This article was originally published on Photography Life, and is being republished in full on DPReview with express permission from Spencer Cox.
One of the windiest nights Iīve ever taken pictures turned into perhaps the single most rewarding-and frightening-landscape photography experience of my life. I was on the Mesquite Sand Dunes in Death Valley, a place I had visited twice in the past, though under much tamer conditions. This night, the gusts of wind were far greater than I had seen before, and they kicked up a layer of sand that made for amazing sunset photos. But as the day came to a close, it was clear I had entered uncharted waters.
Even before sunset, the wind was fairly heavy. Sand stung at my feet, but it wasnīt any worse than a breezy day at the beach. I had a scarf over my nose and mouth to avoid inhaling too much dust, and I wore sunglasses to protect my eyes.
It was a beautiful sunset. The clouds were something special-patchy, orange, blue, and dark. The atmosphere was perfect for photography. Over the course of an hour, I made a series of mad dashes from dune to dune in search of the best composition, and I captured a handful of shots I liked along the way. The whole time, in the distance, one dark cloud was lower than the rest. Although it stood out somewhat, I filed it away in the back of my mind as I focused on capturing other parts of the landscape.
Soon, the day had ended. The sun dipped out of view, and the light began to fade even further. I saw, then, how far I had traveled. I was already at the tallest dune, which rose next to me in a gentle slope. The best colors in the sky had ended, but I decided to climb this last peak to see the view before turning back for the night.
That was when the air began to change. The low, dark cloud I noticed earlier had grown much closer, and the reality of my situation became obvious: this was not a typical low-hanging cloud, but, instead, a sandstorm. The wind picked up in power ...
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