Birdie's Journal

Oregon Trial

"Well, that should be the last of it." Max says handing the last of the fabric wrapped bundles to his wife.

Birdie nods her head as she steps into the back of their new acquired covered wagon. She looks around at their meager possessions and sets the bundle in the open space. She steps over everything and climbs down the back and over to her husband. He takes her in his arms, and they look at their tiny house.

"It will be okay, there will be better opportunities out west for us. I can get a better job." He says kissing her on the side of the head.

She nods her head. They turn around and Max helps Birdie up into the wagon first, then he climbs up. They settle themselves on the hard bench and Max picks up the reigns, he clicks his tongue at the two the oxen and they lurch forward.

They ride down the dirt road towards the end of town where they meet up with other families that were persuaded to leave their small little town in Central Missouri and head west into the unknown and to a place they only know as Oregon. This is their journey, as written by Birdie.

April 1, 1843

It was a cool morning in April when we left. We were told to pack the bare minimum, and what we couldn't take we needed to sell and buy just the necessities for the long almost 2,000-mile trail.

Not really knowing what we were going to be experiencing on this trail, but the promise that life would be easier in the west.

We got outside of town and onto the road and headed towards Independence Missouri, there we met up with other people who agreed to take on the long trek. We rode in silence their nerves on end.

We get about halfway to Independence and we meet up with 2 more families. We greeted each other, and exchange pleasantries then we fell into line and made the rest of the trip to the city.

Once there we meet up with the rest of the people, plus we got to meet our guides and then took inventory of everything that all 120 wagons had brought with them.

Once everything was set, we got all settled in and set out of the city and headed into the unknown.

All we knew is that we were needing to head for Fort Kerney, the first trading post in our long journey.

We traveled the many miles that were needed to get to the trading post, putting fifteen miles a day behind us.

We finally made it the Fort where we traded for what we needed for and were able to repair the holes in the canvases and in the sides of our wagons. There the sick were treated if possible and got new oxen and mules to help pull the loads. We camped outside the fort, and in the morning, we headed out.

This time we were heading for Fort Laramine. This would be a long trek, 600 miles that traced the banks of the Platte River. The way was tough, Thunderstorms, or very hot during the day, and freezing cold temps during the night. Each causing their own difficulty during travel.

Many diseases hit our band of travelers. Many of the deceased were buried along the side of the trail. Given a quick burial, we had to keep on schedule. We reached our next stop and did the same thing over again.

We traveled and traveled, and we hit many difficult situations.

War parties from unwelcoming Native Americans, broken wheels and axles.

When we finally made it to the halfway mark on our journey, we celebrated, but we also knew from this point onward it was going to be tough, deep rivers mountains and cold temperatures.

One such danger was trying to cross rivers.

We had to take apart our wagons and float them across the rivers, along with all our supplies and all the livestock, plus the families.

Some of the rivers had strong currents that the weak could not make it across so the river claimed many. As we crossed the different rivers we came up with better strategies for crossing and for catching the ones that got caught in the current. The livestock was just something that could not be saved if it was caught in the river. Many were just too heavy so if we tried to save some of the oxen, someone would either be pulled in or the ropes would break. Once we got across the rivers, we began the task of rebuilding the wagons, hoping that none of the pieces went missing.

After everything that we went through we finally made it to Fort Hall. There we were able to resupply our wagon train.

Once we left Fort Hall we all knew that we were in the last leg of our journey. This time we had the Snake River and the Blue Mountains to navigate.

Once we made through all of that we made it to a place called The Dalles, and then our final stop was the settlement of Oregon City.

We did it a year later and we are in Oregon City, Things were better for us. My husband was able to get a job as a lumber jack. We made it out here.