Elan's ready for a sand-flyin' ride.

The day began like many others days. I woke up to my morning coffee and rituals: the paper, breakfast, listening to music, showering. This was no ordinary day though, it would soon unravel as my friend Lennon and I carved our way through the windy roads to the Oregon sand dunes.

The drive there, without our dune destination, was a trip in and of itself. We cruised down Highway 126, my eyes peeled, enjoying the beautiful mosaic scenery. The drive out to the Oregon coast is marvelous, so exceptional that the famous Oregon-born author Ken Kesey wrote a whole book on the drive from Eugene to the coast, Sometimes a Great Notion. The snaking roads led me and Lennon by rivers, old deserted barns, farms, orchards, and vineyards painted with visual mastery.

The sides of the road were littered with trees of all splendors. Moss dripped from their arms, their furry coating some protection from the persistent wintry weather. Branches and moss draped over the snaking road, and the arms of the trees created crochet-shadowed patterns on the asphalt path. I sat in the cruising-by car [I like that, it reads nice], mesmerized by the beauty that nature was creating.

The sun peaked out from behind the cloudy skies. Reaching through the clutter of trees, it gently warmed my face. Rays seeped through the bundle of branches, luminescent outlines highlighting their figures. I melted into the beauty of the ride. We were on our way to the 400-mile stretch of Oregon coastline!

Eventually, Lennon and I stopped at a little shop 20 minutes from our destination. We stopped off at a tiny café, The Alpha-Bit Café. We strolled in and were welcomed both by the owners and an employee. The owner was sitting at the high-counter top, with his purple beret situated at a tilt on his head, his long curly tangles protruding from the French cap. A mitted-up woman, who I assume was his wife, rescued scones that were baking in the little oven.

"What can I help you with?" the woman asked as she reached into the oven.

"I'll take one of those juices," Lennon said.

"Ahhh, the peach nectar, that's a great choice!" the purpled beret owner added.

"Go ahead, just walk around the shop, do whatever pleases you," he said as his wife handed Lennon the sweet nectar.

The shop was ornamented with incense, tarot cards, jewelry, spirituality books, organic clothing, and perfumes. The owners and their help debated the "Today's Special" title in the background as we strolled about surveying the little novelties. "Death by chocolate, chocolate dreaming, chocolate decadence, Joy of Chocolate!" they decided. This seemed to be the most important decision of their day, as if hundreds of people were going to be enticed merely by the title and be drawn to its capturing magnetic words. Yes, I have to admit I was tempted though.

We proceeded to buy our little trinkets and learned that the employee was living in a commune, not uncommon for these parts, he told us. He asked in his country-drawn accent if we were from around these parts, then wished us well on our way.

Dune buggies consumed our thoughts though, as we headed back out towards our destination, for our next adventure. We arrived at Sand Dune Frontier in Florence, Oregon, and prepped for a wild ride through the towering hills of sandy mountains.

Mary, the owner, met us and welcomed our arrival. Her 10-year-old son John, padded with armor, rode past us on his quad. Russ was our guide, and the driver in charge of our fate on the coastal dunes.

I sat in the front of the buggy, which seats five. Lennon was behind Russ, and Mary behind me. The engine growled, daring Russ to begin the treacherous route ahead. Slowly the buggy made its way to the sandy dunes. We were propped on the peak of a dune, surveying the endless hills that screamed for our attention.

So no messing around – off we went!

We carved our way through the massive sandy slopes, inventing our course as we went. The buggy slowed at the tip of another dune. The steep side dropped off into an abyss. Hum, are we going to tip over, I thought, as we rapidly sliced down the sharp drop-off. Screams of laughter and excitement spewed from the three of us. Russ held his composure, as far as I could tell, but he was probably laughing at us in our screaming glory.

We rested the buggy for a moment and gave ourselves time to recompose. We glanced back at the tattooed carvings that we had traced on the flesh of the sand, and then we were off again, soaring through the sandy hills, in search of the ocean.

But not without traversing a river, of course. Mary had informed us that it had not been that full for eight years. Great, I thought, with a gleam of excitement in my eyes.

"Can we make it?" Mary asked her boys, who sat behind us on their quads, observing.

"Avery, go check how deep it is," Russ commanded of Mary's 16-year-old son.

It was quite deep.

But we all said we were up to it, so we splashed through the watery way. The white crests of the oceans waved to us when we appeared through the passage. A straight stretch of shoreline welcomed the tranquil moments of the ride, where long-legged tiny birds hastily walked in circles, confused by our roaring existence. The sunrays shone on our faces as the waves cracked beside the buggy. Birds flew overhead, and people strolled along the beach ways in pure oceanic bliss. Serenity fell as we soared on the coastal sands, lacing the shore with our trail that would be erased by the waves.

The hour-long ride came to an end as we slowly bounced over the moguls created by the many vehicles that pounce through here. These natural speed bumps are called "Whooptey Doo's", Russ said; dune buggying, like other activities, has a language and culture truly all its own.

The journey was both exhilarating and relaxing. The chill of the wind and the thrilling chills of the ride were like nothing else I'd ever experienced. This day was a trip! From the purple-beret wearing friends we made, to the beauty revealed on the drive, to the wild ride through the sandy maze of towering hills, all was gifted with a trail of memories. The tracks we had made created a tapestry of interwoven moments that would be a souvenir of the mind. The day was well-lived, and momentous at every turn. The magic of the oceanic splendors and the scenic route provided the pathway to one fine day!

Ride Time
If you would like more information about dune buggying, visit www.visitormags.com/dunes.

So maybe you're saying, "Yeah, but I don't live on the coast. What can I do?"

Here are a few suggestions:

• Rent mopeds in your town. Drive around for an hour and enjoy the fun these little cycles bring.
• Rent quads/ATVs and take them out on dirt roads for a day.
• Or, simply take your car, I'd advise a truck, and find some dirt roads where you can go four-wheeling.

Have an awesome ride!

What Do You Want Élan to Do Next?
Click here to send Élan ideas, suggestions or comments on ways to fire up the local hometown traveler experience.