The Oregon Trail 

 

(Based on http://www.virtualapple.org/oregontraildisk.html)

 

A story by Thema Mary Caroline

 

 

 

I'm not sure how I got there, the 1800's.  I wasn't even born until 1986, but some how it happened.  Some kind of fluke of nature that sent my back in time the year I turned 21.

 

But I tried to fit in.  I tried really hard.  I hate the city life, in Independance, Mossuri.  I want to go out West, get a little farm of my own, away from all this.  Away from the strange people, strange customs, strange everything.  I could live my own life, however I wanted without worrying about fitting into the era.

 

The Oregon Trail.  A journey of over two thousand miles, across plains, mountains, rivers.  It wasn't like there were cars or anything.  Not yet.  I'd have to join with others going the same way.

 

I claimed to be a farmer from Illinois.  I told people that wass why I talked a little different.  I suppose I could have claimed to be something grander.  A carpenter, or a banker.  But I didn't have any skills in those professions and was afraid of being found out.

 

Finally, I found a small group to travel with.  Two brothers, Zeke and John, and their respective wives Anna and Sarah.

 

The year was 1848.  The brothers and I attended a conference held in Independance called "Folks With the California Oregon Fever."  We're told not to leave to early or too late.  But they don't really answer the question of when to leave.

 

It takes a long time, and a lot of discussion, but we finally agree on May to start our long journey.

 

But before leaving, we had to buy equipment and supplies.  We pooled our money, coming up with a total of four hundred dollars.  It seemed like we were rich, especially for the time period.  Except that we needed a lot of supplies for the trip.

 

For some reason, they trusted me to do the shopping.  I went to Matt's General Store, which seemed to have the slogan "Everything you need!" except that I did't think they had invented slogans yet.

 

"Hello, I'm Matt," the tall, blond shopkeeper said.  He was smoking a pipe.  "So you're going to Oregon!"

 

"Yeah.  How did you know?"

 

He ignored my question.  "I can fix you up with what you need:  a team of oxen to pull your wagon; clothing for both summer and winter; plenty of food for your trip; ammuntion for your rifle; spare parts for your wagon."

 

I don't say anything, but I can't help but feel that what he says is kind of obvious since they have "everything I need!"  Besides, he sounds like he says that one hundred times a day.

 

Starting with the animals, Matt advised me that there are two oxen to a yoke.  Duh, I thought, but just nodded politely.

 

"I recommend three yoke of oxen.  I charge 40 dollars a yoke."

 

"I'll take two," I reply, thinking he's just trying to make money.

 

Next we looked at the food.  Coffee, sugar, flour, bacon.  It's only 20 cents a pound, and Matt said to get 200 pounds per person.  Okay, sounded good to me.  I took one thousand pounds.

 

Clothing is next, I got 10 outfits, two for each person.  Not very many by my own standards, but all that was really necissary in that time.

 

I bought several boxes of ammunition, and then one of each spare wagon part that he sold.  But the total came to be 20 dollars more than I had.

 

Deciding what wasn't necessary was hard.  I worried that we wouldn't need wagon parts, but I ended up returning half the clothes instead.  I also returned 200 hundred pounds of food so we could have extra cash.  Anyway, if need be, we could hunt.

 

"Well, then, you're ready to start," Matt said after I left the store.  "Good luck! You have a long and difficult journey ahead of you."

 

I could help it.  I snorted.  He spoke as if he knew.  If he'd made the journey, he wouldn't still be in Independance.

 

On May 1st, 1848, we set out on our journey.  In town, they played Yankee Doodle Dandy over and over with some instrument I couldn't identify.  I was so glad to leave.  But on the same hand, I felt as though it was a bad idea.  Lots of people died on the Oregon Trail.

 

Zeke informs me that from Independance it's 102 miles to the Kansas River Crossing.  On the way, we find an abandoned wagon.  There is a strange silence among the group.  Not even 100 miles out, and someone had given up.

 

Seven days after starting, we reach the Kansas River.  We caulk the wagon for the crossing, and have no trouble.  Thank God.  From there, according to Zeke, it's 83 miles to the Big Blue River crossing.  Again, less than a day from the river, we find an abandoned river.  It's getting to be a trend!  On May 13, we cross our second river.  I'm not as scared as the first time, and again we caulk the wagon and float across it like a boat.

 

We lost three days on a wrong trail.  Even in the 1800's I had a bad sense of direction.  Then we lost two days on another one.  The men were beginning to doubt my map reading abilities.

 

On May 25, 1848, we reached Fort Kennedy.  It was a nice little place, but that was about all there was to say.  A man called Big Louie (though why is beyond me.  He wasn't very big) told me to take a natural roadway to Fort Laramie. 

 

On June 2, Anna was bit by a snake.  Nothing serious.  Zeke took care of it right away.  But then a few days later, Zeke got typhoid.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't think anyone did.  Anna and Sarah did their best to take care of him while we continued on.

 

We stopped to rest at Chimney Rock.  The landmark was okay, I guess.

 

T B C