Summer reading: The Oregon Trail

Among the bag-full of books I took home to read over the Summer was Francis Parkman's The Oregon Trail. Written in 1847, Parkman recounts his day-to-day activities as he takes a six month explore of the West after graduating Harvard. While neither a homesteader, mountain-man, Indian fighter, or buffalo hunter, his experiences living among these remarkable people, as well as the Sioux, river-boaters, soldiers, and n'er-do-wells is a sobering and eye-opening first-hand account.

But it is unrelenting Nature that is the main character in his book. And it was brought home to me that it was the actual geography and terrain of the country that defined the challenge of westward expansion and that is beyond our grasp today. Travel was measured from water to water. Rivers were obstacles, God-sends, guides. Mud, head-high grass, shattered rock, and cactus were daily variables to traverse. And always the punishing prairie sun, the no-holds-barred quaking thunderstorms, and sheer expanse of the unknown were active participants in each day of life.

I think there is much in the book to recommend it as a required high school read. It has so much to say about goal-setting, overcoming adversity, personal frontiers, prejudice, the measure of accomplishment, journal-keeping, let alone American history. I could see this and Two Years Before the Mast as anchoring an exploration of 19th century "passages."