Amid the juniper and sagebrush of Oregon’s high desert can be found part of what Francisco “Frank” Yraguen calls “the story of America.” It is his grandfather’s story, one played out by many Basques who immigrated to the United States to live and work as sheepherders.
Jose “White Horse Joe” Yraguen was part of a wave of Basques who settled in the Northwest in the late 1800s and early 1900s. He brought over his wife, Claudia, from Spain; moved into a sandstone-and-sod one-room house dubbed Antelope Ranch; and raised nine children.
When Frank Yraguen, 67, a semi-retired Oregon state judge, researched his family history some years ago, he heard many tales about the struggles his grandparents’ generation faced. These newcomers to the United States worked hard to rise above their hardscrabble existence and ensure a better life for their children and grandchildren.
Basques hail from the Pyrenees Mountains that straddle the border of Spain and France. A culturally distinct people with their own language—Euskara, unrelated to Spanish or French—Spanish Basques arrived in the United States during the California Gold Rush. They soon spread throughout the West, where many found work sheepherding. Their numbers grew as siblings and cousins also crossed the ocean.
The settlers maintained the traditions of their homeland—playing a card game called mus; dancing the jota, a lively type of dance; feasting on chorizos made with lamb or pork—and their community continues to thrive. “We want future generations to be aware of their history, their culture, so they can know where they came from,” says Yraguen, a community leader who recently started studying Euskara. “We’re still here.”
Driving Tour
Begin a driving tour of the Northwest’s Basque country at the “Basque Block” in downtown Boise, Idaho. The street is home to the Basque Museum and Cultural Center, a trove of artifacts, photos, and documents about the region’s rich history. Just down the block are a Basque community center, a market, and a few restaurants.
Illustration: Lisa Adams |
Bar Gernika serves up a mean chorizo sandwich. “There’s a real strong Basque feel to this place,” says Dan Anostegui, proprietor of Bar Gernika, which he modeled after tapas bars he visited in Spain’s Basque country. Leku Ona—“good place” in Euskara—is a three-floor restaurant featuring traditional cuisine and serving family-style dinners and specialties such as arkume hanka (baked lamb shank) and meat, seafood, or vegetarian paella.
On the last weekend in July, Boise hosts the San Inazio Festival, honoring the Basque patron saint—a rollicking celebration of all things Basque, including traditional games, dance, music, and food.
After Boise’s big-city highlights, get ready to put some miles on your vehicle’s odometer as you venture into the wide open spaces of Basque country.
History Preserved
Head west to Ontario, Oregon, where the Four Rivers Cultural Center and Museum presents a display on Basque culture. Passing through town, you can see the former Echanis boarding house on North Oregon Street, where sheepherders used to stay when visiting town on business and which served as a community gathering spot for dancing and celebrating holidays such as Three Kings Day.
Next, travel south toward Jordan Valley, an early Basque outpost where the town’s pride and joy is a handball court, or frontón, built nearly a century ago for the traditional Basque sport of pelota. The community recently restored the sandstone court, which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Get a bite to eat across the street at the Old Basque Inn.
Then head west to the starkly stunning Steens Mountain area, where many sheepherders once tended their flocks. On a scenic drive through the high desert, you’ll likely glimpse a bighorn sheep or pronghorn antelope. Hike up through the aspen and alder, and you may see an authentic arborglyph—a tree carving made long ago by a lonely sheepherder to communicate with other sheepherders.
Nearby, the town of Burns holds its own Basque Festival the last weekend of June—a small-town counterpart to Boise’s big event where you’ll still be able to eat chorizo, dance the jota, and show your pride by sporting a shirt that says it all: “I’m Basque.”
