June 8th – Along the Sweetwater River, Wyoming
The weather today has been merciful and fair—clear skies above and a cool breeze carried down the Sweetwater River. We've made fine distance, the oxen eager and the wagon rolling smoothly over firm ground. By afternoon, the great mass of Independence Rock came into view, its rounded back standing tall and resolute on the prairie, a familiar beacon for all weary travelers heading west. We took time to read the etchings of the many who have come before us —proof we came this far, and that we endured.
Not long after, we reached Devil’s Gate, where the river carves a deep path between towering rock walls. The place has an eerie beauty about it—wind whispers through the cleft like voices of the past. We lingered for a spell, resting the animals and taking stock of our supplies. Spirits are high, despite the many hardships of the trail.
Carson, by the grace of God, has avoided the usual ailments—no cholera, no fever, not even a sniffle. But this afternoon he nearly met his end in a most unexpected way. While gathering firewood, he stumbled upon a coiled rattlesnake hiding among the tall grass. By sheer luck (or divine providence), the strike missed him by mere inches. He’s shaken but unharmed, and I’ve never seen a boy move so fast. We gave thanks around the evening fire.
Tomorrow, we break camp at first light and set our sights northward—toward Jackson Hole and, if the trail allows, onward to the steaming wonders of Yellowstone. The mountains ahead loom large, but we are determined to see this journey through.
— Jake and Carson's, Trail...
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