Oregon Trail Journal

Headed West for Wealth and Adventure By: Michael Raskin

Day 1

My wagon train and I left for an adventure of a lifetime. It was April 25, 1854, and we were headed to Oregon. Our train was a 6-wagon train. My wagon was a 5-person wagon, but some people tagged along along the way; they were my 10-year-old daughter Charles Jr. II, my 6-year-old daughter ESPN, my wife Bubba Gump Shrimp, an orphan Rango, and me - of course - Poindexter Brewster. Our train had headed off until we got to a river that had stopped us from moving ahead. Luckily we saw a ferry make by an Indian who let us take the ferry for $25. The river was safe to cross, but we took the ferry, because we are that just cautious.


We ran into a pickle when we headed to our first frontier fate. An Indian had crossed paths with us; we couldn't cross unless we had a wooden box. I wanted to lament because of Mur's forgetting to bring a wooden box. Thankfully Will had brought an extra box for Mur, so we went on just fine. We didn't want to pass a great hunting area so a couple of us decided to go see what we could catch. Will had been confident enough to use two of his ammunition boxes, because he knew he was going to be lucky today. Mur only had the confidence to use one of her ammunition boxes. Will had caught 20 pounds of fresh meat, that's something right there. Mur caught nothing.

Day 2

Today was a hot day. We were walking on the same dirt for hours after not getting enough sleep, and most of all we were making sure our kids didn't wonder off. While I was taking a stroll my eyes came across a king cobra. The only thing I knew to do at that point was balancing three books on me... IT WORKED! After the balancing competition with the cobra it went running back home crying to its mamma!


We had to cross another river. Everybody in my group agreed to pay for a ferry instead of forging the raging water. Everyone was safe. We got to a hunting area after that. I caught 30 pounds of rabbit. Hooray for rabbit stew! We came across a fork in the trail. We decided to take the Cheyenne River Trail instead of the Burial Grounds trail, because - man!- that trail sounds depressing.

Day 3

Early today, we came across an Indian man who wouldn't let us pass. He demanded that we lighten our loads. He wanted us to give up one of the kid's toys, our anvil, dishes, fabric, and our cooking oven. We didn't want to give him our few, precious supplies, but what chose did we have. We will figure out how to get by somehow. We traveled through another good hunting area. Unfortunately, we didn't get anything. Hunting in the frontier can be really, really hard.


Our next hinderance today was another river crossing. We could pay another $25 to use the ferry or risk traveling through the river itself. We decided to cross the river ourselves. We made it across the river! Exciting! When we got across the river, we came to a fork in the trail. We decided to take the Massacre Canyon Trail instead of the Long Trail or the Salt Flats Trail. Along the Massacre Canyon Trail got caught in the crossfire between two groups of people who were fighting. I took a bullet to my right arm. After that lots of stuff was a lot harder including writing in this journal.

Day 4

We're pretty far along the Oregon Trail now. It's been quite an adventure. My arm still hurts from getting shot, but it doesn't seem like my wound is getting any worse. My wagon party is holding together pretty well. We crossed another Indian, and we had to lighten our loads yet again. Since we lightened our weight so quickly, we got a nice head start compared to the other wagons. We were back on the trail again.


We crossed paths with three other wagon trails. We needed an athletic person to set things right with the other wagon trails. Dylan was our athlete. Out of four people, Dylan came in third which meant that we didn't lose but didn't really help us either. We came to a snowy pass. Some settlers said not to keep going because it was so dangerous. But we hadn't come this far to stop now, so we decided to risk the snow. We made the wrong decision. The snow surrounded us. We were hopelessly stuck. As I write this journal entry, I wish I had food for my family, but I don't. Things look bleak.