Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch
If you were to look up Whitewater, Montana, on a map, you would find a tiny town on the highline in northeastern Montana with a population of 64 people. It’s surrounded by endless acres of land used for agriculture and livestock. When I tell people my extended family is from Montana, they usually think I mean the mountains and rivers of western Montana, but Whitewater is an entirely different world altogether. It’s not a tourist destination—but it is so special to me.
My grandparents were both first-generation Americans, with my late grandpa’s parents having emigrated from Norway and my grandma’s parents from Scotland. How anyone survived living out there as homesteaders is honestly beyond me. An average winter there sees temperatures of 20 degrees below zero, and the wind can make it feel 30 degrees colder than that. It’s not a place for the faint of heart! My grandma just turned 96 and continues to be one of the most impressive people I know; she still cooks, cleans, gardens, cares for her great grandchildren when needed, and is sharp as a tack.
Brent’s photography schedule almost always rules out summer travel, and Covid kept us from being able to visit two years in a row. One thing led to another, and we hadn’t visited the ranch in six years! So this past summer, when the entire month of July was wide open, it felt like the seas had miraculously parted and we could finally make a road trip happen.
