We arrived at night and slowly crawled our way up a rocky road at the base of the Panamint Mountains. The moon was full, which limited the number of stars visible for photography, but it illuminated the landscape beautifully. The desert felt vast and quiet, washed in silver light.
In the morning, we set out toward the Mesquite Flat Dunes from our camp. In the desert, distance is deceptive, and I had badly underestimated how far the dunes actually were. After nearly five hours of hiking across rough terrain, we finally reached them.
From the top of the highest dune, it became clear just how poor our route choice had been. The landscape was scarred by flash floods, cut with deep gullies that were difficult to cross or bypass. What looked manageable from afar had turned into slow, exhausting progress on foot.
The return journey was much easier. Heading downhill, we followed the gently sloping dunes until they gave way to a smooth sandy path that led us back to the van.
A few small lessons were learned that day. In the desert, nothing is as close as it looks, and the easy path is rarely the one you see first.