Oregon Trail Journal

By: Steven McCormick (Guildersleeve McDougal)

Journal Entry 1

Esteemed Journal,

My name is Guildersleeve McDougal, and I am setting out for Oregon, to seek better land and wealth. I am bringing with me my entire family; my mother, my wife, and my four children. I hope to build a church so that I may spread the word of our Lord to more and more people. We have packed sufficient supplies, and will depart tomorrow. For the time being, I bid you farewell.

Journal Entry 2

Esteemed Journal,

We have begun our journey to Oregon. It has been approximately two or three weeks since our departure. We managed to safely ford our first river, and have gotten meat and supplies along the way. However, it has not been without tragedies. The son of Ronald, a man accompanying us, was killed in a wagon accident. God rest his soul. Aside from this despairing occurrence, our trek seems good. I will record further updates, and I bid you farewell.

Journal Entry 3

Esteemed Journal,

I write to you now, in a time of sadness. We had taken the Burial Grounds Trail, and nothing had gone awry, for a time. The daughter of a man, Clark McMason, died in an accident, and another man, Copen Hagen, was stung by a scorpion. We managed to safely collect water in what seemed an impossible situation, and spirits were high. However, in our arrogance, we decided to ford a river to cross, as opposed to taking the ferry. As we were crossing, the current shook our wagon, and my mother, Tyler Dale, was swept off and carried downstream. We discovered her body a mere minutes later. She had lived to be 79 years old, and had seen many things in her life. May God take her and welcome her into His kingdom.


We will continue on. The mountains between our party and Oregon draw near. We hope to cross through the pass quickly so that we may beat the winter blizzards. We are nervous, but we believe that we will make it. I have nothing else to write, so I will bid you farewell.

Journal Entry 4

Esteemed Journal,

I fear my time is runngin out., W e are trapped in the mountains, witht very little food or fire. We shdould not have goen straight for the pass. The otther wagons in our train are not fairing well either,. I do not know if l will be abel to write again, so assume that I have perished if there are further entries. Possibly forever, I bid you farewell..,.