By Steve Brian, July 13, 2018
By Steve Brian, July 13, 2018
The dangers are real and the risks are many. But through perseverance and sheer force of will, I made it to the end. I was wiser, forged by the fires of adversity, and maybe even a little wistful for a simpler time – a time before the typhoid, the snakebites, the broken legs, the members we lost along the way. Life along the Trail is hard and the path is littered with the consequences of your choices.
No deeper existential question exists. But what to choose? The banker with his heaps of money guaranteed to smooth out the bumps of the journey? Or the poor farmer whose family’s very survival is dependent upon his hunting skills, but reaps the rewards of higher points if he reaches the end. Best to find the balance and choose the carpenter. And so the arduous journey begins. But it’s not all dysentery and the hazards of the wilderness – there is also great beauty to be found.
The way is long and the path is not always clear. And you really never know what lies around the next bend or how deep that river runs. Or even what’s in store for you at the end of your journey. Either pioneers in spirit or by birth, our collective history includes a desire for a new life and the Trail we took to get there. And for some of us – hours spent reliving this 8-bit version of history.
(If you want the real history, you should definitely visit the End of the Oregon Trail Interpretive & Visitor Information Center in Oregon City – it’s so close! No one will get cholera on the way.)