As I was making my way down the final hill faster than a human being should move, I realized that on the back feet-first is the worst way to go.
The sand rifled into my pants (among other places) as though I were a plastic bag catching wind outside a racecar.
I should have known, as hiking up the hill had worn me out from its steepness.
I had been practicing on the main hill for about an hour, getting to the point where I could reliably stand up on the board (only backflipping off once!). I got tips from some German youths I met two days prior. I felt prepared. The big hill, however, was a double black diamond compared to the bunny hill before it.
Before going down, I told myself don’t think just do it. And I did.
On the way down, I remember thinking, “Man, this is going to hurt when I fall.” Not if I fall, but when.
Lisa trailed behind with no board to aid her down. She went down slowly and cautiously, holding her stuff as well as mine.
She did not look amused.
The $15 NZ to rent a board, however, was money well spent.
The pictures can’t capture how huge the dunes were. I guess that’s why they’re called the “Giant Dunes.”
The dunes appear out of nowhere in the countryside. You expect there to be fewer trees, and the landscape easing itself into the dunes near Te Paki. That is not the case. There is just a line that separates dense forest from sprawling sand dunes.
Quite the experience.