跟隨無人機(jī)，深入中國沙漠化重災(zāi)區(qū)

Times Insider delivers behind-the-scenes insights into how news, features and opinion come together at The New York Times. In this piece, Josh Haner, a staff photographer and senior editor for photo technology, takes us to the Tengger Desert on a recent assignment for a continuing series about climate change.

“時(shí)報(bào)內(nèi)情”(Times Insider)專欄為讀者呈現(xiàn)《紐約時(shí)報(bào)》新聞、專題報(bào)道以及評論的幕后故事。在本篇文章中，攝影記者兼圖片技術(shù)高級編輯喬希·哈內(nèi)爾(Josh Haner)前不久在進(jìn)行一次有關(guān)氣候變化的系列報(bào)道時(shí)，帶我們走進(jìn)了騰格里沙漠。

The scenery is breathtaking, but I feel helpless: We’re a half-hour drive from where we need to be, and the sunset means that my assignment — along with the limited time left on my visa — is slipping away from me.

景色令人驚嘆，我卻感到無助：我們離要去的地方還有半個(gè)小時(shí)的車程，日落意味著我的任務(wù)——以及我簽證上剩下的有限時(shí)間——正在從我身邊溜走。

The truth is, the drivers here aren’t accustomed to journalists. Their usual customers are tourists looking for a roller-coaster ride through the dunes — which explains the death metal blasting from the radio and what seems to be a broken axle. The music should have been my first clue.

事實(shí)是，這里的司機(jī)對記者不熟悉。他們的顧客通常是想坐一次沙丘過山車的游客。這也解釋了收音機(jī)里傳出的死亡金屬以及現(xiàn)在遇到的問題：似乎是一根輪軸斷了。那音樂應(yīng)該是給我的第一個(gè)提示。

But now, halfway to Moon Lake, we’re watching the sun go down, and I’m missing the opportunity to make the picture.

但現(xiàn)在，在離月亮湖還有一半路的地方，我們只能看著太陽漸漸落下。我正在錯(cuò)失拍攝機(jī)會。

Getting here wasn’t easy: a 14-hour red-eye flight to Beijing, a two-hour plane ride to Yinchuan (after a series of cancellations and delays because of summer thunderstorms — along with a four-hour nap in an airport hotel), a two-hour drive to the edge of the Tengger, and a rapid price negotiation to get a dune-capable vehicle.

一路來到這里不容易：先是坐14個(gè)小時(shí)的紅眼航班到北京，然后坐兩個(gè)小時(shí)的飛機(jī)到銀川(在這之前因?yàn)橄募纠子辏桨喽啻伪蝗∠脱舆t起飛，我還在機(jī)場的一家賓館小睡了四個(gè)小時(shí))，之后再坐兩個(gè)小時(shí)的汽車到騰格里沙漠邊緣，最后再經(jīng)過一場匆忙的討價(jià)還價(jià)，找到一輛能在沙丘地帶行駛的車。

Making the pictures hasn’t proved easy, either. For traveling purposes, I had brought along a relatively small drone, and I knew it would be a trade-off: Smaller and lighter means it is more susceptible to being swept up in a windstorm, which would make the footage unusable. We also have to get very creative when launching and landing the drone to ensure minimal sand exposure. I’d already ruined one in an assignment months before by getting sand in the motor. I couldn’t risk having that happen so early in this trip to China.

事實(shí)證明，拍攝也并非易事。因?yàn)槭浅霾睿規(guī)Я艘慌_相對較小的無人機(jī)，我知道這是一種妥協(xié)：更小、更輕意味著更容易被卷進(jìn)風(fēng)暴中，導(dǎo)致畫面素材不能用。我們還必須在無人機(jī)的起飛和著陸上想些辦法，盡可能少碰到沙子。幾個(gè)月前，我就已經(jīng)在執(zhí)行一次任務(wù)時(shí)報(bào)廢了一臺無人機(jī)，因?yàn)轳R達(dá)里進(jìn)了沙子。我可不能在此次中國之行一開始就重蹈覆轍。

How did I end up here? We’d chosen this exact spot, from back in New York, months earlier. A group of editors on the graphics desk and I had sat down with a map of the Tengger, after hearing suggestions from Edward Wong, the Beijing bureau chief. We were looking for communities along the edge that might be affected by the desert’s changing footprint.

我怎么來了這里呢?幾個(gè)月前，我們就在紐約選定了這個(gè)地方。聽到北京分社社長黃安偉(Edward Wong)的建議后，圖片編輯部的一群編輯和我坐在一起，研究一幅騰格里地圖。我們想在沙漠邊緣尋找可能受到沙漠足跡不斷變化影響的社區(qū)。

Jeremy White, a graphics editor at The Times, analyzed satellite data to determine three communities where the desert seemed to be encroaching. Our challenge was to find a story there. Was desertification impacting people in these locations? If so, how?

時(shí)報(bào)的圖片編輯杰里米·懷特(Jeremy White)分析了衛(wèi)星數(shù)據(jù)，以確定三個(gè)似乎正在被騰格里沙漠侵蝕的社區(qū)。我們的挑戰(zhàn)是在那里找到一個(gè)故事。沙漠化是否正在影響這些地方的人?如果是，又是怎么影響的?

What Edward, the writer on the piece, and I found was eye-opening: stories of people having to change their livelihoods, of farmers trying to supplement lost incomes by catering more to tourists, of families resettling and sending their children to cities in hopes that they would succeed in a new industry.

撰寫文章的黃安偉和我發(fā)現(xiàn)的情況令人目瞪口呆：從人們不得不改變生計(jì)，到農(nóng)民試圖通過迎合游客來沖抵收入的減少，再到舉家搬遷并送孩子進(jìn)城，希望他們能在新的行業(yè)里成功，這些都是我們看到的故事。

One of the ways to capture the extent of the change — and the emotional heft of these stories — was to rise above the desert with a drone.

變化的幅度之大，是這些故事令人心情沉重的地方，要捕捉到這一點(diǎn)，其中一個(gè)辦法就是利用無人機(jī)俯瞰這片沙漠。

Our replacement car eventually arrives, and a new death metal song crackles out of the speakers. Unfortunately, we’ve missed the light for the evening; we’ll have to try again at sunrise — which means sleeping among the dunes.

我們換的車終于來了。喇叭里傳出的是另一首死亡金屬歌曲。遺憾的是，我們錯(cuò)過了傍晚的光線，將不得不在日出時(shí)再試，這意味著我們要在沙丘過夜。

That light is stunning the next morning as we bounce back across the sand, and I finally have time to film what I need for the story.

第二天早上，當(dāng)我們在沙漠中重新振作起來時(shí)，光線非常好。我終于有時(shí)間拍攝這個(gè)故事需要的素材了。

Then, by what seems like a miracle, we notice a 4G cellular signal, so I tether our drone to Facebook Live and share the flying experience with our readers (a task made ever more difficult by the fact that Facebook is blocked in China).

然后，像是奇跡似的，我們注意到了一個(gè)4G手機(jī)信號。于是，我把無人機(jī)和Facebook Live綁定，和我們的讀者分享這次飛行經(jīng)歷(Facebook在中國遭到屏蔽這個(gè)事實(shí)，讓這件事變得更加困難。)

Up next? We’re off to another part of China for the next story in the series — and for many more challenging modes of transportation.

接下來呢?我們出發(fā)前往中國另一個(gè)地方，尋找這個(gè)系列的下一個(gè)故事，并體驗(yàn)很多更具挑戰(zhàn)性的交通方式。