I had the opportunity to photograph a Border Patrol tracking operation about 25 miles north of the border. We had lost the trail and I had just picked up the sign again. Four to five people carrying a load, their footprints deeper and more defined than ours, the sign of a group of “backpackers” — border patrol-speak for drug runners. I was pushing north with agent S.K. following a group of desert ghosts who at times seemed to float over the ground without leaving a trace, making us lose time walking in circles. I looked down to find that my hands had placed the heavy barrel of the 70-200mm 2.8 on my camera as I pushed through the thorny mesquite brush, the image I wanted flickering in my mind. Looking up, I saw the helicopter called in to assist in the search lined up in the distance behind the agent as we walked north: the image for which I’d been looking.