My Milky Way Planning Process
I used to waste a lot of nights chasing the Milky Way. I’d check the moon phase, pick a date that looked good, drive an hour or two to a dark location, and then watch clouds roll in. Or I’d arrive to find the galactic core wasn’t where I expected it to be. Or the moon would rise at 1 AM and wash out the sky before I got the shots I wanted. My Milky Way planning was basically guesswork.
After too many failed trips, I built a system for Milky Way planning. Now I rarely get skunked. The difference comes down to planning at the right times with the right tools.
Here’s the process I follow for every astrophotography session.
Milky Way Planning Starts Months Out: Picking the Right Dates
Most astrophotographers plan a week or two ahead. I plan months ahead. This gives me flexibility to work around the weather, travel schedules, and life.
The first thing I check is when the Milky Way’s galactic core will be visible at my location. The core is the bright, detailed center section that makes for compelling photographs. It’s only visible during certain months, and the timing shifts depending on where you live.
I also need to know the moon phase. A bright moon washes out the Milky Way. I’m looking for nights when the moon sets before the core rises, or rises after I’m done shooting.
Checking this information one date at a time gets tedious fast. I built MilkyWayPlanner.com to solve this Milky Way planning problem. It shows me an entire season of shooting windows on one screen. I can scan three or four months and immediately spot the best opportunities based on moon phase and core visibility. What used to take an hour of clicking through dates now takes five minutes.
Once I identify promising dates, I block them on my calendar. Having multiple options means I’m not locked into one night that might have bad weather.
Weeks Out: Finding Dark Skies
With dates selected, I turn to location. Light pollution ruins astrophotography faster than almost anything else. Even a moderately dark sky produces dramatically better results than shooting from a suburban backyard.
I use Dark Site Finder and Light Pollution Map to identify dark locations within driving distance. Both sites overlay satellite data showing light pollution levels. The color coding makes it easy to see how far I need to drive to escape the urban glow.
For trips to new areas, I’ll also check the DarkSky International database of certified dark sky parks and reserves. These locations actively manage lighting to protect dark skies. They’re often worth the extra drive.
At this stage, I’m also thinking about the foreground. A dark sky alone doesn’t make an interesting photograph. I want something in the frame: a mountain, a barn, a twisted tree, interesting rock formations. Google Earth and satellite imagery help me scout potential compositions before I commit to a location.
One to Two Weeks Out: Milky Way Planning Gets Specific
This is when planning gets specific. I know my dates and general location. Now I need to figure out exactly where to stand and when to shoot.
I use PhotoPills for this. The app’s augmented reality mode lets me point my phone at a scene and see where the Milky Way will appear at any time on any date. I can visit a location during the day, stand in my planned shooting spot, and confirm that the galactic core will rise over that ridgeline or align with that old barn.
Stellarium serves a similar purpose on desktop. I can input my location, set the date and time, and see exactly what the sky will look like. The framing feature lets me plug in my camera and lens specs to preview my actual field of view. This helps me decide what focal length I need.
For deep-sky targets, I use Telescopius to see how objects will appear with my specific equipment. The mosaic planning tool is useful when I want to capture something larger than my sensor’s field of view.
The goal at this stage is to eliminate surprises. I want to arrive knowing exactly where to set up, what time the core will be in position, and what focal length to use. The less I fumble in the dark, the more time I spend shooting.
Three to Five Days Out: Watching the Weather
Weather determines whether any of this planning matters. Clear skies are non-negotiable.
I start monitoring Astrospheric about five days before my planned shoot. The app provides astronomy-specific forecasts showing cloud cover at different altitudes, atmospheric transparency, and seeing conditions. The free version covers the basics. I also check Clear Outside , which uses a different forecasting model and sometimes catches things Astrospheric misses.
This far out, forecasts aren’t reliable enough to make final decisions. But they give me a sense of whether the night looks promising or if I should start thinking about backup dates.
I check both apps once or twice a day, watching for trends. Is the forecast improving or getting worse? If I have multiple dates blocked, the weather forecast often determines which one I commit to.
Day Before and Day Of: Go or No-Go
The day before my planned session, I’m checking weather obsessively. I want to see agreement between Astrospheric and Clear Outside. If both show clear skies, I feel confident. If they disagree, I dig deeper into the models.
On the day of the shoot, I add satellite imagery to my checks. I look at current cloud positions and animated loops showing which direction weather is moving. Actual observations tell you more than any forecast.
I make my final go/no-go decision a few hours before I need to leave. Driving two hours to sit under clouds isn’t my idea of a good time. If conditions look marginal, I’ll sometimes drive partway and reassess. But usually, if the forecast is questionable, I stay home and wait for a better night.
On Location: Final Adjustments
Even with careful planning, things change once I’m in the field. The composition I visualized might not work from ground level. Terrain features I couldn’t see on satellite imagery might block my shot. The foreground element might be smaller or larger than expected.
I use PhotoPills one more time to confirm my composition and timing. Small adjustments are normal. The planning gets me 90% of the way there. The last 10% happens on location.
If conditions change during the night, weather apps help me decide whether to wait out passing clouds or pack up. Having cell coverage isn’t guaranteed in remote dark sky locations, so I usually check conditions one final time before I lose signal.
The Payoff for Good Milky Way Planning
This process sounds involved, but it becomes second nature. The planning itself takes maybe 30 minutes spread across several weeks. What I get in return is confidence. I show up knowing the conditions are right, the composition will work, and I won’t waste a night.
The failed trips taught me that astrophotography rewards preparation. The best images come from nights where everything aligns: dark skies, clear weather, good timing, and an interesting foreground. Planning increases the odds of that alignment.
I still get skunked occasionally. Weather forecasts fail. Unexpected clouds appear. That’s part of the game. But the ratio of successful nights to wasted drives has improved dramatically since I started planning this way.
If you’re serious about astrophotography, build a system that works for you. Use tools that answer your specific questions at each stage of planning. And give yourself enough lead time to have options when conditions don’t cooperate.
P.S. — Check out my photography for more shots like this.