The nightly fifteen minutes
The travelling edit is not editing; it is triage that makes the real edit possible. Fifteen minutes nightly: ingest, back up, and one fast pass flagging the frames with a pulse. No corrections, no colour, no rabbit holes — the evening's other hours belong to dinner and the dawn pile.
Trips that skip the nightly pass come home as three thousand strangers; trips that run it come home as a shortlist with a memory attached to every flag.
Backup without a laptop
The minimal rig that satisfies the never-one-copy rule: cards large enough to never format mid-trip, plus a phone or tablet pulling nightly selects, plus — for the truly cautious — a second card slot mirroring in camera. The full-paranoia rig adds a pocket SSD via the phone.
The rule that matters more than the hardware: the two copies sleep in two bags, and one of them stays with your body on travel days.
Delete nothing in the field
Field deletion feels like discipline and is actually risk: the screen lies about sharpness, the day's disappointment lies about worth, and the deleted frame's neighbour often needed it as evidence. Storage is cheaper than regret at every current price.
Decide everything at the table, weeks later, when the trip's emotions have resigned from the jury.
The claim check
Once a week on longer trips, run the workshop exercise in miniature: against your one-sentence claim for the trip, do the flagged files agree? The mid-trip course correction — more of the market, less of the monuments; the story is the boatyard, not the boats — is the single highest-value edit decision available, and it can only be made while you're still there.
This is the difference between a camera roll and a project, applied while it's cheap.
Coming home
The full edit waits a fortnight, deliberately: distance is a develop module. Then the two-pass cull (fast for failure, slow for feeling), the claim revisited, and a sequence built before any slider moves — order first, polish after.
And print the survivors, even small: the trip isn't over until it's on paper, and the paper is what the next trip learns from.