National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center

Jill's Journal: When we left on this journey, visiting significant historic sites like Plymouth Rock were top on our list as important educational lessons for the girls. Never once did the Oregon Trail cross our minds, but after our visit to the National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center near Baker City, Oregon, yesterday, I would say it made at least as big of an impact on the girls (and on us) as Plymouth Rock did last year. Maybe bigger.

“Located on a well-preserved segment of the Oregon Trail in northeast Oregon, its setting is the great sagebrush steppe between the Rocky Mountains and Cascade Range. Pioneers reached this point 1,600 miles into their journey. Following weeks of sagebrush and monotony, they caught their first glimpse of the Blue Mountains, the lush Baker Valley, and the promise of a new life in Oregon.” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

Just steps out of the car on the 500-acre site was a real wagon dating from the 1880s and the period of Eastern Oregon settlement. These things didn’t have shock absorbers and were constantly breaking. It was not uncommon for pioneers to resort to cutting up their prized kitchen table or any other furniture they’d fit inside to make a new wheel.

Replicas nearby showed how space inside was at a premium. Unless someone was very ill, it was unusual for anyone to ride inside (even the drivers walked alongside). The space was needed for all of a family’s worldly possessions, plus enough food (dry goods) to last the six month journey on the Oregon Trail.

Let’s back up for a moment…

“At one time or another, four different countries claimed the great Pacific Northwest: Spain, Russia, Great Britain, and the United States. By 1825 (just 42 years after the end of the Revolutionary War), only Great Britain and the U.S. remained in the contest. They each based their claims on the ‘right of discovery.’ ‘The Oregon Question,’ a hot political issue, revolved around ownership.

“America insisted Oregon was hers after Captain Robert Gray’s ‘discovery’ of the Columbia River (1792), Lewis and Clark’s explorations (1804-06), and the labors of John Jacob Astor’s Pacific Fur Company at Astoria. Great Britain pointed to the explorations of Captain George Vancouver, the investments of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and the presence of her citizens.

“The conflict of claims almost pitched the nations into war. The northern U.S. boundary served as part of a slogan for President James K. Polk’s campaign in 1844: ’54 40 or Fight!’ Within two years he had secured the Oregon Treaty and the U.S. gained the empire of the Columbia – the vast Oregon Territory.” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

Even before the Oregon Treaty, emigrants started pouring into the land that would become the state of Oregon. Who were they?

“They came from Missouri and Virginia, from Maine, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey; solid Germans from Bavaria and Hanover; land-loving sons of the middle border from Iowa and Illinois; Irishmen, always looking for adventure, workmen from crowded cities and labor camps; Danes, Swedes, Canadians, Englishmen, those perennial settlers…” –Giles French, The Golden Land

“Oregon was new, mysterious, alluring, magical. Letters, sermons, editorials, and government documents all made the case. The emigrants sold out, packed up, and headed for the head of the trail.” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

“The Oregon Trail lay like a slender strand of rope winding its way across the continent. The prospect of traveling its length was daunting: 1,924 miles of wilderness journey, 150 to 180 days on the trail – if lucky.” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

“Between 1812 and 1842, each season saw only a trickle of travelers on the Oregon Trail. With the start of large scale migration (in 1843), the Trail was seldom a lonely place. Each summer thousands juggled for a place on the route, competing for campsites and grazing areas.

"There was no accurate count of all the emigrants… People started at various locations and ended at various locations. Babies were born and people died along the way. Wagon trains formed, split up, regrouped, and many people turned back east and went home. Modern day historians estimated somewhere between 200,000 and 500,000 travelers used the overland trails…” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

“No one had ever seen anything quite like it before... “They brought their institutions, ideas, talents, and energies to a land already long occupied. They displaced the Indians and wrested a new territory and several states from what they perceived as wilderness. Despite some tragic consequences, the story of the Oregon Trail is an epic of human endurance, and reminds us of those who came as empire builders.” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

It was not an easy journey.

“Death stalked the trail. Teams ran away and spilled children beneath grinding wheels. Guns misfired and blasted into arms and legs. Young men drowned; wagons overturned and crushed the women riding in them. Then there was the dreaded cholera. At morning all was fine. In the afternoon people complained of not feeling well. By dusk they were dead.

“Smallpox, mountain fever, and gut-wrenching dysentery plagued the travelers. Murder, suicide, or conflict with Indians were rarer causes of death, but they too made their marks. By the mid-1850s the Oregon Trail was one great cemetery stretching 2,000 miles across the continent. Add grief to the list of hardships the emigrants had to face.” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

“After months of travel, you’ve learned the odds: nearly one out of every 10 dead, a grave every 80 yards. But numbers can’t describe a child’s death under the wagon wheels, a mother’s sudden end from disease, or a friend’s fatal gunshot accident...” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

Knowing the risks, the courageous pioneers set forth anyway. Their first major hurdle was getting to the trailhead in Missouri from wherever in the country they were located. And then…

“Emigrants struggled to determine the best departure time. The wagon trains had to wait until the prairie had firmed up after the winter snows and spring rains. But they had to get underway before the summer sun scorched the grasses. Late April and early May proved to be the best time to start.

“The trail crossed the Plains, Rockies, Snake Plateau, Blue Mountains, and followed the Columbia River – all Indian country. The dreaded Columbia Gorge or arduous transit of the Cascade Mountains presented a final test. Despite the monumental risks, the emigrants looked it over and thought themselves able to face the length and breadth of the land.” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

“By July and August…the country (they passed through appeared) burnt to death... When the emigrants managed to find water, they often discovered that 'many cattle [had] taken up their everlasting abodes in it.' Livestock laid down and died from poisonous weeds and water, rattlesnake bites, scorpion stings, and diseases carried by ticks.

“The bloated and stinking bodies were, as Esther McMillan Hanna described it, 'so numerous that we can scarcely get a pure breath of air anywhere!'” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

“I do not think I shall ever forget the sight of so many dead animals seen along the trail. It is like something out of Dante’s Inferno, this barren waste of lava peopled with the skeletons of animals.” –Esther McMillan Hanna, August 6, 1852

It wasn’t just the animals lost during the Trail.

“Pioneer accounts note land alongside the trail was heavily grazed and in places littered with broken wagon parts, dead animals, and castaway possessions.

“…The travelers had to throw away all but the bare essentials. (A man named) Handsaker had this experience: ‘…We left one of our wagons, two boxes of valuable books, trunks, chairs, etc. worth at least $300. This is sad destruction, but it cannot be avoided.’” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

An interesting note is that oxen were usually the beast of choice to pull settlers’ wagons. They were slow, but they were gentle and steady and could be eaten if pioneers were starving. Horses were fast and willing to work themselves to death, but with sensitive digestive systems and as a prime target for thieves, they were more of a liability. Mules were fast like horses and resilient like oxen, but they were stubborn and damaged many a wagon by either kicking or running away.

As a cloven hoofed animal, oxen feet quickly wore to the quick on the Oregon Trail. Owners shod them with shoes like this one found on the Trail or with buffalo hide or leather in a pinch.

A personal journal from an 1863 crossing.

“For those who risked all – life, limb, health, and wealth – the banks of the Willamette symbolized the completion of a dream. They had not truly arrived at the end of the trail; they still had lands to claim and homes to build…

“What did it all mean? It was the greatest mass migration in North American history. The pioneers crossed nearly 2,000 miles of wilderness to chart a new destiny on the Pacific Slope. The experience marked their lives forever. Their journey became a badge they wore until death…” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

After our time in the Interpretive Center and really getting a glimpse into the courage and hardship these people faced, it was time to head outside and hike down to the actual ruts made by the Trail when it passed through here.

“In 1843, emigrants sent a wagon and team ahead to break down the sagebrush on Virtue Flat. Over time the dusty earth on the flat gained the distinct imprint of several sets of parallel ruts, the traces of thousands of wagon wheels and animal hooves carrying the goods of the pioneers to the Pacific Northwest. Oregon Trail ruts resemble a swale of slightly packed earth, rather than the more familiar set of parallel tracks typically made by automobiles.” –U.S. Department of the Interior literature

It was an extremely hot day, but we were determined to make the trek. There’s four miles of trails leading to the Oregon Trail and back, all down and then back up a nearly 400-foot “mountain” called Flagstaff Hill (where the Interpretive Center is located). There's a flat spot to the left in the picture above; that's where we were headed.

It is said the landscape is virtually unchanged since the days of the Oregon Trail. Sagebrush populates the land now, just as did then.

We came across this lone tree, a welcome respite from the sagebrush surroundings. How the pioneers must have celebrated when they reached landmarks, each urging them closer to their destination.

And finally we made it to the lasting impressions made by the Oregon Trail. In spite of kids miserable from hiking in the heat, it was so moving to be there, surrounded by the heightened quiet of the desert, in the footsteps of those brave, hardy souls.

The girls took a few steps of their own on the actual trail. Rob and I both said later that we wondered while we were there if we would have been courageous enough to take the Oregon Trail if we’d lived during that time. We like adventure, but these people risked their children’s lives.

That’s Rob in the red shirt at the wheel ruts. I’d stepped back to help settle a skirmish between sisters and it dawned on me that you wouldn’t even know the Trail was there unless you were actually on it. It’s hidden so well in the sagebrush and growth, which makes it all the more amazing it can still be found all these years later.

And then we had to head back up Flagstaff Hill in the blazing sunshine and oppressive heat, back to our vehicle. That tiny, little building is actually the very large Interpretive Center. Everyone was so thirsty we ran out of water long before we hit the top. But our girls were amazing troopers and it gave them a smidgeon of appreciation – better than anything else could have – of what the travelers on the Oregon Trail went through.

“I feel like we’re like pioneers on the Oregon Trail,” said Madelyn. “This is awful. Let’s never do this again. Oh, those poor people.”

Here we are at the end of the hike, taking a break. We’re only getting smiles and thumbs up signs because we were done!

A 13-mile section of the Oregon Trail route can be clearly seen from atop Flagstaff Hill. Look at the black line on this placard…

…and then compare it to this scene. Pretty awesome. Of course, it worked better with the naked eye than in a photo!

After rehydrating, we stopped at the Oregon Trail Monument on the way back toward Baker City. It didn’t compare to actually having been on the Trail itself. We’re so glad we made that hike.

We had promised the girls if they behaved well for the long day, we would stop on the 90+ mile drive home (to Pendleton) at the Union County Fair in La Grande (which we could see from the road on our drive down). They were so excited and weren't about to let us forget it.

It was the tiniest, cheesiest, least-satisfying fair you can imagine, but Madelyn held her own against the boys in a giant hamster wheel of sorts. In the dainty little dress she insisted on wearing this day, she was the last one to wipe out!