We weren't really as close to the edge as it looks. We had a good extra foot or two before we plunged 3000 feet to the river and certain death. Piece of cake. Nothing to it.
We didn't even know there was anyone else here until we heard someone yell, "ARE WE IN YOUR SHOT?"
He's not in this one, but he was on the ledge in the left corner of the frame.
I yelled back, "NO, STAY THERE!"
There was no way I was not going to get this shot -- not after driving on the dirt road from hell -- sixty miles of the the bone-jarringest, back-breakingest, kidney-punchingest dirt road I've ever had the pleasure to drive. The worst part? The last five miles. They are BY FAR the hardest.
So getting two guys in a shot was a little plus I never counted on, but wasn't about to pass up -- especially with wind gusts of thirty miles an hour sand blasting us in the face and threatening to blow us over the edge.
I was worried that leaving after sunset it would be even tougher on the road going out, but I'd be lying if I said it was -- it actually seemed easier to see the lie of the road with just the illumination of the headlights. I even got it up to 65 on some of the straightaways near the end.