The Modern Oregon Trail: Investing in a Family Future

In 2006, my husband and I moved back to the Midwest after a whirlwind three years in Seattle.  We loved Washington, but I was homesick for "home" and for family.  Also, we dreamed of owning a home and starting our own family, and the house prices in Seattle were too high for our (very) modest incomes.  So, we packed up our one-bedroom apartment, put our “kids” in the SUV, and drove home. 

I will always remember our cross-country trek like the modern Oregon Trail, in reverse.  The mountains were a bear to cross, and I almost lost a foot to frostbite -- the mountain passes were chilly, even with the heat cranked.  We almost starved because we didn’t bring a stash of food large enough to make it through our eight grueling hours of inter-mountain travel.  We were fighting over the last dried beef stick when we finally outran the blizzard behind us and pulled into a new-fangled general store for provisions of Cheetos and Cokes. 

We finally made it to Montana, and I took over driving the team of horses – er, the SUV.  But our covered wagon, which Mike for some reason christened U-Haul, was unbalanced, and I almost killed us in a cross-wind.  So, Mike drove the rest of the way home after a brief stop to rest in the prairie.  Unfortunately, the chill took one of our children, Parakeet, in that very prairie, and we buried our little blue, feathered boy in the Montana wilderness aptly named "The Seven-Eleven Garbage Can."   

The trip was long, and boredom often overcame our gang.  We whistled and sang tunes, Pa accompanying with his harmonica, Radio, and our three remaining children singing along.  Cat was especially fond of singing, and she entertained us the whole trip, howling her songs through all six states.  The boys, GuineaPiggy One and Two, liked to squeak their accompaniment.  We were very blessed to have the entertainment of our children through our Oregon Trail.

We finally forded the Missouri River and returned home, exhausted, and we rested for days.  However, we still had a homestead to build, so we continued on our journey to land ownership, staking our claim in the rolling, whitened hills of farmland the locals called Iowa.  Fortunately, another family had built a homestead and left it vacant.  So, all we had to do was move in, hang some curtains, and make it a home.     

The venture we made in the grueling 20-hour trip home became an investment in ourselves, our family, and our futures.  This was the right choice for us financially and emotionally. We have loved every minute of our new lives, surrounded by family, finally owning our own home, and looking forward to our future, fully invested in the returns of love.

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