Torrington to Ft. Laramie

Ben mapped us out the first 17 miles of trail so I went as far as those instructions, waited for the train to pick me up, as we completed the last 10 or 11 miles. My dog journeyed with me today. We all agreed to name him Mitch after the town Mitchell that he came from. He was hesitant to ride in the wagon but with some gentle force, he climbed in.

We had a beautiful ride through private pasture, the grass springing up tall, cottonwood and cedar trees growing abundantly and acres of a variety of wildflowers. It was picturesque, our wagons quietly passing through the serenity of the cool, summer afternoon. I was glad to be sharing the moment with the others, yet I wanted to be the only one moving gently through, allowing whatever creative forces I could receive to inspire and move me, to feel the spirits of the trees and of the grasses and creatures and even perhaps the spirits of those who long ago held a respect for such a beautiful place.

We got into camp at 4 p.m., our longest day so far. We had black clouds all around us and by 7 p.m., we were having thunder and lightning and a tornado watch. It did rain pretty hard for awhile, but never produced a tornado. I would have liked to have had the time to walk the grounds of Ft. Laramie, for the atmosphere is a step back in time and the grounds are beautiful with the green grasses and Laramie River flowing close by.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Ft. Laramie to Guernsey

Last night, I couldn't walk on my left heel, the blisters just keep enlarging each day out. Obviously, I know I wasn't going to be walking today. We came over a dirt road that meandered across some hilly areas, the view quite pretty with mountain ranges, including Laramie Peak off to the north. It's so comforting to me to start to see some mountains again. I feel like I'm getting closer to home everyday. We have heavy cloud coverage today and it keeps raining every so often. Guernsey is a pretty place and I would have enjoyed some hiking in the rocky foothills, investigating some of the historical sites in the area. I was here with family a year ago to see the ruts and Register Cliff, but would have benefited from another look. Register Cliff holds a lot of spirit and energy because of the names carved into the rocks. Those people knew they were never going to be forgotten for the wonder of their adventurous spirits.

I took Mitch out for a run this afternoon. My feet seem to take the running just fine. Kind of strange, I know. When I was cleaning up in the campground shower, two young girls from a blind school in Kansas, who are joining us tomorrow, came in and I couldn't help but feel immensely grateful for the gift I possess of eyesight. However, those two girls were enjoying life with a zeal I don't see with a lot of people who aren't handicapped, including my own whining self. Every once in awhile, I need a reality check like this and then a humbled moment to count my blessings. Eyesight is a treasured gift, although I believe the blind are blessed with enormous courage and an ability to "see" what many of us miss with our eyes wide open.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Guernsey to Glendo

This morning's first eleven miles was perfect walking turf and breathtaking scenery. We followed Wendover Road, which is a country dirt road that follows a ridge, so to speak, rambling through cattle country and various ranches. I could view the Medicine Bow Mountain Range off to the west and Glendo Reservoir to my north. The sky was heavy with clouds, but nonetheless, the morning offered me some time to reflect on my journey to this point and to embrace the changing countryside that is my familiar and beloved homeland. We were on the route of the Oregon Trail and I couldn't help but wonder how inspired and at the same time how uneasy the pioneers felt as they saw mountain peaks rising up before them. To this point, the ground they had covered wasn't anywhere near the challenge that mountain passes would present.

     After having gone the eleven miles, I waited at the Wendover junction for the wagon trail to pick me up. Ben requested that the walkers ride in the wagons for the remainder of the day's trip to Glendo. While there, I had the opportunity to visit with Dorothy Jewett, a retired rancher of the area. Similar to my own grandmother, she has been widowed for 20 years, time long spent without one's companion. People like Dorothy who have lived and worked the land for many years, are my favorite acquaintances. You can see in her eyes and the aging of her face that she has worked hard, gained a vast amount of experience about life, has the best knowledge one can gain - common sense - and has a feeling of peace through her accomplishments. People move so much anymore that no one seems to have roots or ties to the land, no long lasting history to any particular area, and are always searching for the harmony and serenity that Dorothy achieved through living on her ranch for 43 years. The land and weather and foliage and creatures are some of our greatest teachers of life. If one will allow the time to enjoy these abundant and fascinating gifts from God, allowing our hearts to be open to her whisperings, we will gain a feeling of calm, a comforter in our troubled times.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Glendo to Douglas

     My feet are in a declining state again, but I felt I could do the first fourteen miles. The terrain was all pavement, which exacerbates the blisters even more. I was willing to call it a day at that point and when we got to camp, I was quite sore footed. We are staying at the fairgrounds in Douglas.

     With the change in terrain as we work our way into Wyoming comes the desire for me to explore, climb, and immerse myself in the wildness of the mountains and ranges. Of course, it could be fatal for me since I'm no experienced survivalist, but my heart yearns for the oneness with the land and clearer understanding of the nature of life I always receive when I become the student and Mother Earth my teacher. One would almost wonder if I were antisocial and oft times when surrounded by a crowd, I feel my loneliest. The greatest vastness of a mountain range comforts and consoles and encircles me and I feel immortal and distinctive, truly accepted with all my flaws and imperfections. Never have I received so pure a love from a crowd of people, or even a few, excluding my family.

     As much as I'm making this journey in honor of the pioneers, when I pass by places that are uncorrupted and unspoiled by man, who I truly wish to honor and be a part of are the Native Americans. They held a reverence for the land and her creatures and through their nomadic lifestyle, were able to enjoy many varied landscapes. Wherever they were, they were one with the land.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Douglas to Orpha Road

     I'm back in the wagon again, trying to recuperate my heels. Our day was shorter than the last few and I was glad for it. The livestock have worked hard covering a lot of miles lately and I'm sharing their fatigue. We camped out in the country tonight by a gravel pit, surrounded on all four sides by rolling hills  with cattle grazing and antelope roaming about.

     At Glendo, we picked up another teamster, Lloyd Warr from Burley, Idaho, and a porta john driver, Janell Smith from Georgetown, Idaho, both quite and likeable people.

     Last night, a man who was at the fairgrounds to shoe some mules for us, saw me limping around and took me over to this truck to give me "the cure" for my blisters. He pulled out this plastic tub and the contents looked like tar mixed with mule dung. "Oh, boy," I though to myself. I had already opened the blister to drain it, soaked it in Epsom's salts and lavender oil, and had bandaged it, and didn't want to start over again. I also had to take some time to think about that black goo before slathering it on my person.

     Tonight, "Red," as he introduced himself to me, was out to our camp to shoe more mules and asked me if I had used that stuff yet. I was just in the process of soaking my feet and he offered to doctor me up. First, he took out his pocket knife and started whittling away the dead skin over the blister. I told myself to buck up, that passing out or throwing up wasn't an option for a modern day pioneer woman and thus bore the discomfort. Then he took a a big wad of that stuff and placed it over the sore, wrapped it with vet wrap, and even sealed it with a kiss. He told me he likes to work on feet - horses, mules, and I guess lady's feet, too. He had the kindest, gentlest clear blue eyes and I felt certain that his medicine will probably help more than anyone's suggestions to date. Once again, I have met someone who has shown me such kindness and generosity and I wonder how I can return the favor. I hope someone in camp has his name and address so I can let him know how things turned out for me.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Orpha Road to Glenrock

     Red warned me I'd be sore and he was right, but as the day has worn on, I believe that my heel is improving. We didn't have far to come today, probably 12 or 13 miles and I rode with Donny in the wagon. However, I'm starting to get that pent up feeling again, endorphins are screaming to be released. We got into camp by 11:30 a.m. and I felt fidgety and unsettled.

     Bill Speiden and JoAnne Hilson from Virginia and their two pairs of oxen joined us at Ft. Laramie. They haven't been able to travel with us much because the mules travel a faster pace. But we have truly enjoyed their company in camp and are in awe of the size of the oxen and the command Bill and JoAnne have over them. This afternoon, Bill needed to put some shoes on one ox and hammer down the nails on several   others. To shoe an ox requires getting him on the ground on his side with the aid of quite a few people. It was an interesting process and luckily, no one got hurt.

     Kay treated me to a very civilized lunch today at a quaint restaurant called the Paisley Shawl in Glenrock. The food was absolutely delicious but the atmosphere was what we both enjoyed the most. One who lives outside and eats and sleeps outside truly appreciates the luxury of being able to wash up in a real sink, the roof over his/her head, being politely waited on, and having the time to enjoy the food. We basked in the moment and swore we wouldn't tell anyone in camp about our pleasurable experience.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Glenrock to Evansville

     I'm still off my feet but I do think they are healing. We traveled about 25 miles, camping by the river here in Evansville, a small suburb of Casper.

     I miss walking for the time spent gaining physical strength, for the time alone to meditate, and for the daily reminder of the beautiful world we've all been blessed with - who has always remained steady and strong and has willingly shared her resources since her beginnings.

     Several nights ago, I dreamed that this journey was over and I was home. How disappointed I felt that I was no longer so completely subjected to the whim of nature. When I awoke and found myself in the wagon, mummified in my sleeping bag, I was relieved. What conflicts of emotions I encounter each day with one moment pining away for civilization's ease and the next never wanting to completely re-enter 1999. My truest delight is to be on a mountain top by gaining the spectacular view through having spent the day working my way to her peak. I may encounter wildlife, always speaking to them in spirit that I honor and respect them and mean them no harm. I like to put my hands on the bark of a big pine tree and feel the energy and strength it can give me. The air is fragrant with the smell of forest, the forest floor cushioned with years of accumulated pine needles, and ferns growing abundantly everywhere. I become so deeply engrossed in my environment, so free of spirit that I'm almost certain I could soar, and then am completely reluctant to depart my place to resume the life we all face each day.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Layover Evansville

     I can't really call today a bona fide day off because we had to ride wagons to the ground breaking ceremonies for the Casper Trail Center this morning. Then I had to do laundry this afternoon. We were going to have tomorrow off also but we are being filmed this next week for the Casper Trail Center and they wanted us to our next campsite a day earlier. My heels will benefit from the next week's lighter schedule but will my mind and soul last without its beneficial "airing out"?

     Within weeks now, I'll be entering my hometown. How quickly the time is suddenly passing me by. It will feel good to see familiar mountain ranges and green valleys, to see my son and parents and other family members. They have all been such a great support to me and I have strong ties to them all, as well as all my grandparents who have passed away. (And oh, how I wish I had really known them when I could have and that my Grandpa Cochran hadn't been taken from this world when I was only 3), and my ancestors whose presence I feel and glimpse in the corner of my eye whenever I need their strength and love. I hope someday to be able to hear their stories, to know their hearts. I will then be able to fully understand my own heart. I hope they are pleased with me this day as I try to re-live a small part of their time spent here on earth as they sought out their own dreams and answers that long perplexed them. I hope the trail or the trail's end will bring me to a new beginning, a better and more loving acceptance of myself, and the ability to see my life's intent. For all the good people I've met and who have offered their help and encouragement, I hope I can in turn pass on to the next person in need the same charitable kindness shown me.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Evansville to Avenue of Rocks

     Since our layover day was cancelled and I wasn't able to get some errands done, I stayed in Casper, looking for another pair of shoes or boots that might not cause blisters. I found a chukka boot that has some possibilities of working for me but nowhere in town had my size. I will be getting a pair shipped to Riverton, the next closest town. Admittedly, it felt kind of good to be cleaned up and wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

     The wagon train traveled around 24 miles, camped out in the Wyoming prairie. The scenery is awesome, all the hillsides green from the many spring rains.

     We are filming for the next four days between here and Split Rock, with reenactors filtering in this evening. Our three-wagon wagon train and 12 travelers are suddenly being absorbed by a larger group of people. I'll be glad when this week is over. Crowds and I don't mix well. I like people just fine, as long as I can have that ability to escape to a place of quiet.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Traveling with Oxen on the Oregon Trail

June 22, 1999

     We have traveled form Fort Laramie to Avenue of the Rocks, some 20 plus miles west of Casper. Elevation now well over 5,000 feet.

Animals Seen on the Trail so far

     Pronghorn (antelope), mule deer, prairie dogs, pelicans (on the Platte River at Glendo), herons, seagulls (near Casper), Colorado buntings, killdeer, magpies, horny toads, bull snake, rattle snakes, and garter snake.

Submitted by Bill Speiden
"The Virginian"
Copyright 1999

Avenue of Rocks to Willow Springs

     Chuck was dinging his bell this morning around 4:45, but I was already sitting up trying to face the day.

     The morning was beautiful with blue skies and a cool breeze to help get us all enthused for the day's filming. We started around 7:30 and re-shot a scene about four or five times, most of the time spent standing around. What a technical project. Makes me appreciate the efforts spent on movie making.

     By afternoon, the temperature outside was hot, all of us seeking shade if at all possible. I may love the movies but being in them isn't my forte or longing. The sun beat down on me and the Wyoming winds blew earnestly, my face squinting so hard that by this evening, my head was pounding and my sinuses felt as though a vacuum had turned them inside out. And they say that tomorrow is going to be the rough day. For certain, this week will help to make me appreciate settling back into going down the trail. In spite of my grumblings, I suppose this is a unique opportunity to be involved in the making of this film and will someday appreciate that I was there.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Willow Springs to Independence Rock

     I was up and trying to get my wits about me at 4:30 and have been sitting around waiting to go for more than an hour. Hurry up and wait.

     The morning was glorious, with a dusky blue cast in the air to the east, the distant mountain ranges each fading into a paler blue. With this filming going on, it seems like our efforts to get to California have been side-tracked and we're all anxious to return to our routine. Isn't that just like human nature to not like any change?

     We traveled 25 miles today from Willow Springs to Independence Rock. We left this morning at 7 a.m. and got into camp at 7 p.m. tonight, all of us road weary and dust ridden. We traveled on actual Oregon Trail ruts, the film crew taking full advantage of the authenticity of the moment. I was assigned to be a walker and when we were required to get out of the wagons and walk, I got a taste - a very dusty taste - with grit in my eyes as the dust roiled up and about me from the animals and wagons. As we move into the heat of the summer days, I more fully appreciate what an arduous trek the pioneers experienced. The mid-afternoon sun can be so unforgiving as it beats down on me, my fair skin feels as though it's going to fry crisp. At the beginning of my journey, we had cold and wet and windy conditions and now we are quite the opposite and I wonder if the weather could ever be perfect for a human being trying to co-exist within it. Rarely have I seen an optimum day, but I have experienced a few on this journey. Weather has a huge impact on us all but I don't think we're aware of it because of our sheltered, protected lives. Are there days when we aren't even paying enough attention to the weather because we're so busy running crazy in every direction, like ants on an ant hill scurrying frantically about.?

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Independence Rock

     The film crew wanted us up and ready to perform early. Fortunately, we were done by 10 and dismissed for the day. All the extras who came from Casper to be in the film pulled out of camp and we're now back to our original if not illustrious group.

     There was a spirit to be felt there at Independence Rock this morning if one were listening and watching with an open heart. I sensed the presence of pioneers, perhaps those who had so long ago inscribed their names upon the rocks. The wind was blowing with a unique force, the tall, dry grasses making a rustling, rushing sound. As we all stood there, walkers, outriders, and wagons to be photographed, I felt a sense of gratitude from those spirits for our efforts to keep their legacies alive and acknowledged.

     Last night, nine boys in their teens came from Cheyenne to spend a few days with us. They are youth who have made poor choices and are court-ordered into a facility that rehabilitates them. My heart has a soft spot for young people who have struggled so against wrong or harmful influences. Life at its best is a journey filled with seasons of blessed events and sorrowful letdowns, rather similar to a roller coaster ride. The best possible choices we can make with out lives doesn't guarantee a smooth ride, but we have a far greater chance of realize our potential and seeing the worth of our own soul when we decide we are valuable and hold a duty to our Higher Power to search and discover the path He has marked for us. We are all so inherently blessed with distinct qualities of goodness if we will not lose that virtuous trait given us by our God. I especially see the glint of that characteristic in young people, for they have not yet lost all hope and faith.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Independence Rock to Jackson Lake Campground

     We were to be at Martin's Cove this morning at 10. I walked out of camp and made it to the Visitor's Center, some 5.5 miles. We filmed at Devil's Gate for awhile and were finished by noon. The wagon train departed for our campsite another 5 or 6 miles down the road. I decided while I was that close to hike up to Martin's Cove and see the fateful place that took so many Mormon lives many years ago when they were stranded by an early winter storm. There's a solemn spirit when you reach the campsite and the area where their dead were buried in the snow. One can not fathom the torment of cold and hunger and despair they endured. I could only show my reverence to them by observing the cover with a quietness and admiration for the faith those people held for their God.

     This evening, I had a wonderful opportunity at supper time to sit at a table where four young men from Cheyenne, who are in rehab, were dining. I started visiting with them and sharing some encouraging words of making a future from the dreams they all hold in their hearts. Pretty soon it seemed that all nine boys or close to it were gathered around and talking about their individual goals. I take no credit for the gathering - rather I think the energy of their hopes and struggles drew them there only because I offered a listening ear. The spark of hope in their eyes and in their speech aroused emotions of tenderness in me. I wanted to envelope each of them in an embrace of compassion and tell them all how special they are and to carry in their hearts always the desire to be their best, to see their finest virtues, and to love and respects themselves, both body and soul.

Letter in a Bottle

Chris Cochran Thomas

Saturday, June 26, 1999

     Did 12 miles today with the oxen. Traveled with several teenagers who belonged to a group which work with troubled kids. Six of the nine of them rode the oxen and one entertained us after midday by picking up and displaying a 20 foot diamondback rattlesnake.

     We reached camp at 3:30 p.m., which gave us a chance to set up camp and relax before supper.

     After three days of a filming crew doing a documentary, it is a pleasure to get back to normal camp life.

     Our last campsite was at Independence Rock by the Sweetwater River. Rock climbing on the rock and swimming in the swift river were challenges for the hardy.

Submitted by Bill Speiden
"The Virginian"
Copyright 1999

Sunday, June 27, 1999
    
     From near Martin's Cove (site of a dramatic Mormon handcart train rescue after being hit by an early blizzard in Oct. 1857). We traveled 15 miles, all on the Oregon Trail to just past Split Rock, the next major landmark after Independence Rock and Devil's Gate.

     The Pony Express came by this same route in its short existence from April 1860-1861, total 18 months.

     We saw our first view of snow capped Rockies this afternoon, the Wind River Mountains in central Wyoming. The vista of those snow covered peaks in late June must have inspired the pioneers to get on with their trip so as to not get caught in the mountains when the snow starts flying in early September.

     We took a wrong turn today and went through a ravine. The wagon master said was not safe for wagons, somehow we made it without casualties and the oxen got a midday drink out of it!
     No rattle snakes today seen, a few horny toads, lizards, and a prairie dog.

     The afternoon winds are consistently warm and hard. Our period tent has no built-in floor so the sand tends to give our sleeping bags the desert look. We place our duffel bags and ground cloth up against the windward side, but the sand still penetrates in winds difficult to stand up against.

     The terrain is sand hills, surrounded by mountains. Sage brush, prickly pear cactus and some prairie grasses are the predominant partial land cover. No trees. No wonder those emigrants (pioneers) who were used to trees dubbed this the "Great American Desert."

Submitted by Bill Speiden
"The Virginian"
Copyright 1999

Split Rock to Jeffrey City

     I walked out of camp at 6:15 and was to Jeffrey City by 10:30, covering 14 miles. It was quite chilly this morning so moving along at a quickened pace helped keep me warm. I saw my first bluebird today since leaving Idaho, which is our state bird, and now I'm really getting anxious for home.

     I felt really good today emotionally and spiritually, as if the clouds had lifted and I was given new insight. I feel confident, independent and strong. No matter what happens to me, I know I have myself to successfully face challenges, reach new heights, and seek after my own dreams. I don't have to rely on someone else for my happiness or approval. I do possess good qualities and have discovered that I have a great deal of will and strength, both physically and mentally. When a person makes that realization, it's as if a heavy burden has been dropped from your person as you continue to walk down the trail of your life.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Sweetwater Station to Silver Creek Reservoir

     Alma and I walked the 16 miles to our campsite, actually keeping ahead of the wagons all the way in.  We are a good walking pair, even though her stride is shorter than mine.  She could keep on going just like the energizer bunny. She inspires me and lends me a lot of strength.

     The countryside has been beautiful. I've managed for the past three days to get into Riverton twice and Lander and have been able to see the snow-capped Wind River Mountain range, as well as the diversified red rock buttes and desert sands.   I really like this area and could fit in "lovely", as Alma would say, living here.

     We had strong winds today and camp was on a ridge so it wasn't very pleasant.  Kay and I went to Riverton to do our laundry and have a shower.   Kay's vehicle had a flat tire on the way, her second in two days, but we managed to fix it ourselves, making us both feel capable and independent of the male species.

     For some reason, I have been having trouble going to sleep at night, my mind not willing to quiet down and allow my body to rest. My neck has been hurting me and I wonder if I have an infection or something in my sinus, ear, and neck.   We all could use a day off, since we haven't had a layover since Torrington.   I think that's why it seems we are passing through Wyoming in such quick time.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Silver Creek to Rock Creek

     Alma and I have become quite a duo and she especially helps buffer the exhausting winds, dust and endless miles with her cheerful stories of her life in England.  I've traveled alone for a time, gaining quite a bit of introspection. However, I was beginning to feel the thoughts in my head were going to drive me a wee bit mad, everyday ruminating over the same trying troubles.  Then Alma came along, her zest for life radiating from her small frame, and the wisdom and knowledge about the human spirit she has taught me in the short time we have been together.  I feel lighter and happier and more confident in what I want when our days of wagon training are tucked away in our hearts and minds.  Life won't end at that point and the friendships I have created with her and others on the train will continue and buoy me up when I trip and stumble over life's snags.

     Alma has so much genuine love for her fellow man and woman. Her gentle touch and the look in her eyes gives forth to me the realization that I am a woman of quality.  Angels have truly sent her into my pathway to continue to help me to accept myself and in turn put forth love and kindness to the next person in need who may cross my path.  I hope I am a good student these remaining weeks we are together and can be ever attentive to what she shares with me, that I may incorporate her philosophies of happiness into my life.

     After having listened to her all day, every thought in my head is said with an English accent.  One of these days, I'm going to blurt out something with a poor rendition of Alma's lovely accent.  I wonder how much of a hick I sound to her.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Rock Creek to Pacific Springs

     Last night, I moved back into my tent and just as well, for now I'm not beholden to anyone. The wagon was a real luxury since I could leave my belongings there each morning without having to tear a tent down and load up my gear in something. But I knew the Quillins were beginning to want their space back. It was disconcerting to me at the time because of the fierce winds we were having but Jere Krakow, Park Superintendent, let me sleep in his Suburban that night. I called my parents and asked them to come and get me Friday night and we'd go to my sister's house in Rock Springs, taking all my belongings with me so that I could scale down and reorganize. I truly became spoiled with the ease of a wagon for my bedroom.

     Today, Alma and I trudged through roads of sand, passing through South Pass, walking 21 miles. It was a harrowing day, once again head winds pressing against us, the dusty soils scrubbing our faces raw. My right foot, smallest toe was under stress of a wicked blister and my ever angry left heel was blistering again as well. I was drawing strength to keep going from the depths of my soul, unable to even make conversation with Alma the last couple of miles. For awhile, she sand advertisement ditties and danced and pranced around, while I glanced over periodically at her with utter amazement. The winds of the past week have tormented and agonized me to exhaustion. I've had a sharp, throbbing pain in my neck most of the week and I feel like it's viral or bacterial, not a misaligned vertebrae or muscle spasm.

     Mom and Dad came to get me at 4 p.m. and I was so glad to see them after having been away from them since last December. They both look great, as they always do. A daughter couldn't do better.

     When we got to my sister Linda's house that evening, her hot water wasn't working and I found that predicament rather amusing since I had envisioned only hours earlier as dirt and sand was filling up all open crevices of my body, a luxurious, hot, relaxing bath. But my patience was long suffering as I waited for pots of water to heat on the stove and I found myself gravitating to outside, a little uneasy being indoors. However, it didn't take long for me to acclimate to modern conveniences.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Pacific Springs to Parting of the Ways

     The wagon train moved 25 miles today against those same strong winds and I thought about my friends all day, feeling guilty that I wasn't in it with them, especially Alma.

     I enjoyed having the time to be with my family, however. Parents and siblings have given me a lot of strength and love and help me to be prepared to continue this challenging journey.

     I went to the library today to check my e-mail and to put my diary entries on the website.

     The one thing I have been craving since I left home in April is popcorn and a movie, and being sprawled out on the couch, allowing the story line to take me away from my thoughts for a time. The household was a bit chaotic, however, so I finally decided to watch the movie in the mornings and went to bed - in a real bed.

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999

Parting of the Ways Layover

     My sister and her husband and family left early this morning to go out of town so Mom and Dad and I lazed around, did up my laundry and then they took me back to camp. It was kind of hard to come back, yet I was getting anxious to be reunited with the wagon train.

     The one thing I did observe over the weekend was the vast difference my world is now compared to the world my sister is living in. The pressures and stresses of modern life are an unwelcomed fact that I feel far removed from here on the trail, but realize are all too soon coming back to haunt me as September approaches. The middle class families struggle everyday to keep their heads above water with both the husband and wife working as hard as they can, leaving them both exhausted, depressed, discouraged and near drowning. Life for us as humans is fleeting, especially when you think about how long a tree lives. Why are we having to forego the beauty of our lives, the loves, the tenderest of moments, just to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads? Are we thus missing the main purpose of being here and does this lifestyle prevent us from becoming our fullest potential?

Chris Cochran Thomas
Copyright 1999