DAY 19 - Nyssa, OR & Payette, ID - 384 Miles from home

[Written on Day 20 - July 23]

Bob and I left Vale at dawn, and I met him in Libby about 7 miles into his morning hike - so that he and I could cross Keeney Pass together. We were on the deliriously beautiful desert back road to Nyssa - Lytle Road - and the morning felt perfect. And the poignancy of all those travelers, some 250,000 of them, their wagon wheels catching the grooves of the Oregon Trail, mile after mile, wending toward their future. I'm aware that in many ways Liberty Walks is trying to catch its own groove.

Coming down off the pass, into the valley of green crops of corn, sugar beet and onion, I don't think I've ever felt more free and alive. Although the high desert's beauty has been intoxicating, there was something about coming out of the desert that felt so archetypally joyous that I found myself laughing out loud. From dry blown butte to verdant valley. Later we spent a sweet hour in Nyssa - chatting with Denine at Thunderegg Cafe. When I mentioned to her the contrast that had struck me between desert and farm she said, without missing a beat: oh, that's irrigation. It's still just 7 inches of rainfall a year here, don't forget.

Wherever we go on the road these days, we're hearing about water and land and fire.

I didn't buy any thundereggs in Nyssa (although it's Thunderegg capital of the world - and was our last town in Oregon, the Thunderegg State) - but I was tempted to buy something at Bob's Steak and Spirits. Instead, we just drove to our day's lodging, 17 miles away at St. John's United Church of Christ in Payette, Idaho.

Bob and I arrived at St. John's - fortuitously - at the tail end of their Tuesday afternoon Quilting club. We were greeted by a room full of strong, creative and soulful women: Kay, Cindy, Susan, Julie, Megan, Linda.... What is it about warrior seamstresses? The St. John's parish hall is lined with shelves of fabric, tables laid out with patterns and works in progress, and a giant vintage Nolting quilting machine that takes up the expanse of one whole wall. Quilting was also strong at the McKenzie Valley Presbyterian Church in Walterville, our first stop - where congregant Dan has been quilting - and teaching others to sew and quilt - ever since he rehabilitated the use of his hand after a stroke. And/but - McKenzie Valley has nothing on the Snake River Plain....

Kay Stauff, our host, is the Church Moderator at St. John's - 80 years old (astonishingly) and baker of the best cherry pie I've ever eaten (oh, her lemon meringue was pretty darn good too). And there was casserole and tomatoes from Cindy's garden I think, and salad, and incredibly good noodle casserole, and fresh bread with butter, and cinammon iced tea and lemon water and coffee... and Bob and I ate seconds and thirds (okay, that was just me) ... and we took leftovers with us when we hit the road.

Mostly it was just a delight to talk family, and God, and health and survivorship and divorce and rebirth and fabric and food. Cindy showed me her quilting machine - bequeathed from a friend who used to keep the enormous contraption in her living room, squeezing out everything else: "she just had one little chair in the corner."

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Kay's husband Brent, who shared maps and Air Force stories with Bob. Brent and Kay have been married 50 years. Their daughter Megan is now back in Payette, and she too is now a quilter. She and her three kids joined us in the parish hall yesterday.

Traditional churches like St. John's are declining all across the nation. Membership is dwindling. Young families are going elsewhere, or nowhere at all. Kay says that the congregation at St. John's is down to just 10 or so folks. (We met most of the congregation yesterday!)

But even so: family is strong. And quilting is even stronger: an art that turns patches and scraps into whole cloth.

There's a Betsy Ross metaphor in all of this. Despite the shreds and tatters, there's nonetheless an art that can be mastered of gently and deftly working the pieces together. And the crazier and more motley the medley, the better.

Finding our groove on the Keeney Pass.

Bob & Denine at Thunderegg Cafe in Nyssa, OR.

Bob's trail name is Conan. The story is a good one. I'll tell it sometime.

Our host at St. John's, Kay Stauff (right) and her daughter Megan.

Susan and Megan at St. John's. (Susan's quilts are gorgeous.)

Cindy - quilter extraordinaire. (When Cindy told an elderly friend about us, the friend gave Cindy $20 to donate to us - because of her own experiences with Peace Pilgrim back in the 1970s).

Cindy sharing one of her quilts. Note the freehand quilting - all made possible with the behemoth Nolting machine.

St. John: patron saint of fabric squares.

Brent Stauff.

Kay's pies.