Almost surreal, the desert oasis of Huacachina is surrounded by what looks like a towering tidal wave of sand, frozen in motion and about to crush the modest collection of homes, hotels and restaurants that line the calm central pool. According to Peruvian poet Jose Santos Chocano, the oasis is "the broken mirror of an enamored princess." To add to the mystique, the waters are rumored to possess curative powers. But I didn't go to the desert to find water obviously - I wanted sand.
When I arrived in the morning, after a four - hour drive from Lima, I stopped an old man in the street and asked where to rent a sandboard. He told me I could rent them from the several vendors along the water's edge. Then, like so many others before me, he warned me of rateros, thieves. He nodded to the tallest of the dunes. Beyond, he told me, is a village, and at times shady characters wander over here to the oasis. Don't walk around on the other side of the dunes. It seemed like a lot of work for thieves to be in the hot sand where any wary traveler would see them long before they could become a threat. But I noted the warning.
Finding a board was not difficult. A man from a waterside cafe summoned me over and offered one before I could even ask. He led me to a closet full of old snowboards, some retrofitted for sand, and I randomly chose one. For a whopping three soles ($1 US) per hour, who can complain? At the dunes, there were no lifts, no trails. You just climbed up where you liked and off you went. The vendor suggested a place for me to start: the tallest dune I have ever seen in my life. on my trudge to the top, a couple mountain bikers came hurtling past me in a direct run for the bottom. What I had initially though was mostly dramatic scenery was turning out to be a desert amusement park.
From the top of the dune, I could see vast stretches of undulating sand. Below, like some kind of mirage, the smooth waters of the Lagoon of Huacachina defied the brutal desert as much as they reflected the blue sky and surrounding sculptured sand. What the hell was I doing? The closest I had ever come to extreme sports was riding public buses in Central America. A line of palms awaited me at the bottom of a very steep slope. I wondered how to stop when I arrived there.
But stopping be damned, I was there to sandboard, not stare at the sand. I strapped myself onto the board, stood up, and slid several meters down the dune before falling and discovering I'd lost my hat. I sat well below it until I figured out I could paddle the sand beneath it and it would eventually slide to my level. Two more attempts to descend the dune ended in comic explosions of misplaced beach; my pockets were becoming heavier every time I stood up, and I realized I had no need to fear the trees at the bottom - I would have plenty of time to figure out how to stop. Eventually, however, I got the hang of it. And what a rush!
The first moment was a misleading disappointment. I would stand for a second and the board would creep forward, threatening to stop altogether, but suddenly, gravity would overcome the force of friction and the sand would sizzle beneath my feet. The dune was steep and the acceleration sudden. I kept trying to angle across the slope to avoid a straight reckless run to the bottom (called a "drag" in the lingo of sandboarding), but too many cutbacks takes the wind out of the sails. Essentially, you can maneuver the board much as you would on snow, but with the same twists and turns throwing up fine plumes of sand.
The contour of the dune is perpetually shifting, and in some areas small dips or the merging lips of other dunes create potential for air time (or eating sand time in my case.) Stopping was not something I could do on demand. My solution was simply to fall and tumble until I'd bulldozed a wall of sand in front of me. Thankfully, the palms at the bottom of the dunes proved to be out of range and no threat of collision. At high speed, a tumble can be a bit jarring, but in a moderate spill the soft sand envelopes you and cushions the fall. Speed is the difference between a warm pillow and sandpaper. After every fall I got up caked with a fine layer of natural sunblock wherever my sweaty skin was exposed. once I lined up and leaned downhill again, the hot desert air was slipping past, hissing like a hundred snakes.
The climb demands that you be patient and take frequent breaks to replace fluids, but all the work aside, the experience is a combination of dream and adrenaline. As I dumped the last load of dune from my shoes, I looked back up the slope to where another mountain biker was splitting the sands in a mad rush for the bottom. Hmm . . . Something to do in the afternoon?
T H E L O W D O W N
Where to Go
If you are traveling Peru, and can handle the thrill, this is not something to be missed. Huacachina is easy to get to. The hotels are slightly on the resort price scale, so I opted to stay in Ica, five kilometers away and reachable by a public bus or a taxi ride that costs less than $1.50. Ica has the added attraction of being the nation's wine capital and foremost producer of pisco, the national liquor. (Where there are free tours, there are free samples.) Additionally, it is a good home base for a day trip to the Nazca Lines, and it's a break from the long haul from Lima to Cuzco. This route–as opposed to the direct run from Lima to Cuzco, which takes over 25 hours and rapidly gains altitude - has the benefit of acclimating the traveler to the drastic change from sea level to nose - bleed heights. Also: The annual Festival of the Siren of Huacachina is in February, and though it has nothing to do with sandboarding, it would be a cool combination of culture and adrenaline to mix the two.
Don't Forget
It is best to go sandboarding in the morning, when there are fewer people and the sun isn't blazing high in the sky. Sunscreen is an absolute necessity, and water should be a serious concern. The heat is that dry variety that everyone tells you isn't as bad. Whatever. It's an inferno. Drink plenty. Vendors sell refreshments at slightly inflated prices and there are some cheap places to eat at the base of the dunes. Since the taxi ride is quick and convenient, I personally returned to Ica to get the sand out of my underwear first and ate there.
Be sure to examine your board. Some of them are cracked or have damaged bindings. It is a royal pain to sit in the hot sand struggling with a binding, as I did on my final run. I watched as both bindings came undone, and my board careened down the slope much better without me.
For more info on Peru, visit out Travel Peru page.
Photos courtesy of Sandboard.com