True story. Slightly off-topic, but true.
Night exterior, Eureka Dunes, CA. Last month, an hour after sunset.
I've just completed a very satisfactory sunset shoot in the dunes and I'm making supper for myself and my travelling companions, my quadriplegic pal and his service dog.
A red jeep rolls up in the darkness and parks nearby. It's one of those rentals that you see all over Death Valley. A photographer emerges, gathers up his gear and disappears into the night.
"I wonder what he's up to?" I muse to my supper companions.
A half hour or so later, he re-appears. "How'd you make out?", I ask as he passes our campsite.
"Not good", he says. "I got here too late."
No kidding.
We got to chatting and learn that he's staying in Furnace Creek, several hours away. We also learn that he's woefully unprepared for life in Death Valley, lacking so much as a drop of water, let alone a map. He gratefully accepted our offer of water, of which he drank copiously. He wouldn't stay for supper, though. From looking at our maps he'd realized just how far it was back to the hotel and was anxious to leave. We actually tried to convince him to spend the night at the dunes, it being a safer alternative than the nighttime traverse of the empty, twisting, narrow mountain roads back to his hotel, but no.
He was an engaging conversationalist and I asked him what he did for a living.
"Oh, I'm in IT. I work for Adobe managing their cloud services."