Ask adults of a certain age what they remember most of their elementary school keyboarding class and they’ll likely say something about playing “The Oregon Trail.”
The video game was a staple of the educational entertainment for kids during the 80s and early 90s. Children were tasked with guiding a group of five settlers along the trail from Independence, Mo., to the Willamette Valley in Oregon, facing the hardships settlers endured along the route. Death can be quick and merciless on the trail and losing the party results in a game over screen where players could write a short epitaph on a trailside headstone that other players would find and read while playing the game.
I played it during Paul Oblock’s keyboarding class at Reliance Elementary School. Getting my group of settlers to Oregon was one of my top priorities and my class grade reflected that misguided sentiment.
My many attempts always ended in disaster. Despite always playing as the banker, who had the most money to outfit himself for the long journey, my group of five never made it to Oregon. Sometimes an ill-fated attempt to ford a river resulted in my settlers getting swept away. An unfortunate wagon fire once burned all of the replacement wagon parts and, wouldn’t you know it, the next misfortune resulted in a broken wagon wheel that could not be repaired -- the party ended up dying as winter storms froze them to death. There was always dysentery too, a malady that has become a kind of joke to people who remember playing the game; at least until someone researches what dysentery is and realized the disease is no laughing matter.
After leaving Reliance Elementary, I rarely played or thought of the game. A cousin had an enhanced version of the game on a Windows 95 PC, but I didn’t have too much opportunity to guide settlers to their doom along the trail. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I had even thought of it. I found a handheld version of the game online and decided it was a worthy impulse buy. A few days later, a small box was on my doorstep and inside was a strange amalgamation of an Apple II computer and a Nintendo Game Boy. The handheld, bulky and grey, booted up the game I was familiar with in that keyboarding class years ago.
I started along the trail once again, this time as a farmer, and decided April was the best time to leave, thinking I could avoid the snowstorms I remember encountering late in the game when I left in May or June. The trail wasn’t bad starting off, aside from rainy weather. Early on, a thief stole some clothing and some bullets, but otherwise the party didn’t experience many of the trail’s common trials.
Just past Independence Rock, my luck turned and a fire in the wagon burned my wagon’s replacement parts and spare sets of clothing, leaving my settlers with just the clothes on their back. Shortly after leaving Ft. Bridger, a thief somehow stole 80 pounds of food, forcing me to hunt two deer the next day. Then during the trek to Ft. Boise, three of the five settlers had broken arms. A couple of oxen died too. Things were not looking good.
Food was dangerously low, forcing me to stop traveling every couple of days to hunt. Game animals were becoming scarce, but the Columbia River was within sight. Arriving with 72 pounds of food, penniless, with three people suffering from broken arms and another nursing a snake bite, we were turned away from the Barlow Toll Road and forced to float the wagon down the mighty Columbia.
Navigating the river wasn’t a hard task: avoid rocks in the river and watch for directional signs guiding the wagon. After the third sign, a landing should appear allowing your settlers to end their journey. Unfortunately, I became very eager to end the journey and immediately thought I could bring the wagon to shore after that third sign. This ill advised decision sent a settler and an ox to a watery grave.
Shortly after that mishap, the landing appeared and I was able to bring the remaining settlers to the Willamette Valley. After 23 years, I finally brought a group of people to their destination. Sure, they didn’t have money, food or extra clothing and someone died during the home stretch, but it was a victory all the same. There was a legitimate sense accomplishment.
In the following weeks, I’ve played the game a few more times, trying different ways of playing the game to see if they work out. So far, it’s been a 100 percent failure rate. However, somewhere in the back of my mind, the 11-year-old me is pleased to see the end of the trail, even if he barely passed keyboarding.
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