ran around the dunes. 

The relatively small size of the park meant that we were done in a couple of hours. We could have driven straight back to El Paso or...we could once again rely on the wealth of knowledge that is the park ranger. We returned to the visitor's center with a "What now?" Mind you, we were kind of the middle of the Chihuahuan desert at the moment. It was she who sent us in the direction of Alamogordo, home to the world's largest (fake) pistachio. 

McGinn's Pistachioland is one of those bizarro roadside attractions that I absolutely adore. You can take a tour amongst the pistachio trees, buy pistachio souvenirs, sample flavored pistachios (including a garlic and honey concoctions created by Kelly Osbourne when the family visited for their Ozzy and Jack's World Detour show) or do a wine tasting, where all the wines are created using, you guessed it, pistachios. To my amazement, the wine was almost kind of good. 

We were wise enough to know there was no way to top a day filled with both the world's largest gypsum dunefield and its largest (fake) pistachio, so we made our way back to El Paso. We'd had a fantastic day, largely thanks to the US National Park Service and its dedicated stewards. I have to believe that the political pendulum will swing back towards sanity and hopefully soon but in the meantime, a lot of good, undeserving people are suffering. My heart goes out to all of the kind, helpful rangers I've met and those I have yet to meet that are going through it right now. You deserve better. We all deserve better. Unless you voted for this shitshow, in which case, may I recommend a hike on the Dune Life Nature Trail.