THE LONG TRAIL TO OREGON Today, an interstate
freeway follows the old wagon road of 150 years ago, its modern travelers
speeding on their  way along Nebraska's Platte River, climbing oh so gradually up
and over the great Continental Divide at South Pass, Wyoming where the water
behind them flows back to the Atlantic and the waters before them eventually
merge with the Pacific. As in the past, southwestern Wyoming is also the point
where the route divided, I-80 paralleling the old "California Cutoff"
across the terrible deserts of Utah and Nevada where, for thousands of people,
the westward migration tragically ended in terrible deaths from poisoned water
or starvation or the dreaded Cholera. For those heading to the Pacific
Northwest, I-84 follows the main trail, often within feet of still visible,
century-old ruts made by thousands and thousands of wagon wheels turning ever so
slowly but relentlessly into what was then known simply as "The Oregon
Territory". The trail joins the Snake River and follows it through the
present state of Idaho past Fort Hall and on to Fort Boise. From there,
the path leads north and west through the beautiful but formidable Blue
Mountains where wagons had to be winched up the steep cliffs and lowered down
the other side by ropes and pulleys and sheer manpower. From there, it's on to
the mighty Columbia, so near to the pioneers' final destination and yet, for
many, the worst part of the entire trip. With cliffs too steep to climb,
the exhausted settlers could only pay often exorbitant tolls to have their goods
rafted down the violent river or (in later years) climb the Cascade Mountains
over the barely passable Barlow Toll Road, sometimes being caught in the
terrible mountain blizzards just fifty miles from the green valley of the
Willamette near present day Portland. If luck was with them, the early
travelers could make it to the coast in five months! For the less
fortunate, the trip could take up to eight months, leaving Missouri in April and
not reaching the coast until December. Although oxen and mules pulled the
wagons, most of the people literally walked every foot of the way, through
drenching rains, relentless winds, through thunder and lightening and hail and
sleet and blistering sun. And always in the presence of mosquitoes and
snakes and breakdowns and disease and hunger and thirst and fear (although
usually unfounded) of Indian attack. In spite of the hardships, after the
first organized wagon train made the trip in 1843, well over 300,000 people
began the long journey. Spurred on by their dreams: of religious freedom
for the Mormons in Utah, of gold nuggets just for the picking in California, of
a full square mile of free farm land in the Great Northwest. CONTINUED
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