Ernst Tinaja Dust Storm

On our way back to camp, the radio crackled to life and Paul stated that we were in for a surprise.  Jeff fretted his Thermarest lay serrated across cacti thorns flopping in the wind.  I figured my POS tent came unstaked.  When we arrived, dust swept fast across the desert pelting anything in its path.  My tent violently shuttered in agony or maybe ecstasy as it held itself tight, twisted, wreathing and fucking itself so hard poles excreted out the sides.  I briefly attempted re-staking it and instead decided to tear down.   

I spent the rest of the evening holed up inside the jeep writing as the wind howled outside and sand pelted the doors.  Alan and Manuel briefly joined me.  Jeff opened and closed the car door 20-30 times that evening.  I later emerged briefly to piss and brush my teeth then made myself comfortable on my thermarest in the back and went to sleep feeling the Jeep rock to and fro in the 50 mph gust.  The next morning I learned that I found much more sleep than Jeff.