A Little Big Sky Adventure

Montana was so green!

Last week, I packed the Pathfinder and drove to Montana.

No camper. No dogs. No big preparation. Just me, a list I built on the Wanderlist, and a reason that felt bigger than any gear setup I've ever put together.

Anaconda, Montana. A wedding. A family I love.

Momo was part of my life for 26 years. She died on October 6 — one day after Bruno. I've written about that season, and I'll keep writing about it. But this trip wasn't about grief. It was about showing up for the people she left behind, including a granddaughter who said yes to her future in front of everyone who loves her.

I am so lucky that I got to be there too to see it all.

The Drive Up

Evidence of peak road trip decision-making. No regrets.

I stopped in Sheridan to wash the car. The bugs and dust from my road had finally won, and I refused to arrive in Montana looking like I'd driven through a field. Which, technically, when you factor in the crap on my county road, I had driven through quite the pile of crap.

They aren't lying when they say big sky country. I hit the mountains right before golden hour and just about pulled over to stare. There's a certain kind of beauty that stops your internal monologue mid-sentence, and Montana does that.

Hit this right before golden hour. Montana wasn't lying about the sky.

I will also tell you that I left the AeroPress at home. This was a mistake. A real one. The coffee situation on this trip was, at best, subpar. I will not be doing that again.

I did, however, stop at Hat Six in Casper on the way and pick up the most aggressively cheerful rice krispy treat I have ever seen. It balanced things out.

There's a certain kind of beauty that stops your internal monologue mid-sentence, and Montana does that.

Photographing Someone Else's Joy

Aspen and Kyle. Smitty's Barn, Anaconda. June 13, 2026.

Photographing a wedding is different from any other kind of shooting I do.

It isn't my story. My job is to disappear into the edges and wait for the moments that tell the truth — the ones that happen in between the posed shots, in the quiet glances and the hands reaching for each other. And man I was rusty! I don't do many weddings these days!

Smitty's Barn had this waiting in the field. I could have photographed it for an hour.

There were so many moments on that day when I just knew Momo was there.

I can't explain it better than that. She was in the light, in the laughter, in the way this family held each other. I kept my camera up and let the day move through me.

Momo would have loved every second of it.

What I Packed (Dawn-Free but Not Unprepared)

A year of camping teaches you what you actually need. Turns out, most of it fits in the back of a Pathfinder.

The iceco — cold drinks and real food, no compromises. I refuse to spend two days on the road eating gas station sandwiches. The rice krispy treat was a treat, not a meal.

The Jackery — charged before I left, used the whole way there and back. Camera batteries, laptop, and anything that needed power.

The AeroPress XL — did not bring it. Learn from my mistakes.

I built the packing list on the Wanderlist before I left. It's the same tool I use for the Dawn, just filtered differently for a car trip. Checking things off before you leave is its own kind of peace of mind — and apparently a reminder to pack the things that actually matter.

The Drive Home

By the time I pointed the Pathfinder south, I had hit my road trip junk food maximum. I wasn't craving snacks or stopping for anything. I wanted a salad. A real one. With vegetables.

The drive home was quieter in the way that return drives always are — you've already seen the landscape, you know what's coming, and your mind starts to wander ahead to what's waiting. I thought about Momo. I thought about her granddaughter, starting her life. I thought about what it means to show up for people, even when the road is long and the coffee is bad.

When I finally got home, I felt like I was still moving. What a crazy feeling!

She forgave me. Eventually.

The dogs were waiting. Luna had opinions about my absence that she expressed clearly and at length. The Dawn was in the driveway. And I was glad I went.

Sometimes the adventure doesn't look like what you planned. No camper, no boondocking pullout, no wide-open campsite with a view.

Just a drive north and a reason worth showing up for.

That's enough. That's actually everything.

Build your own road trip list

The Wanderlist is free and it's what I actually use. Whether you're loading the camper or just the car — and whether or not you remember the AeroPress — it helps you leave the driveway knowing you got it right.

thesolwanderlist.com

Keep Moving.

Rachel