Dune Rider September 17, 2007Posted by isabelleinnamibia in Uncategorized.
As I stood at the top, I could see the ocean in distance, from where the chilling fog was rolling in across the desert. Another ocean peaked and troughed beyond where I was standing, as the sand ebbed and flowed for a thousand kilometres, with dunes reaching hundreds of metres above sea level.
I was standing atop Dune 7, on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean and the Namib Desert, and it was time to go down. I dug my front foot forward, shifted my weight angled downwards, and I was away. The sand was initially sticky against the snowboard that was strapped to my feet, but as the fog dampness burnt off, the sheer gradient of the dune and the wax on the board led me to fly straight down at top speeds.
I’d picked the perfect day to go sand boarding. With my parents safely off on a boat trip to see seals, dolphins, pelicans and the dunes from the sea, I snuck off for a little adrenaline-hunting. I was the only boarder wanting to go that day, so I had Wayne, aka Mr Sandboard, all to myself. This meant that he would zip me up the dune on his quad bike to slide down as many times as I liked.
After a year without surfing (doh!), this was the next best thing. The first few runs were a little messy, landing backwards and upside down on my first run (sand down my shorts), and getting a face-full on my second run (sand everywhere else). But soon I was shooting down, carving up the sand as I went. My stoke was officially back to play, and despite getting sand everywhere, it was certainly the rush I had been looking for.
That alone is worth a trip to Namibia.