DAY 41 - Ashton, ID - 773 miles from home

Writing this on the morning of Day 42, August 14th. We're staying two nights in Ashton, being spoiled rotten by the incomparable hospitality of the Ashton United Methodist Church. Rev. Dale Clem and his wife Kelly brought us into their home, plied us with iced tea and root beer, hot showers and clean laundry - and then the community blessed us with one of the best meals we've had on the road. (Kelly's zucchini lasagna was astonishing... My only complaint is that it was finite. When I went back for thirds, it was all gone.)

And the church itself: room after room, sparkling and cozy, a full kitchen, an expansive fellowship hall, a beautiful sanctuary, a darling nursery, etc. Yet like all the traditional churches we've seen on the way, the Ashton UMC is struggling: hit hard by Covid, within a town that has lost jobs (timber, railway, mining, agriculture), and in a part of Idaho that is more than 90% LDS. There doesn't seem to be a next generation of Methodists in Ashton to fill the pews. Yet the congregation is determined to keep going - working with the denomination to keep the Church open, and bringing interim pastors like Rev. Dale here to help anchor their ministry. Dale and Kelly leave, however, in just a few weeks - heading back to their home and grandchildren (and retirement!) in Huntsville, Alabama... although the community is working hard to tempt them back soon.

We're feeling such love in Ashton. The deep-hearted community at the church. The landscape undulating into golden hills, the blue-gray spikes of the Tetons on the horizon, Fall River percolating clean and sharp over a rocky bed, a ten-point buck leaping across the road ahead of me... On yesterday's walk, from Chester to the Ashton-Flagg Ranch Road, the landscape changed and swelled underfoot. My heart opened. And at the same time, here at the edge of the Tetons, one finds the emblems of what divides us... A huge sign in the window of a gorgeous ranch home: "Trump Won. I know it. You know it".... Similarly-themed lawn ornaments....

I think I'm learning that the deep love, the open heart I feel and I find every day in this vast countryside - on its underside is the grief, the loss, the struggle. What divides us is also what unites us. The stories we shared at dinner, last night, for instance. The family members who have been lost. The illnesses that have upended lives. The triumphs followed by setbacks, followed by resilience. The changing face of hometown: closed movie theaters and stores. Kids and grandkids and cousins drifting apart. But also the humor and delight of change; the vestiges that remain, like legends, of the old mining and railroad days. Like: the brothels now converted into sedate family homes. "That family that lives across the street! That's why there's that staircase on the outside of their house! So you could leave without being seen!" - The love affairs, the marriages, the lifelong friendships.

Shirley, the 95-year-old mother of Rhett, born in Pendleton, Oregon, raised in Corvallis (she's a Beaver, but forgives me for being a Duck). Her future husband, Don, a farm boy from Idaho, was an army buddy with her shop foreman Blackie in Corvallis. Tail gunners, belly gunners back in WWII. And now in Corvallis, the belly gunner gave the tail gunner a job - and by spring he gave Shirley a diamond ring. She took the train out to meet Don and his mother in Idaho Falls. It was nothing but sage brush, Shirley told me. She'd come from the lush green forests of the Pacific Northwest. On that long drive out to their home from the train, she thought to herself: I can't stay here! How much do I really love this man?

"But then I caught sight of the Tetons," Shirley told me, with a big broad smile. "I thought: I can do this!"

The undulating hills; the Tetons up ahead.

In view of the mountains.

Libby waiting for me on the Ashton-Flagg Ranch Road.

Happy camper: Kate setting up for the night in the nursery at the Ashton United Methodist Church.

Kelly Clem in the foreground. Left to right behind her: Jack, Bob, Leon and Shirley.

Lon - teller of the best stories. His beloved older brother Bill invented McDonald's hash browns and helped pioneer their proprietary french fry. (This is seed potato country. Altitude is everything for Idaho potatoes. Ashton is at 5259'.)

Jack - asking the best questions, keeping us pilgrims talking and laughing. (Bob and Leon in the background.)

Cheryl, one of the "kitchen witches" who brings the magic all together at the United Methodist Church.

Leon.

Cathy - serendipitously Kate and Bob met her at the Forest Service earlier in the morning. She's worked the office at the Ashton Ranger station - fielding questions, solving problems, serving the public - for several decades. (Thank you for all the bear prep and advice, Cathy!)

Rhett and Carolyn.

Rev. Dale Clem and Shirley.

Shirley, born in Pendleton, Oregon.