From Holbrook to the Heart of Idaho’s Fields

I got up early today—5 a.m.—and aimed to leave the RV by 6. I quietly sipped my coffee, had a bagel and cereal bar, and off I went, into the soft morning light. The sun was just beginning to rise behind the hills, casting a golden glow across the wide-open landscape. It was cool, but not cold, and the gentle uphill for the first 13 miles helped me warm up quickly.

The route led me through a National Grassland Area—true to its name, golden grasslands stretched on both sides of the road. Somewhere along the way, I passed a signboard about a campground once used during the gold rush. Today, only a few weathered shelters remain… and me, a solo runner soaking in the history and silence.

I felt stronger than yesterday. Maybe it was the good carb loading (delicious pasta with eggs and salad—mmh!), or maybe just the renewed energy that sometimes arrives without explanation. I ran freely and felt light-hearted, even joyful. These are the moments that remind me why I love running so much. There’s a peace to it, a sense of privilege and presence—running through landscapes I once could only imagine, reaching places I never knew I'd get to see with my own eyes, let alone on foot.

After cresting the initial climb, the road turned into a series of gentle rolling hills. I leaned into the flow and let the momentum carry me. Around mile 16, my crew caught up with me for a quick check-in—food, water, a short break—then I continued on for another 16 miles toward the small town of Rockland, my crew leapfrogging along the way.

After Rockland, we decided to stretch the day a bit longer and go for another 8 miles. Just one mile before our planned stop, we met Lance and his son Rex. In true Idahoan kindness, they offered to let us park our RV on their land overnight. We thanked them warmly but chose to continue to our original stopping point.

Now, we’re parked on a gravel road surrounded by wide-open beauty. To the right, wind turbines spin steadily. A field hosts raptor birds soaring above. And all around—front, back, left, and right—rolling hills and vast, open fields. Shortly after we arrived, Karl, the landowner, came by. After a quick chat, he gave us his blessing to stay. He was intrigued by my run and generous in his welcome.

We’ve already had a great dinner, I’ve showered, and now it’s time to finish up my work. I feel full—of gratitude, of energy, of awe. Idaho is stunning, and I can’t wait to discover more of it.

Thanks for being part of this journey. Day by day, mile by mile, it continues to unfold in ways I never expected.