FIRST GLIMPSE: More Crunch, Less Skroosh

Crunch…skroosh.*

Crunch. Crunch…skroosh.

With each upward step, my feet sank to my ankles—that is, when I didn’t just slide back to where I started.

Skroooooooosh.

Pausing to gasp for air, I wondered for the umpteenth time, “Why in the world am I doing this?” Powdery, fine sand filled my shoes, clogged my nose, plastered my skin and hair, and turned my sweat-stained shirt into a muddy mess. Shaking my head, I started upward again.

Crunch…skroosh.

I ruefully recalled my cheeky reply to a local’s warning about how tough the climb would be. “I’m from Florida; I know all about sand dunes.” It didn’t take this Florida boy long to learn there are sand dunes, and there are SAND DUNES. Nothing in my life had prepared me for a dune the size of a mountain!

Bruneau Dunes tower above the surrounding Idaho desert basin. Formed by receding floodwaters and eroding winds, the remarkable quartz and feldspar dunes are the tallest freestanding sand dunes in North America. Unlike other dunes, which form at the edges, Bruneau Dunes form in the center of the basin known as Eagle Cove Depression, trapped by constant swirling winds. This remarkable topography, unique in the Western Hemisphere, makes the dunes a must-see for any Idaho visitor with a penchant for the unusual. But the promise of a dune-top panorama had lost all appeal for this out-of-shape editor struggling just to breathe.

Crunch. Crunch…skroosh. Sweat. Repeat.

And, suddenly, I was there—a narrow ridgeline of sand marking the crest of the dunes. I hate to confess I didn’t gaze in wonder. I didn’t marvel at the jaw-dropping vista. No, I flopped full-length on the side of the dune and reached for the lukewarm Diet Coke in my backpack.

In the years since that exhausting climb, I have often reflected on what a wonderful analogy it provides for times of change. I don’t like change (not sure anyone does). I acknowledge transformation is often necessary. Sometimes, I even glimpse the benefits and rewards of potential change. But I dread the climb. I fear the shifting, sweating, and sliding through transition as I struggle with new skills, encounter (and hopefully overcome) unexpected challenges, and refuse to be overcome by failure.

My dunes hike gave me three simple guidelines for making the best of my occasional passage through change:

• Stop staring at your feet. Change tempts us to become self-absorbed—lost in our own little world of progress and regression, steps forward and slides back. Remember to look up. See the big picture. Remember the panorama waiting ahead. And keep on crunching.

• Pace yourself. Change is hard. It takes time. A mad dash or shortcut to the top can leave you gasping, hurting, and disillusioned. Be patient. Give yourself and others time to adjust.
  

• Enjoy the crest. Often, successful change leads to additional changes. Be sure to give yourself time to recover and enjoy the view from the top. The memories of those moments will carry you up the next dune.

* While Webster offers no official entry for the word skroosh, I humbly submit it perfectly describes the sound made by Nike running shoes on sand.


About the Columnist: Eric K. Thomsen is managing editor of ONE Magazine. Email: eric@nafwb.org.