up and down and up again

I visited Jockey's Ridge most recently as a teen.  And while my memory isn't quite what it used to be, I remembered, or at least was pretty sure I remembered, a spectacularly HUGE sand dune.

But as we started the trail shrouded in scrub brush trees that led away from the parking lot, I began to wonder if my faulty memory had played a trick on me.

This certainly didn't look promising.

And a massive expanse of sand was what I had promised my kids...

When the path finally dumped us into an area that made me feel we were at the edge of the Sahara, the barrage of skeptical questions began.

"Is this the beginning of the giant sand dune?"

"When will we see the biggest sand dune ever?"

And of course, the ever popular,

"Are we there yet?" (with the tone that implied, "Cause if we are, this is bogus.")

And then we turned the corner.  The sheer size of the sand dune ahead stopped them all in their tracks.  My mini-me exclaimed, "Oh. my. GOODNESS!"  He was so excited that his little voice cracked as he went on, "Mommy!  Mommy.  Look Mommy!  We climb it?  Look at sand Mommy!  We climb?"

All it took was a head nod to send them scrambling.

Up they went.

Just as fast as their little legs could carry them.

And what to do once at the top of the tallest mountain of sand you've ever seen?

Why...run down of course.

Then climb up again.

And repeat.

Over and over again.

I lost count of how many times they went down and struggled to continue moving their exhausted bodies back up before they ran down again after seven round trips...

Sure, there were a few pauses.  Sand angels to make...

Positions to defy gravity on the edge of the slope.

But there seemed to be something joyful about the out of control run back down.

Something so innocently fun, so alluring, that Ian had to try.

And then of course I just couldn't say no that that little face when he held out his hand and said, "You run wif me Mommy?"

So glad my memory did not disappoint...