April 22; Shawnee Mission

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You remember how I said that Naime was an optimistic person? Yeah, that got in the way, like every other time she suggests a ridiculous idea.

My plan was to eat breakfast before dawn so that we could make it to the next town without having to set up camp. My parents seemed to think that it would be a difficult hustle, and they weren't sure that they could make it to the next town in one day. We were new to this whole ordeal, after all, and we were technically unfit to hustle too much, but we were also unfit to camp. I wanted to get to town so that we could continue to ask for advice because my cousin, Crispin, barely got any advice about camping when that was what he was supposed to do. Really, am I the only one who does what I need to do? Legit, the only one who did what they had to do at Independence was me and my mother, who was in charge of getting food, and then there was my aunt and uncle getting clothing and directions and all that fun stuff.

Our first night camping was rough, but hey, at least we're alive. Now we know that noon isn't a good time to set up camp (even though I told them that we had to keep going, but Crispin decided to complain about his sore feet).

Anyways, Shawnee Mission is pretty cool, and I chatted with Michael a bit more today. Michael, Naime and I went out and chatted with some locals, and apparently there were some Native Americans (I used to call them Indians, but Michael gave me a reason not to) that were moved to the area. They said that they used to be great at hunting and that kind of stuff, but now they farm and basically lost all those hunting skills.

Michael actually ranted to me about that. He talked about how it wasn't fair that they were forced to move away from their home and lose their culture. He talked about how upset he was when he lost his own family to some sort of sickness that he never learned the name of and how devastated he was when he had to leave. He said that the memories were too strong, and he just had to get away. He said that he never wants to go to his old home ever again.

Why he ranted this to me, I haven't a clue, but I can only imagine. It sounds hard, being dragged away from everything you know of, however it may have happened. It seems like Michael is fine now, but still, it must've been hard.

Anyways, we're heading out again tomorrow, and we're going to be traveling the whole day, so I should be heading to bed so that I won't be sleep deprived the whole trek.

The Oregon Trail: Gerald HylandWhere stories live. Discover now