The Joys of an RV

Wagon at Scotts Bluff National Monument

We've been moving along parts of the Oregon, Mormon, and Pony Express Trails. Scotts Bluff, named after a unfortunate fur trapper who died there, was a major landmark on those trails. It marked the end of the monotonous long, dusty trek over the Kansas and Nebraska plains. The emigrants left from a variety of locations along the Missouri river, and merged together like a braided rope along a more or less single trail near present day Omaha. Averaging about 15 miles per day, plagued by cholera, Indians, and broken wagons, the sight of Scott's Bluff, and Chimney Rock, 30 miles east, was a time to rest and rejoice. A blacksmith set up shop near Scoots Bluff, selling provisions and charging outrageous prices. Yet the emigrants had only accomplished 1/3 of their journey to Oregon, California, or Sallt Lake. They still had many arduous miles to travel in the Rocky Mountains. Folks started making these treks in the 1830's. The migration numbers zoomed after gold was discovered in California in 1849. The wagon trains ended when the railroad was up and running in the 1860's.

Trail Markers

Once the settlements were established in the West, it became necessary to communicate with the East. Regular mail was taken by boat to the Isthmus of Panama, across that strip of land, and then by boat to the east coast, taking up to 6 months. The Mormons provided mail service on contract with the government by horse and wagons. In 1860, the Pony Express was established. The Pony Express would handle a 1/2 ounce letter for the equivalend of $85 in today's cash. At this point, we're left with more intriguing stories about the Pony Express than fact, as the records have been lost. Buffalo Bill Cody had great success portraying the Express in his road show. The Pony Express died a debt laden death when the telegraph replaced it after less than 2 years of operation.

And here we are today, travelling some of those same trails at 60 miles per hour, some 80 times faster than the pioneers. We still have all our worldly possessions with us, but we're way less likely to lose them all crossing a stream by having our wagon sink in quicksand. Instead of buying a few provisions at outrageous prices, we swing over to Wal-Mart to pick up our needs. At night, in camp, we have lights, heat, and pictures from all over the world filling our TV screen. We can stray from the Platte River, as we carry our own water. And we don't need to drive our livestock west, we can buy it piecemeal in the grocery store. And the Indians will only get us if we go to the casinos.

Ah, the Joy's of an RV.