The worst Photoshoot. Ever.

I shot these images over five years ago, they were taken roughly one hour before the night took a horrific turn for the worse. This is the story of the worst photoshoot -- EVER!

First, I must say that Katherine is probably the main reason I eventually became a decent photographer. I started shooting her in 2001 and it is still my pleasure to shoot her almost eight years later, I'm shooting her again tomorrow as a matter-of-fact! She has been a tremendously good sport and the mere fact that she even still talks to me after what happened five years ago is insane, thank you Katherine!

So, onto the story. We drove towards the Nevada border, about 40 minutes west of Salt Lake City before turning off at the Dugway exit. For those of you that don't know, there is NOTHING at the Dugway exit. Just a long paved road that leads to a military nuclear waste plant and the skeletal remains of a long abandoned gas station.

We arrived and shot a couple images at the gas station while a lone, broken down semi-truck, along with it's driver, watched from a distance. Eventually his watching made us both feel a little weird so we decided to explore further south, down the single lane road. We discovered what appeared to be an ancient, dried up lake bed. It was solid as a rock so we drove out and shot until sun-down on the crackled dirt. With a completely unobstructed view of the setting sun, and a bright white giant reflector at our feet we were able to capture some amazing face shots and continued shooting until the sun disappeared below the horizon.

That's when the trouble started, as the sun went down the air unexpectedly cooled very quickly, and by the time we made it back to my car we were both freezing. I loaded up the gear and we set off to leave, but there was trouble. The once cement lake bed had become a mushy mud soup, after making it about two feet my Xterra was sunk to its axles in thick, dark mud. So, we got out and dutifully did a little digging, and a little pushing and a little peeling out and within minutes the three of us (Katherine, the car, and I) were covered in mud. It would have almost been funny if it weren't for the biblical swarm of mosquitoes that started to arrive.

I have no idea what these mosquitoes ate when there weren't people stuck in the mud because there wasn't a living thing in sight, yet suddenly every mosquito in a 10 mile radius was charging into us. It probably didn't help that my car was bright yellow, and apparently the mosquitoes LOVE yellow. The ones that weren't distracted by vigorously attacking me and Katherine were attaching themselves and covering the yellow paint almost completely. We dashed for safety inside without even spending a split second thinking about all the gloppy mud we were wearing. We slammed the doors and immediately realized that oh, about a million mosquitoes followed us inside.

Did I mention we were too far in the middle of nowhere for my cell phone to work? Well we were.

Back to the story. This is the part where Katherine lost her ever-loving-mind. Instead of calmly killing the bajillion mosquitoes (the million from earlier had kids) and then thinking through our situation like reasonable adults she just jumped out and started running like a crazed lunatic. Screaming, and swatting. Swatting and screaming. I figured she would eventually realize her mistake and turn around and come back, but she didn't. She made it to the pavement and started running towards the freeway, swatting and screaming, screaming and swatting.

"Great," I thought to myself. Now I have to follow her because we all know this is how horror movies start, and I didn't want someone to kill her. I needed to keep her alive as a distraction for when the killer came after ME! Juuuust kidding... mostly.

So off I went, into the sea of soupy mud and starving mosquitoes. She had a good quarter mile lead, and since she was absolutely out-of-her-flipping-mind she had a good deal more adrenaline than me so as we ran the mile or two or three back to the freeway she kept putting more and more distance between us. Plus I had to stop to pick up her shoes, which apparently abandoned her when they realized she had gone insane.

As it got darker and darker I started to wonder what our plan was. Maybe we'd eventually get cell phone service closer to the freeway, maybe we would have to spend the night in the car, maybe we could throw shoes at the passing cars on the freeway until eventually one of them stopped... about the time I started wondering what Katherine's arm would taste like I realized something that scared the living piss out of me! The trucker was still there! The trucker was getting out of his truck! Katherine was talking to the trucker! Katherine was GETTING INTO THE TRUCK! All joking aside, this was seriously starting to sound like a horror movie.

Now I started running like I was insane! Mosquitoes started splatting against my face, the five extra pounds of mud on my shoes started exploding onto the pavement, brown goo sploshing about with every powerful step like I was throwing rocks into a sewage treatment plant.

It seemed like an eternity before I reached that truck, but when I finally did Katherine was still alive. Visibly terrified (her sanity had just recently returned) but alive. We shared the truckers passenger seat and made a one-bar cell phone call to a tow truck, which was a half hour away (assuming they left at that instant - which they didn't).

So for the next hour or so Katherine and I were regaled by tales from the most well-meaning trucker in the world, who, by the way, was waiting for someone to come fix a flat tire. When he found out that we were there doing a photoshoot he pulled a photo album out from under his seat. I know what you're thinking, we had to look through boring vacation photos, and Christmases, and photos of the kids... but you would be wrong. We happened to pick the trucker that had been to the "Testicle Festival" just last summer. What is the Testicle Festival you ask? Well, we made that same mistake, and that's why he pulled the album out.

The Testicle Festival is apparently an annual event where the oldest, most unattractive people in the world all gather together for a big pile of naked posing for inappropriate photos. I have no idea who develops photos taken at the testicle festival, but that person should not be allowed to develop photos anymore.

Katherine and I, of course, had to act very impressed by this photo album. One, we feared death and the even greater fear was being banished to the mosquitoes outside. We over did it though. Our impressed act was so convincing that the second album made it's appearance. The second album was comprised of photos taken by said truckers wife, and yes, this time the trucker was in the photos.

Why is it that when you are attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes they never have the courtesy to suck the blood out of your eyes?

Yay! The tow truck is here!

"There is no way this truck will pull you out of that mess." So says the only nearby authority on tow-trucks.

Fast forward through the next two hours as Katherine and I are piled into the front seat of a tow truck on the drive back to Tooele to pick up a damn SNOW CAT, then the drive back to the mud death pit of mosquitoes, oh hey the Testicle Festival guy is still here... "Hello! Thanks for letting us see your kibbles and bits," we yell as we pass him by.

Now onto the search, in pitch darkness, for my car. Mind you we have no idea where we drove off the road. This part of the story takes a really, really long time and it consists of Katherine waiting inside the truck as me and the snow cat driver drive around the muddy lake. Katherine is too scared of the mosquitoes to step outside and every minute we spend away from her I can't help but think that she is a goner. For sure, she's a goner. "Oh, there's no way she's going to make it," I think to myself.

Finally! There's my car! Oh, my what a depressing, muddy sight. The snow cat easily pulls it onto the pavement, I climb into the muddy tomb and start driving to pick up Katherine's body... wait! She's still alive? This horror movie has a HAPPY ending!

Well sort of happy. 7.5 hours after arriving we are leaving with a camera full of stunning photos. We are tired, itchy, muddy... but alive! Now for the 40 minute drive back home to make the whole ordeal just a tad over eight hours.

Katherine, you're the best! I'm glad you lived.