I’d hope we could go to Arrakis, but I’ve been told it doesn’t really exist. So, we chose the dunes outside of Florence. Oregon.
We’d done our research. We’d watched videos. We’d found out what was the best company. We’d booked our adventure. We were good to go.
The weather, well, that was perfect and most of the family was joining us on adventures, even Baba, though she’d chosen to go on the touring dunebuggy, as opposed to the bad-ass, up the side of dunes, and fly over the top of them, one.
Now, I could try and find the words to describe it, but we had a go-pro installed on someone’s head, so why not see what we saw. FYI. The person screaming like a little girl is not, in fact, me, despite what people may have said.