Eureka! I found it.

 

Rain cells pass over the Eureka Valley, the dunes bathed in sun on the distant left.
Multi-image panorama, Canon R, 24-105 @105mm

This post from my last day in Death Valley is coming a little later than I intended, as I had a busy schedule with work, getting prepared to leave for Texas to see the eclipse, cat/house sitting, and working on the project Vanagon I've got going on with my father. None of it turned out quite like I planned, which is why I have a tendency to not make "plans," but rather, rough puzzles of the things that need to get done trying to get fit with all the things I want to do. It seems as though it's only when I plan for something that it's sure to fall apart. 

My morning coffee view
Leica M10, Vario-Elmar-R 35-70mm 

None of this Death Valley trip was planned, and it turned out wonderfully. Even though I got skunked with clouds and rain all afternoon, the morning was beautiful. The direction of light was maybe less than ideal, but I was happy to make the most of what I could, under clear blue skies. I chatted with another solo guy I crossed paths with, one of the very few out there, and he tipped me off to the ponds sitting at the base of the dunes. Like the vernal pools on the bluffs at my beach, they don't typically last long. One had completely dried already, but the bigger one gave me enough to reflect on. 

I've been through the desert to a pond with no name.
Leica M11, Super Elmar 18mm

 I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I am in love with Dunes. It will always be so. There is something about the shapes and lines, drifting in the wind. These particular dunes happen to be some of the tallest in North America, standing 680 feet above the valley floor. They are also one of only about forty in the world that "sing" or boom, when avalanches are triggered. The phenomenon only happens during the summer when the sand is dry, so I didn't get to hear them, but what is amazing to me is they hit the musical notes of G, E or F. 

I love my drifting dunes
Leica M11, Super Elmar 18mm

Slip slidin' away
Leica M11, Super Elmar 18mm

The hike up to the summit is not an easy one. The sand seemed steeper and looser here than others I have visited, and the angles sharper, but it was worth the effort.

The Last Chance Mountains and the little dune pond
Hasselblad X1DII, 35-75 @ 35mm

While near the summit, a pair of F-15 Eagles made a pass fairly high above me (guessing around 5,000 feet, seeing as they were still above the mountain tops, which stand 4,000 feet taller than the valley floor). Flybys are fairly common out here, but they can be hard to see. You hear them, alright, but by the time you figure out where the sound is coming from and actually spot them, they are already high tailing out of sight. I only had the 180mm with, mounted on the M10. When I heard them come for a second time, I pulled it out of my backpack as quickly as I could.

Tough to spot, even tougher to shoot with a rangefinder and a 50 year old manual focus lens.
Leica M10, Apo-Telyt 180mm, cropped

You can feel the engines in your chest, especially when two are zipping through a valley like this
Leica M10, Apo-Telyt 180mm

At one point, they came in below me, guessing 500 feet off the ground, carving their way between the dunes and the mountains, pulling up just enough to slip over the ridge and disappear. It was awesome for me to see. That was the exact jet I had planned to fly for the Air Force when I was younger... but as I mentioned about anytime I plan, things worked out differently. As thrilling as it would be to fly one, I'm glad I went to camera college instead of the military.

Looking north up from the summit, back the way I came in
Leica M10, Apo-Telyt 180mm

Once again, my little van,
dwarfed by the landscape
Leica M10, Apo-Telyt 180mm

The morning sun was quickly rising, taking with it all the shapes that make these forms so beautiful to photograph. That's the thing about shooting dunes; lighting is everything, and you really only get a couple small windows per day that can make interesting photographs. I prefer the afternoon light, watching as the shadows slowly creep longer and deeper rather than slowly disappear into the overhead sun. But, as always, I work with what I've got.

I have a tendency to feel the need to see what's around that next corner up ahead, but having climbed the highest peak and the light flattening by the minute, I decided to circle back to my trusty van, waiting for me with lunch inside. 

No words. Just the dunes I love so much
Leica M11, Super Elmar 18mm

Proof I was there
Leica M11, Super Elmar 18mm

Cracked earth and the Last Chance Range
Leica M11, Super Elmar 18mm

Planet Earth, 2024
Hasselblad X1DII, 35-75 @35mm