Oregon. The 33rd state was the long-awaited destination for many travelers during the 19th century. The Oregon Trail was the longest wagon route among the trails to the West, spanning around 2,170 miles in length from Independence, Missouri to Oregon Territory. Before the completion of the first transcontinental railroad in 1869, many wagon riders went on a long, dangerous journey to the West.

During the early spring of 1848, little Oregon had recently became a territory. Tasked to prepare her home for statehood, she must head back home and work to become a state. This was her story over the course of her journey back home.

☆☆☆☆☆

March 1 ~ Independence, Missouri

The start of our journey began in Independence, Missouri. The place was very lively the first time I arrived in the town with Alfred by my side. I was anxious when he told me his states would be the ones to escort me back home; he wouldn't be the one to guide me back home. His boss didn't want to risk the lives of average men. Instead, the second expedition would consist of people who couldn't die easily.

The states who "volunteered" were nice to me, more or less willing to put their health and time at stake for my safety to an extent. Of course, they would be compensated for the time they spent on guiding me back home. Although, I doubt any amount in the world could appease them. Alfred told me not to worry though. He trusted his states would get me back home. Instead of worrying about their opinions, I should get to know them.

I tried to get to know the states who would be escorting me.

There was the guide, Melissa Westbrook (Missouri). The blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl was familiar with the West thanks to the Lewis and Clark Expedition. Familiar with the landscape, she was destined to lead the group, however, her willingness to lead the expedition was her weakest point. She told me she had nothing against me, rather she wished they picked anyone else but her to do this tedious task. I couldn't say I disagree with her, but it still hurt knowing she felt that way.

Next, there was the driver, Kenneth Boone (Kentucky). The brown-haired, brown-eyed teenager was in charge of driving the oxen and wagon along the trail. At first, I was skeptical of his talents considering he's better suited with horses from what I heard. He reassured me he was the best man for the job although I doubt his judgement. He did confuse poison ivy for herbs, so I'll be sure to keep an eye on him.

Then, there was the forager, Eliza Kirkland (Virginia). The brown-haired, gray-eyed woman appeared more fitted for domestic work than journeying. I was incredibly worried she might not handle the long, dangerous trip. However, she proved to be gifted in plants and medicine along with being great in cooking, organizing, and sewing. She told me she was excited for the trip, saying the trip would be a great experience for her, so hopefully her hopes remain high throughout this journey.

Lastly, there was the hunter, Trent Crockett (Tennessee). The brown-haired, blue-eyed teenager was quite a charmer although his bad puns were enough to knock some sense into me. The reason for his stay in the group involved his talent in rifles and knife. His purpose was not only to hunt for food, but also to protect us from any hostiles along the way. If we're lucky, hopefully he won't have to resort to violence during the duration of the trip.

We decided to start the journey in March. We hoped by starting in the early spring there would be enough fresh grass sprouted for our oxen to feed on. Plus, Melissa advised the trip would last around 4-6 months. Leaving after March may risk us enduring late fall and winter's freezing temperatures and lack of grass, so it's best we leave when the weather is perfect.

With plans in set, we followed Melissa into town in search of a general store to buy supplies for the journey. Earlier, the federal government granted us a total of $800.00 to spend, a modest sum at the time. Well, at least for the average American. The only one to complain about the sum was Melissa. She heard the first expedition started with $1,600, twice the amount we have. Apparently the federal government was fairly confident in us being able to survive on a smaller sum. 

"Or, they're being cheapskates," Melissa sarcastically said. Either way, this was the money provided to us, so we must spend it wisely.

While Kenneth and Eliza separated themselves from us in search of a wagon, Melissa, Trent, and I went to Matt's General Store. Upon entering the store, we were greeted to a mustachioed man wearing a red-striped, buttoned vest and brown striped pants with a smoking pipe in hand. The peppy gentleman introduced himself as Matt, the owner of this store. Hearing Melissa's request, Matt was more than happy to help us out, providing us with all the supplies we needed for the trail. We still had to pay him of course, so we were ready to pay him whatever we find necessary for the trip.

Starting off with the oxen, he told us he sells them by the yoke. Each yoke is made up of 2 oxen, costing about $40.00 each. He advised we purchase 3 yoke, enough to carry the wagon's weight throughout the trip.

Next up, he showed us a shelf full of food rations. Much of his food rations consist of flour, sugar, bacon, and coffee. For every pound he weighs, it would cost us $0.20 each. He estimated we'll need at least 200 pounds of food for each individual. He told us we might need more food determining the length of the trip, but it should be enough to keep us going for the first few months of the trail.

Following up on food rations, we went to a section of his store where Matt's wife manages clothing. There were racks of clothing for men and women, boys and girls, even infants. At a special price, every set of clothing costs $10.00 each. He advised we have two sets of clothing for each person, one for the summer and the other for the winter.

Leading us to the back of the store, Matt went behind the counter, bringing out a pile of ammunition boxes to behold. He told us every box had 20 bullets each coming at $2.00 per box. His advice on ammunition was limited to its usefulness in not only hunting, but also for defense against hostile natives and the sort. 

And finally, Matt led us to a section of the store where he keeps spare wagon parts. Most of the parts are made up of wheels, tongues, and axles. At a special price, each part will cost us only $10.00. He advised we buy at least one of each part in case either part of the wagon becomes destroyed along the way.

After his explanation of his merchandise, we were left to explore the rest of the shop, taking out time to figure out the things we need for the journey. By the end of the day, this was our receipt from the store:

Matt's General Store

3 Yoke of Oxen....................$120.00
1000 lbs. of Food................$200.00
10 Sets of Clothing.............$100.00
10 Boxes of Ammunition.....$20.00
2 Wagon Wheel....................$20.00
2 Wagon Axle.......................$20.00
2 Wagon Tongue..................$20.00
40 Bottles of Whiskey..........$10.00
_____________________________
                                          Total: $510.00

The 40 bottles of whiskey were for Kenneth and Trent who kept pestering Melissa to let them have some for the journey. Eventually she relented, however, she made them promise they wouldn't drink while shooting.

After making our purchase, we were left with $290.00. The rest of the money could possibly come in handy for upcoming stores and traders along the trail, however, Matt cautioned the items will be much pricier than his considering the limited supply and high demand the farther down the trail.

While waiting for the oxen to be delivered to us, we spent the entire evening organizing our supplies into the wagon. Before preparing for bed, Eliza gave me an embroidered bag she personally made herself. Inside the bag was a rose colored notebook, two feathered pens, and two inkwells. She spent her own money on the writing tools, saying the trip would be a long one. After thanking her, I decided to use the notebook as a recollection of the days of our travels.

Whew... I guess I've written enough for my first entry. I should get some rest now. Anyway, let's hope my journey back home will be an easy one.

End of Day 1 on the trail.

March 2 ~ Setting off

Before setting off, Melissa and Eliza double-checked the wagon's inventory while Trent saddled up his horse for the journey. I was helping Kenneth get all six oxen hooked to the wagon. I took the opportunity to name each oxen, naming them in the following order from front to back, left to right: Blackberry, Blueberry, Elderberry, Gooseberry, Huckleberry, and Strawberry. 

Kenneth didn't know why I bothered to name them, but I considered the oxen to be our most important members of the group. Without their strength, who would pull the wagon? Certainly not us that's for sure. Kenneth said my choice of names was stupid. I took offense to his insult. When I asked for alternate names, he suggested I call them Majestic Mable, Sir Onion, Reigning Thunder, Eye for Whiskey, Cup Head, and Bobby Boy instead. I had no idea how to react to such names...

After preparation, we began our journey, heading out of Independence and into the West. Melissa already looked homesick when we left. I was also homesick, yet it was much different from Melissa's. After spending nearly a year at the capital, I was finally allowed to go home. The thought of the untouched wilderness and Pacific breeze nearly had me in tears, however, I need to remain tough for what's ahead.

End of Day 2 on the trail.

March 3 ~ Boys will be Boys

Everyone was startled awake by gunshots around the wagon. Eliza, Melissa, and I thought it was a raid, but it turned out to be Kenneth and Trent instead. The two were messing around, wasting bullets on nearby pheasants in the field. Neither one of them shot a bird down, earning the two teenagers a brutal scolding from Eliza.

Since the incident, we continue to travel at a strenuous pace. Like yesterday, we made progress and rested before the setting sun.

End of Day 3 on the trail.

March 4 ~ Broken Foot

There's a reason why Melissa made the boys promise her they wouldn't drink while messing with their rifles. Well... I mean... What was she expecting?

Around evening, I was coming back to the wagon with Eliza, carrying a basket full of wild berries and medicinal herbs we found in the nearby forest. In the distance, we heard loud gunshots we both assumed were the boys messing around. All of a sudden, we heard a loud scream and the gunshots ceased.

Rushing back to the wagon with worried looks, Eliza and I found Kenneth squatting on the ground. He had a hole in his left boot, twitching with blood slowly dribbling out of the gunshot wound. While Eliza was bandaging his foot up, Trent was having a drunken laugh over his injury, much to Kenneth's chagrin. Melissa then proceeded to drain the rest of the alcohol, much to the boy's disappointed groans and intoxicated cries. I couldn't help but giggle over the entire situation. Hopefully the boys learned their lesson from today.

End of Day 4 on the trail.

March 5 ~ Kansas River

By noon on a cool day, we arrived at the Kansas River, the border of Melissai's homeland. We decided to rest for the rest of the day, refilling on water and allowing the oxen to graze.

After observing the river, Melissa found its current depth to be too risky to travel across alone. Kenneth thought otherwise, thinking we can float the wagon across instead. The two argued for hours before Kenneth gave in by the end of the day. We decided to wait for the ferry to arrive and take us over to the other side of the river.

End of Day 5 on the trail.

March 8 ~ Ferry

We waited for three days before the ferry arrived to carry us over. Was it worth it? I do not know. Kenneth remained adamant of the three days and $5.00 being a waste while Melissa said it was worth it. Either way, we were able to cross the river safely.

End of Day 8 on the trail.

March 10 ~ Abandoned Wagon

In the middle of our journey, we stumbled upon an abandoned wagon. We didn't know why it was abandoned. The wagon was perfectly fit for use, yet there was no one using it. Kenneth took this opportunity to get a free wheel wagon wheel and a box of ammo out of this finding before moving on.

End of Day 10 on the trail.

March 15 ~ Big Blue River Crossing

We made it to the Big Blue River Crossing by early afternoon. We decided to rest before making our way across the river tomorrow. Like before, Melissa argued with Kenneth on how we're going to cross the river. This time Kenneth won the group over, suggesting we float the wagon across considering the river isn't that deep. Melissa didn't speak to Kenneth for the rest of the day.

End of Day 15 on the trail.

March 16 ~ Wet Supplies

It was tough, but we were able to caulk the wagon across the Big Blue River. However, there was a leak in our canvas, soaking our supplies as a result. Melissa was quick to place the blame on Kenneth. Without a choice, we spent the entire day laying our supplies out in the sun.

End of Day 16 on the trail.

March 19 ~ Fort Kearney

We arrived at Fort Kearney around noon, allowing us some time to roam around the large fort. We talked to some of the locals around here. One elderly man, a former frontiersman, advised we pace ourselves on our journey, careful we not stress ourselves and become vulnerable to the elements. He also told us a story how he witnessed migrating families coming back to this fort, closely resembling corpses. 

He doubted our group will be able to make it, saying our "young" bodies and inexperience minds will lead us to die out there. Trent laughed his warning off, thinking he was trying to scare us. I should be laughing, but the look in his stern eyes had the skin along my arms shiver. Afterwards, we left him alone to mind his own business.

The sky was quite cloudy today, so we decided to stay at the fort for another day in case the rain ends up dampening the soil that could possibly sink our wagon wheels in the dirt. For now, we rested at an inn. It had been a while, but I was relieved to sleep in a comfortable bed after so long. This luxury is temporary, so I may as well enjoy it while we're here.

End of Day 19 on the trail.

March 21 ~ The Great Plains

Thanks to yesterday's downpour, the Great Plains greeted us to a large field full of bright greens and yellows that spanned the entire landscape. Almost every animal was present. Herds of buffalo were eating the fresh sprouts of grass while colorful pheasants were doing mating dances to impress their female counterparts. Brown and gray rabbits were hopping across the prairie while wild doves flew between the earth and sky. It was a beautiful, peaceful sight.

It was, but Trent had to ruin it. Tired of food rations, he went off with his rifle to kill an animal. His rifle kept spooking the animals away, ticking me off with every shot he made. His shooting had gotten annoying to the point Melissa yelled at him for wasting ammo. His shooting ended when he managed to shoot an elk. Everyone but me ate elk meat that night.

Not that they banned me from eating any. I was still disturbed the way Trent shot the elk. Hearing its high-pitched cry echo when it got shot in the head. Its soulless eyes brimmed without life. The smell of blood as its corpse gets butchered, all red and full of mushy guts and slimy organs. I... I just couldn't bare to eat it without feeling guilty about it. I ended up eating food rations instead.

End of Day 21 on the trail.

March 28 ~ Chimney Rock

We made it to Chimney Rock, a famous landmark along the trail. A single rocky pillar made by the eroding winds of time, standing over at an impressive three hundred feet. I couldn't believe such a magnificent feat created by the hands of Mother Nature was nicknamed "elk penis" by the natives here. Now I can't get rid of the image of an elk penis out of my head...

End of Day 28 on the trail.

March 29 ~ Broken Arm

I don't know what to say about today. What started off as stupid became a life or death situation. I just can't believe he survived that.

Trent was riding on his horse, shooting away at a massive herd of buffalo like the arrogant rider he was. We were watching him from afar, the girls and I shaking our heads while Kenneth kept the wagon moving. Out of nowhere, a large buffalo charged at Trent from from behind where he wasn't looking. Everyone had their breaths sucked in seeing Trent fly off his horse, landing a few feet away from the enraged buffalo. Kenneth got his rifle and hurried over to shoot the buffalo, killing the bull after the twelfth shot. He wasn't able to save Trent's horse, but he managed to carry Trent, still alive, back to the wagon.

I had to look away when I saw Trent's right arm bend in an unnatural angle. More terrifying was his painful cries while Eliza did her best to fix his arm into place, forcing me to cover my ears hearing a sudden crack followed by a nasty scream. By the end of it all, Trent sat at the back of the wagon with his arm in a bandaged sleeve, now in a properly bent form. He look traumatized, but alive in one piece. 

End of Day 29 on the trail.

March 31 ~ Fort Laramie

We arrived at Fort Laramie around the late afternoon. We were questioned by the milita there before entering the compound. Afterward, we made the decision to leave the fort the next morning.

Trent and Melissa had an argument over purchasing ammunition at the fort's local store. Trent wanted us to be prepared in case of hostile natives and thieves that could possibly ambush the wagon. On the other hand, Melissa pointed to his broken arm and his reckless, wasteful behavior that led us with two boxes of ammunition left. It didn't help the store's prices were considerably higher than normal. In the end, they settled on buying one box. The two didn't talk to each other for the rest of the evening.

End of Day 31 on the trail.

April 2 ~ Thief

Yesterday night, everyone woke up early to Trent's shouts. We could barely see in the night, but I saw a lanky figure making their way toward a horse. Before Trent or Kenneth could grab their guns, the figure was miles away from us. For the rest of the night, Trent volunteered to keep watch.

By early morning, Eliza inspected the wagon, noticing 99 pounds of food rations was missing. Melissa and Eliza were relieved nothing else was stolen, nor our lives harmed over the incident. As for the boys, they were as Kenneth grumbled, "pissed like a grizzly caught in a fox trap". With Trent still unable to hunt, we had to conserve on what's left of the food rations for now.

End of Day 33 on the trail.

April 5 ~ A Bad Case of Diarrhea (Dysentery)

Kenneth wasn't looking too good this morning. Despite telling us he was fine, he looked like he was in pain. He kept making us stop every hour or so, telling us he needed to go to the bathroom each time. After the first three stops, we remain silent, not wanting to offend his private business. But when he had to go for the fourth attempt, Eliza secretly tailed him.

Kenneth was in absolute denial when Eliza found his bloody secretions. He refused to admit his stomach pains and slight fever until his fifth sudden stop did he finally concede to Eliza's help. She concluded he was having a bad case of diarrhea, and forced us to stop for his sake to get some rest and drink lots of water to flush the bad stuff out of his system. Later that evening, Kenneth could barely move without complaining of stomach pains. He refused to eat anything that night.

End of Day 36 on the trail.

April 6 ~ Another Bad Case of Diarrhea (Dysentery)

Kenneth appeared slightly better since yesterday, but now Eliza was feeling ill. After spending some time alone in the forest, she told us she got the same disease as Kenneth. I thought she contracted his illness, but she told me it doesn't work that way. She told me it must be the food.

Melissa questioned Trent if any of the animals he hunted before the accident were acting weird. The young man could barely recall his hunts. He faintly remembered one hunt where he shot a limping deer, but he thought it was from a broken leg than a sort of sickness.

When we stopped for the night, Melissa and I went through our supplies to throw out any food Trent had hunted.

End of Day 37 on the trail.

April 9 ~ Rain

From noon to evening, there was a downpour of rain. Kenneth and Eliza were still sick. Progress remains slow.

End of Day 40 on the trail.

April 10 ~ More Rain

From morning to early afternoon, there was a shower of rain. Kenneth and Eliza were still sick. Progress remains slow.

End of Day 41 on the trail.

April 11 ~ Even More Rain

From morning to night, there was a constant drizzle of rain. Kenneth and Eliza were still sick. Progress remains slow.

End of Day 42 on the trail.

April 12 ~ Four Days of Rain

The rain just wouldn't stop. On and off it went. Slight sprinkle to heavy downpours. The rain had yet to cease. The sky remained gray and cloudy. Not a hint of sunlight. All that came was rain.

It didn't help Kenneth and Eliza still had diarrhea. Their abdominal pain had the rest of us worried. With the next fort hundreds of miles away, there was little we could do for them besides rest and water.

Progress remains slow.

End of Day 43 on the trail.

April 16 ~ Independence Rock

For once, I can see the bright sun and crystal blue sky on this warm day. I couldn't help but laugh for the first time after the constant rain we had so far. To make things better, Kenneth seemed completely cured of his illness while Eliza had improved significantly. Trent's right arm had healed quickly, so he should be able to hunt again. It was great news for all of us.

By noon, we made it to Independence Rock. There were a couple of wagons at the base when we arrived at the massive rock. Melissa managed to make a fair trade with one of the folks for some food rations in exchange for two sets of our clothing. While everyone was talking to the travelers, I was busying myself to carving my name on the large, granite rock.

It took me two hours to carve my name into the rock. Most of the time was spent trying to decide on the name. 

End of Day 47 on the trail.

April 20 ~ Grave

We came across a mound of dirt along the side of the trail. The mound was around six feet in length; appearing to be recent. A small bouquet of white daisies was placed on top of the mound. There was no tombstone to tell the name, whether they were a man or a woman, a boy or a girl, a parent or a child, there was nothing there. How they died we do not know. 

Everyone remain silent seeing the grave. Before we left, Eliza picked five daisies from a nearby field. She placed them on the grave before we continued our journey.

End of Day 51 on the trail.

April 23 ~ Broken Wheel

Pebbles and previous wagon tracks have caused the left wheel of our wagon to crack. We were forced to stop to allow Kenneth and Trent some time to replace the wheel. After fixing the wheel, we were able to continue our journey.

End of Day 54 on the trail.

April 25 ~ South Pass

Around noon, we arrived at South Pass, the path that would take us through the Rockies.

Before heading down the trail, Melissa had us arguing whether we should continue to Soda Springs or take a detour to resupply at Fort Bridger. She wanted us to play it safe and resupply for food while the boys complained we should get this journey over with and that we'll only be wasting energy by going to the fort. With Eliza siding with her, I was the tiebreaker between the two sides.

Melissa refused to look at me for the rest of the day since making my decision.

End of Day 56 on the trail.

April 26 ~ Sudden Blizzard

In the middle of the night, the temperature had suddenly dropped. We were woken up to snow falling down on our bodies, forcing us to huddle in the tight quarters of the wagon. We had hoped the snowfall would be light. But by morning, the light snowflakes became an icy hurricane.

We were forced to delay our progress in favor of finding shelter from this sudden blizzard. We managed to find shelter behind a set of boulders against the cold winds, but our only source were our blankets and body heat, forcing us to huddle close to one another. It was very awkward and uncomfortable. Hopefully this blizzard is temporary.

End of Day 57 on the trail.

April 30 ~ Natives

We were traversing the trail when we were suddenly ambushed by a group of natives. Kenneth and Trent were about to draw their guns when Melissa yelled at them to lower them. If it weren't for Melissa, blood would've been shed on that day.

Despite being unable to understand their native language, the natives were incredibly nice to us, speaking to us in loose English in a polite manner. Apparently they posed no harm to us. They were scouts looking over the land, seeing that travelers make their way through peacefully. Contrary to the hostile, barbaric image, they were a peaceful group looking for people to trade with. Trent was cautious about them at first. However, the natives won him over by offering him a beautiful paint horse in exchange for one of our rifles and a set of clothing. After begging for Melissa to make the trade, Trent was back on a horse, looking the happiest I've ever seen since starting the journey. 

Before we left the natives, they told us we were heading down the wrong trail, heading south instead of north toward Soda Springs. Melissa wasn't sure of their word, but seeing as how we haven't seen the Green River Passing yet, we decided to follow their advice and make our way in the other direction. Hopefully they were telling the truth.

End of Day 61 on the trail.

May 4 ~ Green River Passing

We finally made it. No, not Soda Springs, but the Green River Passing. After traversing the dry wasteland, we finally found water. Thank goodness the natives were honest with us. If we kept going south, we wouldn't have found water and suffered from dehydration. The day was so hot, I couldn't help but leap into the river with my clothes on. Trent did the same thing although it took Eliza's scolding to stop him from taking off all his clothes. I mean, I wouldn't mind... *blushes*

The day eventually grew cooler when the sun started to set under the horizon. After refilling our canteens, we unanimously decided to wait for a ferry to cross the river. The width was absolutely too large to cross, and we doubt our oxen and wagon would be able to make it without any sort of damages.

End of Day 65 on the trail.

May 7 ~ $7.00

The fee for this ferry ride was more expensive than the previous one. Thankfully we still had money to pay for a safe ride across the river.

End of Day 68 on the trail.

May 11 ~ Lost the Trail

'Where are we?' was an infuriating question on everyone's minds today.

It was a blame game between Kenneth and Melissa. Did Kenneth lead us in the wrong direction? Was Melissa reading the trails wrong? We've been walking for four days without any indication of us being close to Soda Springs. No progress was made. All that was made was name calling and nasty remarks. I was sick of it.

The lost days were as heated as the head-pulsing bickering I kept hearing every hour. My head hurts. I can't think straight. I'm going to stop writing for now.

End of Day 72 on the trail.

May 12 ~ Fever

I woke up this morning feeling warmer than normal. My tongue felt swollen and my throat was harshly dry. I coughed a couple of times, but I brushed it off, thinking I simply needed some water. When I made the first hundred steps that morning, I felt immensely tired, almost as if I was carrying a boulder on top of my back. Before I realized it, I collapsed.

By the time I came, my head was on Eliza's lap with everyone gathering around her, looking terrified, then relieved to see me coming back into conscious. After a quick checkup, Eliza concluded I was having a high fever. As a remedy to this, she wanted me to rest in the wagon.

She also advised I don't waste my energy besides eating and sleeping. Therefore, she asked I stop writing in this journal for now. Hopefully I get better soon.

End of Day 73 on the trail.

May 22 ~ Soda Springs

I can write again! Miraculously I survived my fever. I can finally taste my bland food rations and run around freely without dying from fatigue. It was truly a miracle.

Just in time too as we finally made it to Soda Springs. A bunch of travelers and wagons were crowding around the spring as we made camp and rested for the day. Apparently from what Eliza claimed, the water here is supposedly good in treating medical problems. Seeing how my health is improving, Eliza wanted me to have some of the water. The water tasted okay in my opinion. Slightly metallic, but okay. Everyone else tried it and Melissa seemed to be the only one to find the water disgusting.

End of Day 83 on the trail.

May 23 ~ Another Fever

We were about to set off on the trail again when we noticed Melissa's nasty coughs and shivering. Before she could speak, she ran away from us and began to vomit behind a row of spruce trees.

Eliza diagnosed her illness to be a fever. She wasn't sure for the cause of this, whether it was mine she accidentally got or it was contaminated water from the spring. Seeing how everyone wasn't vomiting, I couldn't help but apologize profusely to Melissa. She told me there was no need to apologize, but seeing how much pain she was in I couldn't help but cry right in front of her.

For Melissa's sake, we spent another day at Soda Springs for her to rest. None of us have drank the spring's water since then.

End of Day 84 on the trail.

May 24 ~ Injured Blueberry

Melissa's fever remained high since yesterday. Her coughing has increased and she could barely speak with her sore throat. Her eyes were inflamed and her nose was dripping more than a leak in the ceiling. We thought on camping another day at Soda Springs, however, she wanted us to press on with the journey. With the weather becoming warmer and the trail becoming rockier, we had to move at a steady pace.

When we were going up a slope, Blueberry, the right leading oxen, suddenly stumbled from the the loose rocks. Our wagon was taken aback a couple of feet before Kenneth managed to get the panicked oxen back in line. When we made it over the slope, Kentucky made us stop to inspect the oxen to see how they were holding up. 

Checking Blueberry, he saw a nasty gash on its right hoof. The oxen wasn't able to place a lot of pressure on the hoof, barely able to move if going at a strenuous pace. Kenneth had to switch Blueberry with Strawberry, hoping Blueberry's injury wouldn't hold them back by much.

End of Day 85 on the trail.

May 25 ~ Skin Rash (Measles)

Melissa wasn't getting any better. She was developing a red rash around the mouth of her face. When Eliza asked Melissa to open her mouth, she found a colony of tiny, white spots all over the inside of her mouth. Eliza was beginning to panic despite staying calm over our previous injuries and illnesses for the last three months or so. 

She tried everything. She tried, yet nothing seemed to work. The herbal treatment helped diminished the fever and pain somewhat, but everything else seemed to do nothing. All we can do for Melissa is let her rest in the wagon, and hurry to the upcoming fort ahead. Hopefully there's a doctor who knows what to do.

End of Day 86 on the trail. 

May 26 ~ Fort Hall

We arrived at Fort Hall around early afternoon. There was only one certified doctor at the fort who was willing to see us on Melissa's condition. He told us he has seen her condition quite a few times, most cases involving young children. There is no official name to the disease other than it being deadly and infectious. 

He advised Eliza to keep giving Melissa her herbal remedies as it seems to help keep her stable. He also advised she get plenty of rest, providing her clean water and food in the hopes her body would be able to fight off the infection. Other than that, we could only pray and see.

End of Day 87 on the trail.

May 28 ~ Mysterious High Fever (Typhoid)

Trent woke up in the middle of the night, puking and crying in agony, saying his stomach and head hurt as though he was shot in both places. Everyone spent the whole night trying to get him comfortable, asking him to toughen it out and rest while Eliza tried to lower his high fever. He kept talking, growing delirious on how he might not be able to make the trip, saying in a trembling voice how we should go on without him. It was a scary sight.

Upon closer inspection, Eliza found red spots all over his chest. She thinks it's some sort of chicken pox, however, she couldn't figure out what was causing his illness. We originally thought it was Melissa, however, Trent was nowhere close to Missouri during the whole trip.

End of Day 89 on the trail.

June 1 ~ Lost the Trail Again

Melissa and Trent are still sick. Melissa's temperature had lowered, but her red rash still remains. Trent's condition had yet improve. Again, Eliza was doing her best, however, we can only pray.

With Melissa out, I was put in charge with the map, helping Kenneth guide the wagon. When we stopped before evening, I realized we were going the wrong way. Tomorrow, we'll have to retrace our steps and go in the right direction. 

No one blamed me for the mistake. They were too concerned over their friends' well-being.

End of Day 93 on the trail.

June 3 ~ Blueberry Died

This morning, we discovered Blueberry had yet to wake up among the oxen. The gash on its right swollen hoof was spewing creamy white puss and tiny maggots. There was no breath or heartbeat left in the oxen. Unhooking Blueberry from the wagon, we left the dead oxen along the side of the trail.

End of Day 95 on the trail.

June 6 ~ Mysterious High Fever Part II (Typhoid)

Melissa had gotten better thanks to Eliza's efforts. She could barely walk, but she was back to speaking with us normally.

But as she was getting better, Kenneth's health took a turn for the worst. He started showing signs of Trent's illness. With him unable to driver the wagon, Eliza was left to carry out the task of steering the wagon. Progress was cut in half as a result of Eliza's inexperience with this task.

Before cooking dinner, the girls and I decided to inspect our supplies to see if there was anything that could cause the boy's infection. Behind a crate of food rations was a soaked burlap bag. When Eliza opened the bag, a cloud of toxic foulness wafted into my nostrils, sending me running a few feet before puking. It was rancid buffalo meat from three weeks ago.

End of Day 98 on the trail.

June 10 ~ Exhaustion

In the middle of the day, Eliza suddenly passed out on me. I had to take the reins while Melissa, riding on Trent's horse, rushed over to see what was going on. After undergoing lots of stress from treating our afflictions while steering the wagon, Eliza had reached her limit. I didn't realized it, but I started to notice her pale, emaciated appearance. I couldn't believe how blind I was to her diminishing condition.

Melissa took a hold of the wagon reins while I rode Trent's horse. She and I ate in silence that evening.

End of Day 102 on the trail.

June 17 ~ Snake River

Good news. Kenneth and Trent are completely better, and Eliza was almost cured of her fatigue so long as she doesn't push herself. For the first time in so long, everyone seemed completely normal.

Just in time before evening, we made it to Snake River. We were incredibly thirsty, having used almost all our water when we were sick. Before I could blink, Kenneth and Trent both had their heads in the river, drinking like mutts much to our ladies' contempt.

Considering the river's depth, Melissa had us wait for a guide who'll lead us across the river. For once we didn't mind the wait. Our group had been through a lot and wanted to rest after going through so much.

End of Day 109 on the trail.

June 18 ~ Snake Bite

I spoke too soon of the good news. Eliza came running to us in a panic, showing us two bloody puncture wounds on her right hand. Trent frantically asked her if the snake was venomous, only to receive her flustered sobs.

With haste Melissa and I helped Eliza over to river while Trent went back to the wagon to retrieve bandages to help cover the wound. Kenneth went off on his own, going to where Eliza was searching for berries in the hopes of finding the snake that bit her.

While dressing Eliza's snake bite, we heard a gunshot in the distance. Not long after the shot was made, Kenneth returned with a dead, four foot, striped snake in hand. The snake wasn't venomous. We were lucky that day.

End of Day 110 on the trail.

June 19 ~ Shoshoni Native

After the snake bite incident, Melissa managed to find a Shoshoni Native who was willing to help us cross the river. In exchange for his help, we gave him three sets of our winter clothing. Afterward, he led us safely across without a problem.

End of Day 111 on the trail.

June 21 ~ Impassable Trail

The trail we chose was blocked by giant mound of dirt and heavy boulders that were heavier than oxen itself. Melissa suspected last week's rain storms may have caused this blockade. Without a choice, we were forced to head back and go through an alternate trail.

End of Day 113 on the trail.

June 24 ~ Family

Along the way, we encountered a family of five: a father, a mother, a son around my age, and two younger daughters. The wagon they were using had lost its front left wheel, leaving them unable to continue their journey.

Out of pity, we lend them one of our wheels. They were about to give us money, but Eliza refused their grateful gesture. After helping them repair the wheel, we went ahead of the family.

End of Day 116 on the trail.

July 4 ~ Fort Boise

There were few people at Fort Boise when we arrived that evening. Replacing Blueberry the Oxen was Cranberry who wasn't cheap in the slightest. For once, Melissa was surprisingly lenient toward Kenneth and Trent's insistence on buying the fort's expensive alcohol. I didn't know why at first, but I quickly realized what today it was.

Around a campfire, we all sang patriotic songs in merry unison to Alfred's birthday. I asked Eliza her thoughts on what the rest of the states are doing. She told me they're probably at the President's House, most likely drinking and singing the night like we're doing. I felt her and everyone else's homesickness, nearly moving me into tears.

End of Day 126 on the trail.

July 6 ~ Broken Axle

I have started noticing the trail we chose was bumpier than usual. For very mile we crossed, there was a two foot wide mound the wagon had difficulty running over. By the sixth bump, there was a loud snap and the back half of the half suddenly collapsed. Kenneth nearly fell off his seat when it happened.

The wagon axle was snapped completely in half. It took everyone's efforts to replace the broken axle. As he was fixing the axle, Trent pointed out something out of the dirt. He picked up the white, inch long stick and showed it to everyone. Eliza took the bone and examined it herself. After a few seconds, she dug a hole in the mound, and buried the bone there.

When Trent asked her what it was, she said it was a human bone. A finger bone to be precise. Apparently the mounds we've been running through along the trail were graves of previous migrants who attempted to traverse the trail. I nearly had a heart attack realizing this. Everyone had now become conscious of upcoming mounds since this revelation.

End of Day 128 on the trail.

July 14 ~ Elderberry Died

While continuing down the trail, Elderberry, one of the oxen, dropped onto the ground all of a sudden. Halting the wagon, Kenneth checked Elderberry, and found no sign of breathing. The bull seemed fit without a sign of sickness in him. His sudden death was a mystery to all of us.

End of Day 136 on the trail.

July 18 ~ Blue Mountains

Today was a scorching day. Sweat dripped along all our foreheads as everyone tried to endure the blistering afternoon. The oxen were breathing incredibly hard trying to pull the wagon through the Blue Mountains. Before the sun could set, the oxen collapsed onto their knees, refusing to budge despite Kenneth's shouts to get moving. Without a choice, we stopped early.

The sight of the Blue Mountains surrounding us was beautiful. Millions of conifer trees covered the expanse as blue ridges hovered over the dark green wilderness in the background of a clear, blue sky. It's amazing how far along we are in this journey. Going through forests, rivers, grasslands, prairies, desert, cliffs, and then here. Once we make it down the mountain, I'll be back home.

While we rested under the melting sun, Melissa brought up the map and told us of a crossroad coming up ahead of us. We could go to Fort Walla Walla and resupply our low shortage of food and water. Or, we could go directly to the Dalles instead. With home being so close, I favored going to the Dalles. Everyone else seemed to agree, wanting to hurry and finish the trip as soon as possible.

End of Day 140 on the trail.

July 19 ~ Wagon Caught Fire

The weather had yet to cool since yesterday. The sun was completely out in the clear sky, burning the back of our necks as we toughen through the blazing daylight. I could barely walk straight, close to falling on my face. My sore feet were ready to give out on me. I was about to stop when my nostrils caught on a smoky smell.

I thought there was a forest in the distance. Turning my head around, I saw the back of the wagon on fire. I screamed, "Fire!" and everyone turned to what I was seeing and panicked to the unbelievable stroke of bad luck. Kenneth stopped the wagon and moved the oxen away from the burning wagon. Trent started throwing dirt onto the fire. Melissa attempted to tear off the flaming canvas. Eliza and I hurried to to get everything out of the wagon before it could become charred. 

By the end of the afternoon, we lost a wagon tongue and 122 pounds of food in the fire. With less than a 100 pounds of food on us, we'l have to conserve on our rations. In the days to come, we'll have to rely on Trent to provide us food with his hunts. That is if he's successful in getting anything.

End of Day 141 on the trail.

July 22 ~ Severe Thunder Storm

The dark gray sky shattered our eardrums with crackling claps of thunder throughout the morning and afternoon. The wind was turbulent, enough to send giant tree branches down onto the oxen and wagon. Coupled with a blinding, furious drizzle, we were battered and beaten by the storm. 

We were forced to stop, delaying progress once again. Luckily for us, we found a large cave along the base of the mountain. We were able to fit our wagon inside, spending the rest of time trying to weather out the dangerous weather.

I had difficulty sleeping. I shuddered every time lightning flashed through the skyline, awakening my trembling eyes to a bright flash and a slashing boom. Eliza allowed me to sleep close to her, comforting me, shushing me with soft lullabies she once sang to a young America.

End of Day 144 on the trail.

July 23 ~ Broken Leg

After the severe thunder storm, we were greeted to a thick fog surrounding the entire landscape. We attempted to carefully traverse the fog at a steady pace, however, we barely made any progress due to being unable to locate the trail.

At one point, the wagon jumped all of a sudden. We heard a cry and Kenneth stopped the wagon. I was confused as was everyone else to whose cry it was. We thought it was from someone not far from here, but then heard a scream followed by, "My leg!" Taking a role call, we realized Melissa wasn't with us. We panicked, calling her name into the fog. Minutes later, Trent found her a hundred steps behind us, lying on the ground, cradling her left leg. I had to look away seeing a bone sticking out of her leg.

While Eliza hurried to create a splint, Melissa told us her skirt got caught on the wagon by accident. Before she could tug her dress away, she tripped from a pothole, and got ran over by the wagon. Unable to walk without support, the boys helped Melissa onto the wagon, careful not to place pressure on her left leg. Afterward, we decided to stop until the fog clears away.

End of Day 145 on the trail.

July 24 ~ Lost Child (Cholera)

We found a lost child along the trail today. He was the same boy from the family we helped out earlier. The thirteen year old boy was emaciated, reduced to shivering, pale skin and ghastly bones. His dull blue eyes were sunken into his skull, making him look more like a skeleton. His weak body sat still, quivering in the damp, wool blanket he had around him on this warm day. He held the wool blanket with the cold tips of his bluish tinted fingers. Despite the eminent pain he was in, he was able to recognize us, forming a small smile full of hope on his face.

The boy's name was Benson. Benson asked if he can join our group and help him find his family. We were unable to say yes. Nor did we deny him. Despite the possibility of him being infectious, Eliza forced us to let him join us. The truth was, she confessed to us secretly, his condition was too far gone. "I wish to ease his suffering, and make sure he doesn't die alone," she pleaded. Pulling the guilty rug from right under us, we allowed the boy to follow behind us.

Benson struggled to keep up with us, even after Kenneth slowed the wagon to half his normal steady speed. Three hours later, the child suddenly vomited and collapsed onto the ground, forcing us to stop and attend to his needs. Benson asked Eliza in a weak voice, "Will I be able to see Mommy and Daddy again?" She wasn't able to respond to his question immediately. When the child appeared to be sleeping, Eliza left us for an hour, going off somewhere in the night. For an hour, we heard her muffled sobs before drifting off to sleep.

End of Day 146 on the trail.

July 25 ~ Dead Child

They didn't wake me when they buried the body. We left soon after burying him.

End of Day 147 on the trail.

July 27 ~ Native American Attack

Words couldn't describe what we saw. Broken wooden spears and arrows were scattered along the trail, sticking up like saplings and thorns that were a hazard to the oxen. The dirt revealed footprints of around twenty people, the pattern was chaotic, overlapping one another. There were blood splatters on almost surface of the path and forest that surround us. Everyone was on edge.

A crimson side trail led us to find a ruined wagon turned on its side in a muddy trench. The canvas was slashed to shreds, cut clean in straight lines. The oxen that usually pull the wagon were nowhere to be found. Instead, we found the rest of the sick boy's family; all massacred in pools of their own blood. The mother was curled up around her daughters while the father lay a few feet away with arrow sticking out of his back.

Eliza wanted us to give the bodies a proper burial. However, Melissa cautioned the ones who did it may still be around. After all, the blood was fresh and may have happened only hours ago. Quickly and silently, we forced ourselves to look the other way and get out of the area.

End of Day 149 on the trail.

July 29 ~ Dead Horse

Trent's brown dappled horse suddenly collapsed. The horse wasn't looking too good. Even after spending an hour of rest, the horse continued to lie on its side, breathing immensely through its nostrils. Trent tried to encourage the horse to get up, pushing the horse off its side and tempting the horse with sugar. The horse remained grounded.

It was difficult to watch. To be honest, I don't think any of us expected the horse to last the trip. We gave Trent a moment to talk to the horse, letting him make his goodbyes before moving on. Thoughtful of my feelings, he told me and the others to go ahead without him, telling me specifically to cover my ears. 

After moving the wagon some distance away, I could still hear the single gunshot he made. Half an hour later, Trent was back walking with us.

End of Day 151 on the trail.

July 31 ~ The Dalles

We arrived at the Dalles where a few wagons had settled before going the final stretch. We were left at a crossroads, deciding on how to take the final route. We either go on a raft, risking a ride down the river and hopefully reach our stop without crashing into the rocks and drowning. Or, we could go through the Barlow Toll Road, a safer but longer land route to my home.

For now, we rested and prepared for one last push to my home. With two boxes of ammunition left and twenty pounds of food left, we needed to conserve as much as possible. We're almost there and I know we can do it. We just need to preserve and survive.

End of Day 153 on the trail.

August 1 ~ The Barlow Toll Road

Although quicker to raft down the Columbia River, we didn't want to risk crashing into the rocks and drowning. And so, we decided to take the land passage down the Barlow Toll Road.

We had to pay a hefty $8.00 simply to go through the road. Quite ludicrous in my opinion. We were quite fortunate to still have money on us, so passage down the road was relatively simple and straight-forward.

End of Day 154 on the trail.

August 4 ~ Heavy Fog

When we woke up this morning, we were surrounded by a heavy fog. Not wanting to make the same mistake, we stay camped in the same spot.

End of Day 157 on the trail.

August 5 ~ Lost

I don't know what to do. I kept yelling for help, but no one has come to get me. I'm scared. I don't want to die.

I went off the trail in need to do some business. The wagon was travelling at a steady pace, so I thought I can catch up rather than have them wait for me. Just as I was about done with business, I heard growls right behind me. A glimpse of gray fur and snarling teeth had me running for my life. I screamed for help. I climbed up a cliff and huddled close to the rock, looking down at a pack of five wolves five feet below me.

I don't know what to do. I kept yelling for help, but no one came so far. It's getting dark. The wolves are still there. I threw small stones at them, but they only get angry at me. I honestly don't know what to do. I'm scared. I just want to go home.

End of Day 158 on the trail.

August 7 ~ Found

They found me. The wolves are gone. I'm safe now.

I was crying in Trent's arms when he found me curled up on top of a rock ledge. I hadn't drank or ate anything in the past two days. I could barely talk to thank Trent and the others for saving me. I...

End of Day 160 on the trail.

August 8 ~ Flu

Yesterday, I passed out from fatigue. I woke up around noon, lying down underneath a pile of blankets in the moving wagon. My nose was all runny and I was coughing all of a sudden. Eliza told me I was having the common cold, so rest is a priority. As annoying as this cold was, I was glad to be back with everyone. For now, I'm going to stop writing for today and get some needed rest.

End of Day 161 on the trail.

August 10 ~ Out of Food

Two days ago, Trent used up the last ammo box trying to defend us from a pack of wolves. Yesterday, we used up the last of our rations. Eliza managed to forage for wild berries, but it wasn't enough to quench everyone's hunger.

I want to say it was my fault for delaying our progress. If they weren't wasting their time looking for me, we didn't have to starve. Everyone was quick to assure it wasn't my fault, but I still feel bad about it.

End of Day 163 on the trail.

August 14 ~ Willamette Valley

After 167 days on the trail, we finally arrived at Willamette Valley. I recognized the settlement I came from, now larger than ever. After everything we've been through, all of us managed to make it to the village. We have all lost weight since the beginning of the trip. Most of us were scarred, but we made it in the end.

Everyone in the village welcomed us. Some of the men were chuckling at our suffering, and we couldn't help but laugh along. We were like them. We survived, and we can finally rest now. We can finally eat a proper meal. Drink clean water. Rest in comfortable beds. Not feel sick. Not get injured. Not dying at all. We're now safe and sound.

The doctor gave me some medicine, treating my flu and making sure there was nothing else wrong with me. Already I was feeling better. I still had sniffles, but my homesickness was finally cured. I'm now back home, and I couldn't be happier. Finally, I can smell the Pacific breeze again.

End of the Oregon Trail.

September 1 ~ Last Entry

Melissa, Kenneth, Eliza, and Trent have recently departed by ship, heading back home in the East. The journey by ship would take them about a year to reach the other side of the continent, so my desire to see them stay in my house any longer was unthinkable. They could also always head back by land  in less time although I doubt they want to go through the same experience again.

I already miss them. I want to see them again, talk to them, learn more about them. Right now, I can't. At least temporary. Right now, I'm officially a territory of the United States. My task right now is to become a state. Thus, I've been working to complete the guidelines and see my home develop. After that, I may have to head back east to the capital and get my statehood approved. 

When that happens, I hope the railroad will be built by then. No one should endure the hardships and suffer along the Oregon Trail. Tens, hundreds, thousands, so many people died making their way to my home, and I couldn't help but feel this is all my fault. I want them to come to my home, but without making the large sacrifices. I want them to make it here without crying over the loss of a relative or a leg. I want them to be safe, unhurt without a scratch on their skin or a drop of blood wasted. Until such a reality happens, this is my last entry.

End of Journal.

☆☆☆☆☆

+ To those who aren't aware by the format of this story, I partially base the story on "The Oregon Trail" game. The game is free to play, so feel free to play it yourself and comment how well you did on surviving the trail. I played the game twice: the first time as a banker and the second time as a carpenter (I didn't want to frustrate myself playing the broke-ass farmer lol). Shockingly enough, I did better as the carpenter, so most of the chapter was based on the second run of the game.

- In summary on how "horribly" I did on my first run: Virginia kept getting lost every month and was the only one to die on the journey. I ran into lots of impassable trails and wrong turns, so that delayed my progress. And lastly, I chose the Columbia River in that run instead of the Barlow Toll Road. Initially I didn't understand the directions of the river minigame, crashing into the third sign post rather than land after passing it. As a result, I ended up drowning Kentucky and Missouri. Whoops... I ended up arriving at Willamette Valley on September 7, a month longer than my second run on medium difficulty. Lesson on both experiences: Having all that extra dough doesn't mean jack shit on the Oregon Trail. Also, the actual Oregon Trail sucked balls!

+ I also did research on the Oregon Trail itself to provide more detail on the hardships of the trail as well as add more to the places along the wagon route. Some diseases like cholera and typhoid didn't have proper names, nor were people aware of its causes and cures. Also, much to my surprise, some of the fatalities and injuries to happen on the trail included shooting accidents and getting trampled by the wagon. While there were casualties from Native American attacks, not all Native Americans attacked the migrants; some even helped the travelers and entered trades with them. There was a lot of information regarding this subject. As one could tell by this long chapter, I worked my butt off trying to make it somewhat accurate.

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Feel free to vote or comment any thoughts on Oregon or the chapter here.