Ask where I’ve been, then take your pick of answers:
a) Grangeville, Idaho;
b) the middle of nowhere;
c) to a county bigger than New Jersey, but with just one stoplight;
d) back in time.
The correct response is: all of the above.
Not only have I just returned from the 99th annual Grangeville Border Days celebration, I can brag of a new champion in my family. Idaho’s oldest rodeo is part of Border Days, but our trophy winner is no bull rider or team roper.
At first glance, the gold-colored object in his trophy stand looks like a football. A closer look shows the oval is smaller at one end — it’s an egg.
My wonderful son-in-law, a Grangeville native, and his father each won trophies after their two-man team outlasted hundreds of pairs in a Main Street egg toss. It’s a signature event at Border Days, a three-day festival that wrapped up July 4th.
The egg toss is no simple game of catch. Multiple lines of competitors, some with decades of egg-lobbing experience, jam the street, which is decked with banners and American flags. An announcer calls out tricky moves — behind-the-back throws, under a leg, and up and over a wire holding street banners.
As eggs go splat on the hot street, lines thin out. The dwindling army of successful throwers moves up, eventually forming just two lines. Tricks get harder. Throws get faster. The street gets slimier. Finally, only the triumphant two remain. And on Day 2 of the festivities, one of them was my daughter’s husband, whose trophy is sure to become a family heirloom.
I hadn’t planned to write about my Grangeville getaway. In Snohomish County, we have our own distinct festivals, parades and Darrington’s Timber Bowl Rodeo.
I’m not sure what I expected out there in Idaho County, which stretches from Oregon to Montana and really does have one stoplight, right there on Grangeville’s Main Street. What I found in the close-knit town of about 3,500 people was a place that made me feel like a time traveler.
If I hadn’t seen ads for “Shrek” and “Twilight” sequels on the marquee of Grangeville’s old Blue Fox Theatre, I could have been talked into believing I’d landed in 1960.
My parents have roots in Eastern Washington’s wheat country. Last weekend reminded me of my childhood. Each Memorial Day, my grandmother would take us to big family picnics with relatives from Almira and Wilbur, tiny towns in Lincoln County east of Spokane.
Grangeville — where in the city park my son-in-law’s mother served strawberry shortcake with women from the United Methodist Church — had that same charming sense of small-town kinship I had a taste of long ago.
Before the egg toss, my 11-year-old came in third in a “Street Sports” sprint. Later, we were back on Main Street for the parade, complete with rodeo royalty, farm equipment and a loaded log truck. The day I arrived, I saw members of a past Grangeville High School class, in town for a reunion, riding down Main Street on a flatbed truck — some sipping beer as they waved to old friends.
It’s a place of grand scenery, on the edge of the Camas Prairie with the Salmon River nearby. With an elevation of about 3,500 feet, Grangeville is higher than Snoqualmie Pass. Sunsets are gorgeous. Even on July 4th, the morning air was crisp and cold. Its history is rich with the traditions and struggles of the Nez Perce Indians, early ranchers and gold miners.
In 2007, travel writer Tom Haines from The Boston Globe found his way to Grangeville. He wrote about Border Days in an article titled “High-country lowdown.” Haines called it a place of “vast and intimate terrain.”
It’s a lovely and apt description, but I can beat it.
Three words: egg-toss winner.
Julie Muhlstein: 425-339-3460, muhlstein@heraldnet.com.
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