The world saw a perfect, physics-defying spiral of sand. My reality was different. I was halfway through the Dakar Rally, running on fumes, when my phone started buzzing. They saw the polished final image; I was still covered in the dust where it was born.
It was a strange feeling. I was still out there, still in the desert heat, while this picture was taking on a life of its own. The impact didn’t fully hit me until I was at King of the Hammers in the U.S. People would see my Instagram and their eyes would light up: "Oh, you're the one who took that shot? Awesome!" It's a cool feeling to get that recognition.
Everyone assumes it was a one-in-a-million moment of luck in the heat of the rally. But here's the thing: it wasn't.
That photo isn’t a story of luck; it’s a story of process and precision. It wasn’t even taken at Dakar. It was born from a dedicated photoshoot organized by Red Bull, Ford and Grit Media Agency. I’ve shot this effect with various cars before — I know exactly how to execute it. It starts with finding the right location, knowing how to guide the driver, and understanding the finer details. Having captured many versions of this effect before, I decided to focus on perfecting it with the Raptor T1+.
It becomes a dance. It’s me on the radio with a pro like Mitch Guthrie Jr., telling him: "I need you to pass me by 10 centimeters," and knowing he’ll hit the mark exactly. We tried and tried, repeating the move. It’s not just taking a picture; it’s directing a moment until the quality of the sand, the angle of the sun, and the shape of the spiral are perfect. That image isn’t luck; it’s a repeatable technique, honed over years.
That controlled perfection is a world away from the beautiful, unpredictable chaos of the real Dakar. At the rally, you fight. You fight the car, you fight nature, and you fight exhaustion. For seven days straight, I lived on nothing but croissants and cortisol. Out there, you learn what really matters. Forget fancy gear; the one thing I can’t live without is a pack of wet wipes. After 12 hours of eating dust, just cleaning your face feels like the ultimate luxury.
The Raptor T1+ is a beast. You hear it before you see it. It has this raw, aggressive sound we all love. From one angle, it's a classic, angry American truck; from another, it’s a futuristic toy you dreamed of as a kid. It was the perfect subject for a shot that demanded both power and artistry.
I never planned to be the guy taking photos like that. It was a complete accident. Growing up in Poland, I wasn't good enough at skiing or snowboarding to keep up with my friends. So, to stay in the wolfpack, I picked up my dad’s camera and started shooting them instead. My path from those snowy mountains to that sandy spiral started with one call. Red Bull needed a photographer in Morocco… in two days. I’d never even been to another continent, but I said "yes", and eight years ago my sandy motorsport adventures began.
For anyone who wants to take their own "impossible" shot, my advice is simple: Start small. Go out with a friend and their beat-up truck and get it muddy. Learn your craft where the stakes are low. The things I do with professional drivers are calculated risks. You can't do that with an amateur; that's how you get hurt. The road to that one perfect photo is long, and it starts with the small stuff. The beginning isn't just important; in many ways, it's everything.
Marcin Kin is a motorsports photographer
