You know that feeling when you’re anxious because you know you need to get to sleep right away, since you have to get up in a couple of hours? Well, that’s how I was feeling at 3:00 AM last Friday. Of course, feeling like I have to get to sleep right away was keeping me up, so when my alarm went off at 5:30 AM, I knew I’d only had about two hours of sleep. And I had a really long day ahead of me.
I was in a motel in Indio, California—for those who aren’t familiar with the area, it’s about three hours south of Los Angeles. In my quest to shoot different and more interesting pictorials for my upcoming personal website, I was doing crazy shoots such as taking Kayden Kross out to the Salton Sea, a mostly abandoned town in the middle of the desert. I knew there were some shells of buildings near the water (Salton Sea is actually a huge lake), but I wasn’t entirely sure where it was. My friend Beatrice, a photographer who has shot down there many times, gave me some directions, but I didn’t have any specific address I could punch into my navigation system. I hate getting lost more than anything, so this made me very nervous. In fact, shooting anywhere that isn’t completely planned out in my head, or in a controlled environment, makes me very nervous, but I knew that forcing myself to shoot outside my comfort zone was the only way I was going to develop a style different to the other photographers—namely my mother.
This is why I dragged Kayden, my webmaster, and my makeup artist to the middle of nowhere. That morning, after we jumped in the car and headed towards our destination, I silently fretted about finding places to shoot. Since it was November and I knew I was losing the sun around 5:30, I didn’t have as much time as I’d like to wander aimlessly around this desolate landscape. Also, I didn’t have any kind of permit for shooting out here—especially the kind of content I planned to shoot. Though I doubted the area would be heavily policed, I’m generally a good girl who likes to follow the rules. I didn’t like the idea of getting in trouble for shooting illegally on public lands, and I especially didn’t like the idea of having to cancel the shoot if any authority figures happened to stumble upon my dirty little project.
Of course, what I’d feared would happen did happen. Perhaps it was because I stopped by the only store in the area to ask for directions to “the abandoned buildings and other cool places to shoot.” This was a general store and a bar combined, and at 9:30 AM, the bar was packed with about 20 people, which was probably half of the town’s population. After I’d unintentionally introduced myself to the townspeople and essentially announced that I was doing a photo shoot nearby, random cars and golf carts appeared from the town, slowly circling the area I was shooting in and curiously watching me. This was only a minor annoyance until the park ranger showed up.
“What are you doing?” he drawled as he leaned out of his window, trying to catch a glimpse of Kayden, who was hiding in the shack.
“A student project,” I said breezily. “My friend is a photographer who has shot up here many times, and she suggested it to me for an assignment that I have. Is there something wrong?”
“Well, technically, you should ask for permission to shoot here and have a permit. But if this isn’t a commercial project… what school do you go to?”
“Brooks Institute,” I lied. (Well, sort-of lied—I did go to Brooks, that was just 10 years ago.)
“Well, since nobody has complained and you’re a student, there’s nothing I can do except say have a good time.” He paused and looked at me for a moment. “Everyone is keeping their clothes on, right?”
“Of course! What kind of shoot do you think this is?” I asked in mock indignation. I think my webmaster was trying to suppress a giggle next to me, but I kept my eyes locked in earnestness on the ranger. “I’m not that kind of photographer, you know.”
“Of course,” responded, seeming a bit embarrassed. “Well, next time see if you can get yourselves a permit. Otherwise, have a good shoot!”
He drove off, and I headed back towards our shooting spot. “Okay,” I announced to Kayden, “Tits back out!”
After that close call, I wasn’t really comfortable staying in that spot, so we decided to drive in pursuit of somewhere else to shoot. Since I had no idea where to go, we got back on Highway 111, and when I came to an unmarked dirt road that appeared to lead back to the water’s edge, we took it. There were some RVs camped out there, but we found a quiet and deserted spot near some small crumbling buildings (surprise!). We found an abandoned men’s public toilet, complete with toilets in various levels of decomposition. The floor was caked in dirt, and there were holes in the walls—obviously, this place hadn’t been used in years. I put Kayden in a waist-cincher and fetish boots—very simple, yet very dramatic. Kayden is so gorgeous, you can put anything (or nothing) on her and she looks amazing.
Finally, the sun was starting to set, so I wanted to get some more casual looks by the water. Unfortunately, there was going to be no typical getting-in-the-water shots—it was disgusting and filled with floating, dead fish, and the “sand” was actually crushed shells and more dead fish. However, with the low sun and the water in the background, Kayden looked like she could have been in Hawaii.
After the sun dipped below the horizon, we began to pack up. I was feeling very tired, but very satisfied with the day’s events. I knew I at least had some good stories to tell—little did I know I was about to have one more.
Once the truck was packed up and everyone was inside, I put my car in reverse and began to back out. Except… I wasn’t going anywhere. It turns out that I’d parked too close to the sand—indeed in it—so my front wheel was stuck. We tried everything: pushing, wooden boards under the wheel, but nothing would move my stubborn SUV. I had no choice but to call AAA.
Of course, I had several problems. First of all, I couldn’t get any reception on my phone, so in the end, I had to use Kayden’s IPhone to get ahold of the towing company. I was also in the middle of nowhere, so I didn’t know how to give them directions, which also meant that AAA didn’t cover “off road” assistance —so I was going to have to pay the tow truck driver $300 to pull me out. Kayden had her huge Ford truck (but no chains... otherwise, she could have pulled me out), so she drove me to the highway, where we’d seen a border patrol just a few meters south of the road we were on. Since they were checking people coming the other way on Highway 111, we pulled into the station the wrong way. The guards freaked out a little and came charging towards our car (keep in mind these guys are armed), but when I jumped out and they saw we were just two blonde white girls, they relaxed a little. I told them my story, and a guard named Jason took pity on me and even offered to let me use their phone. They took me inside the station and helped me give the tow truck driver directions. Jason even promised to show the driver exactly where we were when he came through the border patrol.
Kayden and I headed back to my car, sat under the stars, and ate Fig Newtons until the tow truck arrived. About one minute before he got there, some toothless locals came by to ask what we were doing out here. They said they’d been watching us for over an hour and finally decided to come by. They offered to pull us out, but of course my $300 knight in shining armor had arrived. It was ironic: Since I I’d been shooting a naked girl, I’d spent all day trying to avoid these locals. It turned out in the end that I really needed them, but by the time they came to our aid, it was too late. But they still had to stand by, drink their beer, and tell the tow truck driver how to pull me out of the sand. After much debating about whether I should be in neutral or reverse, I was out. I thanked the locals, reluctantly handed over my credit card to the tow truck driver, and we were on our way.
When I was home three hours later, I ran myself a hot bubble bath and decided to download my photos while the tub was filling up. Being the obsessive person that I am, I became fixated on my new photos and left the water in my tub (yes, I turned off the tap) to go cold. Finally, a couple of hours later I added some hot water, climbed in, and sank down into the bubbles. My feet hurt, my eyes itched, and I had dirt under my fingernails that I just could not get out, but I was happy for it. I knew that doing my own thing would be a lot of work, but it is work I’m very happy to do. I knew I would sleep well that night.