Finding Myself

We drove over the desert sand in the 4-wheel-drive vehicle over the white sand through what looked like sweltering desert. The vehicle stopped unexpectedly, and sixteen of us piled out of the vehicle. We stood amongst giant sand dunes and twenty-foot trees. In his Australian accent, the guide explained that the “trees” we saw were merely the tops of the trees— the desert had formed around them, and we were actually standing atop a forest.

How humbling.

The guide pointed three hundred feet up to the top of a nearby sand dune, explaining that we would climb up, and toboggan down.

…What?

The guide handed each of us a blue mat, and we (slowly) climbed the sand dune. Halfway up, my calves and quads felt as though they were going to burn through my linen capris. Reminding myself which foot should sink into the sand next, I finally arrived to the top, collapsing in an exhausted heap atop my mat. When it came my turn, I stood and nervously carried the blue foam mat to the guide. He instructed on the proper way to toboggan— on one’s stomach, facing down, toward the bottom of the dune. All I could imagine was plummeting face-first into the sand as the guide gave a good push.

I didn’t! plummet I soared across the sand as though it were glass— my teeth clenched as the wind rushed through my hair. Slowly, the toboggan came to an exasperated halt. I paused a moment and crossed hands over knees, shakily standing tall. I looked back at the dune I had just sailed down, and looked at my mat. What a rush. It was so great, I decided to do it again! Back I climbed up the dune, legs burning, to feel the incredible rush once again.

Although it was almost ten years ago, I close my eyes, imagining the smell of the salty Australian air, and feel the sensation of flying down a sand dune that has blanketed an entire forest. It is a day that has been ingrained on my heart and in my mind.