Montana Is What America Was

Brash Rodeo at Blue Moon Arena

Columbia Falls, Montana

Thursday, July 30, 2026

If you've been following Shoot for Details for a while, you probably know this website has never really been about the cars.

The cars might be what catches my eye first, but it's always the people behind them that keep me coming back. I've been fortunate enough to photograph everything from concours events and race tracks to museums and private collections, and every one of those experiences has reminded me that the best stories usually aren't parked in the show field. They're standing beside them.

So don't worry, my automotive enthusiasts. Hang tight. I think you're going to enjoy this one.

My wife and I traveled to Montana to visit her brother, Nick Colavecchio, owner of Big Sky Sails on Flathead Lake. This wasn't my first trip to Montana. My first visit was with Hagerty to document the incredible Montana 500 https://www.shootfordetails.com/the-details-matter/inside-the-montana-500-driving-and-photographing-model-ts-across-montana, followed later by the F.A.T. Ice Race in Big Sky. Every time I leave, I find myself wondering when I'll be back. There's just something about this place that slows life down in the best possible way.

Later that afternoon, Nick mentioned that Brash Rodeo was coming to Blue Moon Arena in Columbia Falls that Thursday night.

My first thought wasn't about horses or bulls.

It was my camera bag.

The arena doesn't allow spectators to bring in camera lenses longer than three inches, and every lens I packed was well over that limit. If I wanted to photograph the rodeo the way I pictured it in my head, I'd need media credentials.

While my wife was talking with Nick, she mentioned that I was going to try to get media credentials. Nick has a great sense of humor, so when I overheard him laugh and say something like, "I'd like to see him try," I couldn't help but laugh too.

Challenge accepted.

Over the years, I've learned to approach opportunities a little differently. Instead of asking what someone can do for me, I ask what I can do for them.

So I reached out to Brash Rodeo and offered to tell the story of the evening. I also offered to donate a selection of photographs they could use after the event. Thankfully, they took a chance on an automotive photographer and welcomed me with media credentials.

Looking back, I don't think they just gave me access to a rodeo.

They trusted me to tell a small part of their story.

That's something I never take for granted.

My first stop after walking through the gate was the media booth, where I met Kristie. She handed me my media wristband and introduced me to SharDay Hillard of SharDay Hillard Photography, the official photographer for Brash Rodeo.

One thing I wanted to make sure of from the moment I arrived was that I wasn't stepping on anyone's toes. SharDay has earned that role, and I respected that. I wasn't there to compete with her. I was there to experience the evening through my own lens while respecting the work she does week after week.

Thankfully, I couldn't have asked for a better introduction.

SharDay immediately made me feel welcome. We talked throughout the evening, and she shared tips on what to watch for, where to photograph from, and even what I'd need to wear if I wanted access to certain areas of the arena. Walking into an event where you don't know anyone can be intimidating, but within a few minutes it felt like I was talking with an old friend.

I relied on the same rule that's served me well at race tracks over the years.

Don't become the story.

Use your noggin.

While my wife watched from the sold-out grandstands with Nick and his girlfriend, I wandered toward the warm-up area.

I've always believed cameras don't build trust.

Conversations do.

One thing I've learned over the years is that every situation is different. Sometimes you introduce yourself before taking a photograph. Other times you quietly make the photograph first and introduce yourself a few moments later. It's something you learn to feel out over time so you aren't interrupting the very moment you're trying to preserve.

More often than not, that conversation becomes just as memorable as the photograph.

One of the first people I met was Gail, whose daughter, Beth Bergstedt, was competing that evening. A few minutes later I noticed the two of them talking beside Beth's horse before the competition. It wasn't posed or planned, just a mom and daughter sharing a quiet moment together, so I asked if I could make a portrait.

It turned out to be one of my favorite photographs of the night.

Not because it was technically the best image I made.

Because it captured something that I'd continue seeing for the rest of the evening.

Family.

Gail and Beth beside Beth's horse before the competition.

As the evening went on, I started noticing the same thing everywhere I looked. Parents helping their kids, friends cheering each other on, volunteers keeping the night moving, and competitors encouraging one another.

I walked through the gate expecting to photograph a rodeo.

Without realizing it, I had started photographing something much bigger.

After spending some time around the warm-up area, SharDay mentioned one of her favorite places to photograph from.

Ground level.

She pointed me toward the bottom rail of the arena fence, and within a few minutes I knew exactly why she liked it so much.

I absolutely loved it.

Normally I'm photographing 1,200-horsepower machines, but tonight it was one horsepower. Different engine, same adrenaline.

Standing that close to the action reminded me of photographing rally racing. Every time a horse came by, dirt and dust filled the air, and I had to stay aware of everything happening around me. There were a few close calls, but those are usually the moments that make the best photographs.

One of the first events that really caught my attention was barrel racing.

Watching the women race into the arena was incredible. Horse and rider moved together as if they had done it a thousand times before, weaving around each barrel before sprinting toward the finish line. At the far end of the arena, they'd make one final hard turn, sending a cloud of Montana dirt in my direction as they slowed down.

It reminded me of watching a well-driven sports car flow through a series of corners. It looked effortless, but I knew there were years of practice behind every run.

Speed and Precision

Breakaway roping quickly became another favorite.

The rider bursts out of the gate after the calf, swings the rope, and makes the catch. The rope is attached with a string designed to snap the instant the calf is caught, stopping the clock. It all happens so quickly that if you blink, you'll probably miss it.

Timing is everything.

It reminded me of watching a perfectly executed pit stop where every movement has a purpose and every fraction of a second matters.

Team roping was just as impressive. One rider ropes the horns while the second ropes the hind legs, and watching the two work together reminded me of endurance racing. Every driver has a job to do, and success depends on trusting your teammate to do theirs.

As the evening went on, the atmosphere changed.

The timed events were exciting, but once the rough stock events began, the entire arena seemed to lean forward.

The riders each get one chance.

One ride.

That's it.

Watching them climb onto a bull knowing what was about to happen took a level of courage I'll never fully understand. Some rides lasted only a few seconds before the rider hit the dirt, got back to their feet, tipped their hat, and walked out to the applause of the crowd.

I couldn't help but think there's probably a reason there are so many chiropractors around here.

Between events, I climbed onto one of the arena gates where I met Travis and Alex. Like so many people I encountered that evening, family was at the center of everything they did. This wasn't simply a sporting event. It was a way of life shared across generations.

One moment that really stuck with me was watching Alex ride into the arena with his youngest daughter. She rode her own horse while Alex rode beside her, holding the lead rope from his own horse as they made their way around the course together.

It wasn't about winning.

It wasn't about who had the fastest time.

It was simply a dad making memories with his daughter.

Sometimes the best moments aren't the loudest ones.

They're the ones that remind you why people keep coming back year after year.

Between events I found myself climbing back onto the arena gate where I'd continue talking with Travis and Alex. One conversation led to another, and before long it felt less like I was covering an event and more like I was spending an evening with people I'd known for years.

That's one of my favorite parts about photography.

The camera might introduce you, but it's the conversations you'll remember years later.

After I got home and finished editing a few photographs, I sent Travis one of his family. A little while later, he replied and told me it was one of his favorite photographs of all time.

I smiled.

Photography has never been about likes, followers, or becoming famous.

For me, it's always been about making an honest living while giving someone a photograph they'll be proud to look at years from now. Knowing that one image meant that much to him was every bit as rewarding as making it.

As the final events came to an end and I packed my gear, I looked down at my cameras. They were covered in Montana dirt and dust, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Every event leaves something behind. Sometimes it's rain. Sometimes it's brake dust from a race track. This time it was Montana.

On the drive back, I kept thinking about something Nick had shown us the first day we arrived.

A silver belt buckle.

At the time, I thought it was just a cool piece of Montana history.

Now it meant something completely different.

The belt buckle Nick showed me on our first day in Montana. I didn't photograph it then because I had no idea those five simple words would become the theme of the trip. This image is an recreation based on that buckle.

Five simple words were stamped across the front.

Montana is what America was.

After spending an evening with the competitors, volunteers, families, photographers, announcers, and everyone who made Brash Rodeo possible, I understood why those words stayed with me.

I didn't leave Montana talking about the fastest barrel racer or the longest bull ride.

I left talking about Gail and Beth.

About SharDay taking the time to help a photographer she had never met.

About Alex riding beside his daughter.

About Travis and the smile a family photograph brought him.

Those are the moments I'll remember long after the dust has been cleaned from my cameras.

To everyone at Brash Rodeo, thank you for welcoming an automotive photographer into your world and trusting me to tell a small part of your story. It was an experience I'll never forget, and I hope our paths cross again.

The Story Continues

I've shared some of my favorite moments from the evening here, but there are many more waiting in the gallery below.

Every image is available as a free digital download with my Shoot for Details watermark because I believe memories should be shared. If you'd like something to hang on the wall of your home, office, or barn, professional prints are also available.

If Brash Rodeo decides they'd like to continue this partnership, I'll also be donating a portion of future print sales back to help support what they're building.

Until then, enjoy the photographs, relive the evening, and if you see yourself, a family member, or a friend, I hope one of these images brings back a great memory.