Day 28: Rain Clouds and Father's Day Hot Dogs
52.5 km ran today; ~1374.5 km total
Sunday, June 21st, 2026
Day 28 at a Glance:
Distance Ran Today: 52.5 km
Total Distance Ran: ~1,374.5 km
Projected Total Distance to Run: ~1,570 km
Progress: ~87.5% complete
Remaining Distance: ~195.5 km
Darryn's weather report wasn't wrong.
We woke up on Dylan's lawn at Palliser Regional Park to a windy, rainy morning. The tent was noticeably wetter than most mornings, and our quilt had picked up a fair bit of moisture too. Fortunately, nothing a little prairie wind and sunshine couldn't fix later in the day.
After a quick coffee, some snacks, and a visit with Dylan at his family cabin, Chad and I headed off to retrieve Gnome and Froggie before getting the day started.
After packing up the went gear, we couldn’t say ‘no’ to a quick coffee and visit in the Watt’s cozy family cabin.
Not long after picking up Gnome and Froggie, we saw Jack cruising down the remote gravel road in his black Mazda; he was ready for another big day of running with me.
Jack made the trek out here again today. After running 40+ Km with me yesterday.
Yesterday Jack ran more than 40 kilometres with me. When he heard the forecast was calling for rain and wind all day, he immediately said he'd come back out again because, in his words, "running all day in the rain by yourself would suck."
Sure enough, by 9 a.m. he was there and ready to go.
Over the course of the day he ended up running 52.5 kilometres with me. That kind of support is hard to put into words. He's a good dude.
The morning roads wound through rolling prairie under dark skies that never seemed quite sure what they wanted to do. Sometimes it rained. Sometimes it looked like it was about to rain. Sometimes it threatened dramatically and then changed its mind.
Along the way, a local man from Calderbank stopped to chat with us. He shared stories about the area and told us that not much remains of the old village anymore.
One of the best parts of this run continues to be the conversations with local people. This kind man shared a bit about the history of the village of Calderbank. He said not much other than his home remains in the village
A little farther down the road we found some of those reminders of the communities that once existed here.
Prairie history standing quietly beside the road.
We spent a few moments pondering whether S.D. stood for School Division. Would it have been Tuxedo School Division?
By late morning the skies finally made good on some of their threats.
A heavy shower rolled through and dumped rain on us just before lunch.
Fortunately, lunch was waiting.
After roughly 25 kilometres, Jack and I stopped where Brad, Sandy, and Chad had set up an aid station and were serving: noodles, potatoes, perogies, hot dogs, and hot chocolate.
After a rainy morning on gravel roads - it tasted pretty close to perfect.
Father's Day lunch stop on a gravel road somewhere south of Calderbank
The weather called for hot chocolate. The hot chocolate delivered. I passed on the hot dog, but the noodles and potatoes sure hit the spot.
While the storm clouds continued to gather nearby, Brad finally got to enjoy a Father's Day hot dog.
A Father's Day feast while watching prairie storm clouds build in every direction.
After lunch, my father got back to work on Father’s day and updated his sign with the total kilometres traveled so far.
Updating the mileage board to reflect another day completed on the journey south.
The rain eased and the afternoon slowly transformed into one of those surprisingly beautiful running days.
The roads were muddy in places, the clouds remained dramatic, and the temperatures stayed comfortable.
Not long before one particularly muddy climb, Kalim sprinted down the road to deliver my phone after he and Chad had managed to charge it for a few minutes. It was one of those small moments that perfectly sums up crew life: someone is always solving a problem before I even know I have one.
The only companions who seem to be as consistent as my crew these days might be the ticks.
I love some running partners more than others
As the kilometres accumulated, Jack and I continued south through the rolling prairie.
The roads were muddy, the skies were dramatic, and it ended up being another great day to run.
One foot in front of the other. Still heading south.
By the end of the day we had covered 52.5 kilometres.
Gnome and Froggie found another home along the route, and Jack completed another massive day of pacing - he ran over 90 km with me in two days.
52.5 kilometres complete. Another day closer to the Montana border.
When we got back to camp, Chad insisted on documenting one small blister that has appeared during the journey.
Chad felt this deserved a photo. After crawling into our tents after a day of running, we ultra runners sometimes like to reflect on whether we should pop our blisters or let ‘em ride. I decided to let this one ride for another day.
The day finished in Morse, where we camped at the local campground.
It was a really nice campsite.
The trains, however, were extremely committed to making sure nobody forgot they existed.
I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say at least one or two very loud trains rolled past my tent throughout the evening and overnight. They were close enough that I briefly wondered if one might be taking a shortcut through camp.
Let's just say it may not have been my deepest sleep of the trip.
With 1,374.5 kilometres completed, less than 200 kilometres now remain between me and the Saskatchewan–Montana border. After 28 days on the road, the finish line is beginning to feel real.
But I still know I have a long ways to go and I prefer to take this journey one day at a time.
Every step is good.
Why I'm Running
I'm running approximately 1,570 kilometres from the most northern Saskatchewan community with road access to the Saskatchewan–Montana border in memory of my mom, Louise, who died from leukemia at just 38 years old.
This month I turned 38 myself.
This journey is about remembering her, honouring the people and families affected by blood cancers, and raising funds for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of Canada. It's also about the power of small, consistent actions.
Every step may seem insignificant on its own, but together they can carry us farther than we ever imagined.
