Welcome to Lore Legends, a subset of lore episodes that explore the strange tales we whisper in the dark,

even if they can't always be proven by the history books.

So if you're ready, let's begin. The sandstorm came out of nowhere.

Now while the storm was unexpected, it wasn't necessarily unusual.

The Sonoran Desert is one of the most treacherous environments in North America,

with temperatures that can get up to 120 degrees Fahrenheit.

Sandstorms and death are common.

Its primary trail, El Camino del Diablo, or the Devil's Highway, is littered with white crosses

to mark the graves of the thousands of travelers who have died along its dusty path.

One day in the past, two ranch hands were traveling along El Camino del Diablo,

when a sandstorm descended upon them.

Acting fast, they tied up their horses and took shelter behind some rocks.

Then, armed with nothing more than the meager supplies they had packed for their day trip, they hunkered down to wait it out.

The sandstorm lasted two days.

The men were pounded with blistering hot sand and blasted by winds going over 25 miles an hour.

All too soon, they drank through the last of their water.

Then their horses died, and still they were trapped, unable to see more than a couple of inches in front of their faces.

Eventually one of the ranch hands vomited and then passed out cold.

Soon after the man lost consciousness the storm grew unnaturally quiet.

The second man lifted his head to squint through the sand and he was met with a haunting sight.

Riding out of the storm was a man dressed in white.

Eleven more riders followed him, all on equally white horses and wearing pristine white clothing.

...