Once in a Lifetime Shot
Mountain Goat and I are on our way home from 2 weeks in Colorado (more on that later). On our way to Colorado, we stopped at Forrest Gump Point and Monument Valley in northern Arizona. The day we stopped, the moon was full, and we got to enjoy watching the moon rise over the rocks. After checking on the PhotoPills app, I told Mountain Goat that I wanted to stop on the way back because the Milky Way looked like it would align beautifully over the rock formations.
Two weeks later, we retraced the same steps, adding a stop at the Four Corners Monument (which we agreed was a, “We came, we saw,” experience that we don’t need to do again), and attempting to stay cool in the extreme heat that penetrated the windows of our Tahoe.
We arrived at Forrest Gump Point in time to see the sunset While there were lots of people, the crowd was smaller than I’d expected. People watched and waited for cars to pass to get the iconic photo looking west toward Monument Valley from the middle of the road, myself included, and jockeying for shots without other people in them. As soon as a car would pass, the road would fill with tourists, then clear as soon as a car was seen.
A couple posed on a dirt lot with their motorcycle for selfies. Families wrangled their kids for group photos. We ended up near three young men from Italy, who asked me to take their photo with my camera and send it to them on Instagram.
After we all watched the sun sink into the clouds and said our goodbyes, Mountain Goat and I noticed lightning to the south, and decided to try to find a good place to pull over to safely observe and hopefully photograph it. We looked on Waze and noticed a lollipop on the south side of the highway and went to check it out. A camper van was just leaving as we pulled in, and we drove to the end to find ourselves alone on a large raised dirt lot overlooking Monument Valley and the plains southeast of the rock formations. A lone shack stood, the kind common in this area, where Native vendors often set up shop to sell jewelry and other goods. The place looked defunct, with half the roof and walls missing, a haphazardly painted “open” sign nailed to the corner and scattered trash blown into the corners.
We got out of the car and walked to the edge of the lot to see frequent lightning to the south, going off a few times a minute. I hurried to set up my tripod and camera and aimed it to the south.
Photographing lightning is something brand new to me, and something this trip gave me the opportunity to try for the first time since really getting into photography. Lightning isn’t common where I live, but it’s always fascinated me, so getting to see it is always a treat. I had also been watching the forecasts in this area closely and none had predicted lightning, so it was a pleasant surprise. It was far enough that we could see it, but we couldn’t hear it.
I adjusted my camera settings several times to try to capture the lightning as the sky changed from the setting sun, continually adjusting for the decreasing light. As lightning fired off over and over, I checked my shots to see if I’d captured it, but had a hard time getting it with short exposure times with the light sky. As night fell, it became easier to leave my lens open long enough to capture it, and to my delight, I began to see the lightning in my shots.
The sky overhead began to reveal the stars as night fell, and I began to wonder if we’d be able to see the Milky Way as the sky darkened. I looked up periodically to see more and more stars, and eventually the white stripe of the Milky Way above me, meeting the horizon to the southwest, between the lightning and the rock formations. I adjusted the aim of my lens to see if I could get lucky enough to get the Milky Way and lightning in the same shot. I was elated to see that I could. This seemed like such a rare treat and I wanted to capture it before the clouds could shift and possibly end this magical opportunity. I turned on my phone and recorded a quick, excited clip to document this moment.
As I peered at the screen on my camera and captured some shots, a flash caught my eye to the west, near the rock formations. I gasped and immediately turned my camera to face the rocks. My camera set to shoot repeatedly, I watched in awe as the lightning flashed and desperately hoped that a flash appeared in at least one shot. I restrained myself from checking each time there was a flash, with all the patience of a toddler. Tears began to well up in my eyes and my skin raised with goosebumps as I considered the rarity of what I was witnessing and how I knew I’d never forget this moment.
Most of the lightning right behind the rock formations were merely flashes, no visible bolts from where we sat, but even still, it was incredible to witness.
Eventually I allowed myself to sift through the shots and was elated to have captured Monument Valley with the Milky Way AND lightning!
I continued to gather shots as the clouds eventually moved to hide the Milky Way, grateful I’d managed to record this rare gem during the short window of opportunity. Behind me, to the east, lightning began to flash, even closer than the southern lightning we’d been watching all evening. Mountain Goat and I watched in awe, and eventually I moved around the lot to try to capture it in interesting ways, including the Native vendor shack in a few shots.
Eventually, the adrenaline of the unexpected miracle of multiple natural phenomena all in one moment began to wear off and our exhaustion won over. At the same time, the lightning started to wind down and the winds and rain picked up, so Mountain Goat and I agreed it was time to head into Kayenta to check into our hotel to get some sleep for the next leg of our trek home.