Oregon Trail

By: Bertha Velociraptor

Day 1

On April 25, 1854, our wagon train began our journey. I am a widow from Toledo, Ohio looking to start a better life. With 4 children and limited supplies, I would be lying if I said I was not worried. But, to my surprise, the first few days of our daunting journey were rather peaceful, so morale was high. Our first dilemma arose on our third day; we had to cross our first river. There was a Native American offering safe ferry rides across, but his price was high ($25), so I took my chances and forded our wagon. Luckily we crossed safely.

Life on the Trail proved to be dehydrating. Fortunately, he entirety of our wagon train brought a plethora of water, so we were not slowed down.

Later on, some members of our group decided to hunt, but being well prepared in the food department, I chose to pass.

Still later, our train was approached by a Native. He stated he was a gambler, and offered us a deal. In a physical challenge, if we won he would reward us and vice versa. Our strongest member participated and won, so we went on our way with haste.

Near the close of the day, we discovered that wood was a valuable resource. Most of our train was prepared, but two were not and we were delayed as a result.

Day 2

Once again the day began misleadingly uneventfully. News had come through that a Dallas Ritter of a different train had passed. We held a moment of silence for the poor lad.

We began our day by meeting a chief of a local tribe. Due to the immense bravery our our beloved leader we were rewarded with 5 boxes of ammunition.

Unfortunately, our day took a turn for the worse soon after. We drunk too much water in the first part of our trip, and were delayed greatly attempting to make up for the loss.

Immediately following our water collection efforts, we were presented with a second opportunity to hunt. Due to my surplus of ammunition, I chose to participate. With luck, I caught 10 lbs. of fresh rabbit. It was during this when we discovered that bringing rifles was vital on our journey.

Later, we discovered the first fork in the road. With much consideration, our train decided to take the trail deemed the "Burial Grounds Trail", due to its location on top of an ancient Native American Burial Site. We quickly faced our first challenge on this route: a dust storm. But, because of the keen use of our brains, we were able to outrun it without consequences.

Day 3

At the start of the day, a Native approached us with a warning. "Turn around now or face the consequences," he said. We riskily chose not to heed his warning and continue north. With luck, we encountered no problems as a result of our choice.

It seemed like my good fortune ran out there, because soon after my wagon tipped over. No one was hurt, but I lost 100 bulk weight units of supplies. I am scared of what this means for later in my journey.

A member of our group, due to his immense lack of observational skills, stepped on a scorpion that was taking refuge in his boot. He will hopefully be alright, but nothing is for sure .

Our leader informed us that it would be a good time to hunt if we pleased. Lou abundance of ammunition and lack of fresh meat persuaded me to in the end. I was blessed with 20 pounds of elk meat.

Towards the end of the day, a dilemma was put upon us. The only water near by was stagnant, but we needed a way to drink it. Using our ingenuity, we designed an effective system involving buckets, cloth, and boiling the water. Our method was successful and we drank well that night.

That afternoon we came upon a river to cross. Noting the water speed and depth, I wisely chose to pay $50 to take a native's ferry.

Our second fork in the road was discovered near the end of the third day. After considering our options, we chose to be risky and took the "Massacre Valley" . This turned out to be a bad choice when two members of our train were shot in the arm to close out the day.

Day 4

Our fourth day opened to some negative but slightly comical news. Our wagon leader, known to be clumsy, had fallen off her wagon and pierced her buttocks in many a place.. She suffers a great soreness.

The greatest tragedy of all took place today. Two of my children died of the wretched disease cholera. Barely a memorial was conducted for the two (Delocious Velociraptor and Pepper Velociraptor) before we headed on our way.

It proved necessary to bring a pick axe and I found my self unprepared for this. Our team was greatly delayed due to my stupidity.

Today, just for kicks, I hunted once more. I must have lost my accuracy somehow because I shot the wheel of my wagon off. Luckily I brought a spare so we were not delayed at all.

In a rush to circle our wagons., I lost 200 BWUs. I have a terrible feeling this will reflect on the success of our trip. But that proves to be the only hardship on our journey across the desert, and we make is across successfully.

The final leg of our journey began today. We had to possess only 500 BWUs in our wagons to make it up the mountain, so I shed the necessary weight. We made it to a valley and were faced with our final decision. Were we going to try and make it through a possibly frozen mountain passage or stay and camp in the safe valley. We had made it this far so we decided to attempt to make it through the passage. Luckily, pr wagon leader led us well and we were the only wagon train to make it through the passage. Safely in the walamut valley, I started a new life with my two remaining children and lived happily ever after.