Independence, Missouri. Beautiful town, situated right between Harsh Dictatorship, MO and Dependence, MO (I wonder if one ever were to ever say something in the realm of "I will meet you in Dependence," would it lead to utter confusion? Ha! Thoughts such as these tickle my funny bone and will no doubt get me through the harsh fordings and river rafting adventures that lie ahead!). This is where myself and my party of fellow manifest destiny-believing compatriots will begin our epic journey across the treacherous Oregon territory. There are several other parties making the trip as well, including a wealthy banker and a proud doctor. I have been recruited by a schoolteacher with little in the way of funds, but rich in spirit and point multipliers. We have purchased three oxen, 300 lbs. of food, some axles, some spare wheels, quite a few boxes of bullets, and yet only a single pair of clothes. Franklin, our leader, claims that this will save money and "doesn't really affect anything anyhow."
May 2nd, 1766
We have begun our trek across this harsh terrain! Moving at a steady pace has kept our health from taking a turn for the worse. Things are looking up already. We are eating hearty rations and just the other day Franklin shot over 1200 lbs. of food! However, we could only lug back 200 lbs. The strange thing? It was all squirrel meat.
May 3rd, 1766
We found some wild berries! What luck!
May 5th, 1766
Our wagon reached the Kansas River Crossing. The water stood at 6 ft. deep and -8 degrees Farenheit. While Cholerita and Syphiliston insisted on caulking the wagon, Franklin giggled too much even at the thought of the word "caulking," so he decided to ford the river. We lost our three oxen, 475 lbs. of food, our single pair of clothing, all but one of our boxes of bullets, and Marvin. We are now left completely naked, Cholerita is pulling the wagon, our wild berries are our only source of sustenance, and Franklin has moved us from a steady pace to a grueling pace (which has taken quite a toll on Cholerita). Bizarrely, Franklin refuses to move us from Hearty Rations to Meager Rations, meaning he's somehow providing us with steak and mashed potato meals three times a day with our 5 lbs. of berries. The food situation is dire, as is the nakedness situation, and the fact that Franklin has taken the bullets for himself and is taking potshots primarily at Cholerita and screaming "DANCE!" Hopefully, conditions will improve.
May 6th, 1766
Conditions have gotten drastically worse. Franklin has decided to rest to ease our spirits, but unfortunately decided to do so for 99 days, which will delay our trip until early Fall, meaning a large portion of the trip will not take place until we are deep into winter. Syphiliston and I have tried to wake Franklin, but he is deep into his hibernation. Also, he shot Cholerita in the leg right before the rest began, so our Grueling Pace will be diminished to Stopped Pace when the rest ends.
August 15th, 1766
Our rest has ended! We were able to stave off starvation by trading all of our wheels to a kindly old Native American for foodstuffs and bullets. Onward to Oregon!
August 16th, 1766
Franklin has decided to rest for another 99 days. He also shot Cholerita in her other leg. My faith in our noble leader is starting to vacillate.
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