A N:  yes.  I'm trying again.  sue me. 

 

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 April

 

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 April 1st, the very first day out, one of our oxen was injured.  I called him 'Skywise,' though the others though it was weird.

 

"Will he be okay?" I asked.

 

Zeke replied, "Yes, I think so."

 

Nothing eventful happened in the next five days.  Everything went smoothly.  Then, on the 6th, John broke his arm, after falling out of the wagon.

 

I had deja vu then, worried that next the wagon would catch on fire.  I didn't know why.

 

"It's just a broken arm," Zeke said.  "Soon mended."  Though John screamed when it was set.  I hoped I wouldn't break mine.

 

The next day, I got us lost.  It only took us a day to find the trail though.  Only one day behind.

 

Kansas River Crossing.

 

Kansas River -- beautiful, and unspoiled.  The water is bright and blue, the grass green and healthy.  I've never seen anything like it in my life.

 

We caulked the wagon to go across.  They wanted to just try to ford it, but I knew better.  Although they didn't know I was from the future, I told them I'd heard lots of stories about people dying from thinking they could just ford.

 

In the end, we had no problems getting across.  The water was like glass.

 

Many days passed without much happening.  It was somewhat boring, but really, I was glad.

 

Then Skywise, our injured oxen died.  The men said very little; they hadn't gotten attatched to the beast.  Neither had the woman, but they didn't seem to care about much at all.

 

I admit, other than naming it, I had nothing to do with it.

 

On the fifteenth of April, we reach the Big Blue River crossing.  What to say about it?  It was big.  It's was blue.  It was a river.

 

Again we caulked the wagon to cross it, and again we had no problems.

 

Two days later, I suddenly heard John curse.  "The wagon axle broke."

 

"Maybe I can fix it," I offered.  But it was impossible.  We had to replace it with a spare.  Good thing I bought them.

 

A few days later, we reached Fort Kearney.  It was a cute little town, like something out of a book.  We didn't stop very long, just enough to do some looking.

 

"Another ox is injured!" John cried one afternoon.  "We might never make it to Oregon, if we loose all our oxen!"

 

Halfway into May, we reached Chimney Rock.  Many people might think it's impressive, a rock that looks like a chimney.

 

But to me, in my twenty first centuryness, it did not look like a chimney.  It looked like something to offensive to mention.

 

And soon after that, we reached Fort Laramie.  We were low on food, and a couple of times, I went hunting.  I liked hunting a lot, actually.  I wished we could do it every day.  But it took too long.

 

Fort Laramie.  A little castle surrounded by friendly native americans (excuse me, indians, as they were called then), and strange white animals that I couldn't tell if they were ponies or large dogs.  Probably hunting dogs, but still.

 

 

 

During the first part of June, Sarah gets the measels.  Anna takes care of her.  I admire their strength sometimes, doing things I had never dreamed of ever doing.  If someone I knew got the measels, I'd make them go away.

 

I got so distracted by the thoughts, that I took the wrong trail.  Again, I had gotten us lost.  But John found the trail again, two days later.  Everyone grumbled at me.

 

John soon broke his arm again, falling off the wagon again.  Clumsey.  And Anna got dysentary.  I think that comes from drinking bad water.  It seems like everyone gets sick except me.  I wonder why?  You'd think someone from the future, where we weren't exposed to the same things, would be the one getting sick all the time.

 

The next day, we found an abandoned wagon with a set of clothing in it.  They fit me, so we took them.  It was scary to see.  Where had the pioneers gone?  Had they given up?  Or -- shivers travelled down my back -- had they all died?

 

Soon after that, Cutter died, leaving us with two oxen:  Strongbow and Moonshade.  I swear the other thought I was crazy for giving them such names, but I couldn't really explain ElfQuest to them, either.  I mean, would they really understand what a comic book was? 

 

Sarah got lost.  For once, not me.  It took John and Zeke three days to find her in a big slough while I cared for Anna and the animals.

 

We reached Independace Rock on June, 1848.  It's not an amazing rock.  I'm not ever impressed with the milestones the other pioneers are.  Names were carved into it.  Charlie, Johnson, De Smet.  I wondered if De Smet is a person?  Was he going West to form the town of De Smet from the Little House books?   It sent shivers down my spine.  The past was now my future. 

 

A few days later, a wagon wheel broke.  Like the tougne, I tried to fix it.  Unlike the tougne, I succeded.

 

Zeke got typoid.  Again I wondered about why I hadn't so much as sneezed on our journey.

 

Summer truley hits.  We were plauged by little water and not very much grass for the oxen.

 

For many days I hunted, getting nothing.  I had to get food, though.  We were nearly out. 

 

At the South Pass we barely stopped, deciding to head for the Fort.  We need food so badly.  Still I hunted and got nothing.  We were starving to death.

 

A few days out from the Fort, we took the wrong trail, losing five days.  I truely feared we were going to starve.

 

From there, everyone it seems gets sick.  Both Sarah and Anna died.  The water was bad, and little in quanitity.

 

When we made it to Fort Bridger, we spent all our money on food.  We needed it.

 

Soon after leaving the Fort, John died too.  He wanted to be with his wife so badly.

 

Zeke too died, on my birthday.  I carried on alone, hoping, wishing, praying I'd make it.

 

Halfway through October, I realized that I had typhoid.  I recognized it from when Zeke had it. 

 

Winter came fast.  I tried not to stop, though I kept losing the trail.  Without Zeke and John, it took longer to find my way again.

 

Every week or so, as I crossed the loney mountains, there was a snow storm, often causing me to stop the whole day.  At times the trails were impassible for days at a time.  Still, I trudged on.

 

The new year came, and I was so exhausted.   I knew then why, in the times I was living, it  was a disease.  I had never worked so hard in my life.

 

When I get to the Snake River, I hired a Shoshoni Indian to help me across for three sets of clothing.  I had no problems.

 

On the 23rd of January, I died.

 

 

Wait a second.  I couldn't have died.  I'm telling the story!

 

I look around cautiously.  Is this heaven?

 

G A M E  O V E R

 

Oh yeah.  It comes back to me.

 

The Oregon Trail.

 

Online.

 

It was just a game, that's all.

 

None of it really happened.  Thank god.

 

I'm not in the 1800's anymore!  It's 2007 again!

 

Oh thank you thank you thank you!