Adventures on the Oregon Trail

The struggles we experienced on our return from Salt Lake City to our home in Tacoma, reminded me of those who traveled the Oregon Trail some 150 years ago.

Our struggles weren't as significant or as dramatic as what the early pioneers faced, but there were significant parallels.

Cholera—the primary illness encountered by the pioneers on the Oregon Trail—was constricted from contaminated food or water. It filled the intestines with excess water, leading to diarrhea, dehydration and death.

Admittedly, the stomach flu is not cholera and the morbidity rates are much, much better nowadays. Still, it was a daunting consideration to leave Salt Lake for a nearly 900 mile drive back home. If we were to drive straight through, it would take 12 hours of driving.

The Oregon Trail stretched some nearly 2,000 miles from the "jumping off point" in Independence, Missouri to the Willamette Valley. Our trip from Salt Lake was about half that distance. In the days of the Oregon Trail, the trip would take between 4-1/2 to 5 months with an average daily distance of 15 miles.

Disease

In those days, pioneers encountered diseases such as cholera, diphtheria, dysentery, measles and typhoid fever. All of which were nasty and life threatening diseases for which there were few good treatments. Cholera was treated mostly with laudunum, now understood to be a pure form of opium—which must have had its own effects upon the body and mind.

Even today, cholera remains a pandemic in many parts of the world with recent outbreaks in Mexico, Haiti, Pakistan and Zimbabwe. The best treatment is a familiar regimen of fluids, electrolytes and antibiotics. (I can't tell you how much Gatorade and Powerade we consumed during our bout with the flu but it was a big part of our daily intake.)

Other than dysentery, these diseases have been nearly wiped out in the developed Western world. Dysentery remains a threat as there is no vaccine and recent strains are more resistant to antibiotics.

While we were fighting the flu, none of us were too concerned about the history or prevalence of the disease. I spent the day in bed only gathering up enough energy to take a warm bath (which would have been a luxury in pioneer days). My wife had to help me back to bed. She didn't have it any better when she got sick—passing out in the restroom.

The mortality rate on the Oregon Trail was high. Fortunately, we don't worry about that as much today. With the perspective of traveling that distance being sick a good portion of the way, gives me a lot of empathy and appreciation for the sacrifices of the early pioneers.

Equipment Failure

Wagons, horses, mules and oxen often presented problems on the trail. Wagons would break down. Animals would get sick, injured or too worn out to continue. Naturally, this made it difficult to continue. With belongings taking up the space in the wagons, most of the pioneers traveled the distance on foot. When things broke down, it became a daunting task to continue on the trail.

Even today, traveling through Eastern Oregon, particularly, there are long stretches of road between towns.

There would have been few places to restock on the trail then. It would come down to help from other members of the traveling party.

Having experienced mechanical difficulty on that long drive can be daunting. This time we were close to auto parts stores and gas stations when we had vehicle troubles. But, our nerves were a bit frayed when we realized that the wheel on our van was loose and we were missing a lug nut. We were in the middle of rural Idaho when this occurred. The nearest auto parts store was a good ten miles away. Normally, this wouldn't have been much of a concern, but given the state of the van, the late hour of the day, and trouble it would have caused if the van had completely broken down, we felt fortunate when we pulled into the store's parking lot.

Again in the pioneer days, it would not have been so easy. There are many stories of wagons breaking down. Broken or loose axles and wheels would at best slow the party down considerably.

It isn't much fun to deal with unreliable transportation.

Mountains Between

There is a lot of open road between Salt Lake City and Tacoma. This is especially noticeable in Eastern Oregon where there are long stretches of road with little to no sign of humanity. Recently, I have begun to appreciate this part of the country more than I had.

Stopping at a rest area shortly after passing into Oregon on I-84 there is an interpretative center that speaks of the surrounding Burnt River Valley. The name speaks of how when the pioneers were traveling through the Native Americans would set fire to the valley floor. By the time the pioneers had gotten to this point in their journey, they had already traversed some three quarters of the way to their destination. They must have been tired and worn out.

There were only a few hundred miles before they reached the terminus in Oregon City.

Yet, between them and their destination is a significant mountain range that rises up hundreds of feet to form steep canyon walls. At this point many intrepid pioneers were ready to give up. Getting their wagons over these mountains must have been a real challenge.

They pressed on, though. Ahead of them past these mountains was what some were calling the Garden of the World. They had left much of everything they had behind. They had traveled hundreds of miles, and they had probably seen a fair share of struggle and misfortune. They weren't about to stop before they reached their destination.

Weather

The weather forecast for our trip called for an inch of snow on the road. We traveled most of the way seeing only patches of snow on the ground on either side of the road but nothing on the road itself.

Shortly beyond the Burnt River Valley, though we began to have some snowfall. It wasn't significant but the clouds and mist hung low enough that visibility dropped to about 500 feet. For part of the drive at this point, I could see little more than the tail lights of the car ahead. Traffic slowed down considerably and we held our breath as we drove around precipitous mountain curves.

Eventually, the clouds lifted as we descended to the valley around Pendleton. At this point, the journey evens out and is down to about two hundred miles to Oregon City.

I'm sure many of the pioneers breathed a sigh of relief, as we did, when they were safely down on the valley floor. The final leg of the journey lay ahead. For us we were down to another four hours of driving.

But we knew that we would make it. Illness, problems with the van, and weather issues were largely behind us. All we had before us was to be safe while we battled tiredness. Within a few hours we were safely tucked in our own beds.

Our journey, even with the challenges we encountered, was nothing compared to the journey along the Oregon Trail that the early pioneers completed. However, we had a greater appreciation for the journey they had traveled because we had our own obstacles and challenges along the way.