Lenoir

Parting of the Ways

A day's travel away from South Pass the train circled near a junction known as Parting of the Ways. Here the trail forked, heading towards either Fort Hall or more south westerly towards Fort Bridger and Salt Lake City.

A makeshift post office, no more than notes on top of sticks held up by stones, had sprung up here. Messages to loved ones, directions pointing the way, advice, longing letters searching for the lost. They were almost sacred, and rarely molested.

The men brought their route to a vote again and the debate got heated.

About half of the men argued that the Fort Hall route could save them two and a half days, or over 40 miles between the Big Sandy and Green River. The other half had no interest in the water deprived, sage brush choked, dust trail to Fort Hall. They didn't like tripping over the bodies of fallen horses into prickly plants. They preferred to turn SW to Fort Bridger.

Lenoir was sad when no real agreement was made and the group slowly started taking sides of the trail. She thought Jessica was happy enough when Maggie's family and hers parted ways. But Lenoir was going to miss her motherly friend.

It was clear that the group going to Fort Bridger would slowly dissolve. Members would each, at some point, decide to stop and make a home or living. Some wanted to go to the gold fields of California, and some wanted to go on to the Rogue and Willamette Valleys of Oregon. Clarence believed he would know home when he saw it, but planned to get himself a homestead worth retiring on.

When they finally reached the fort it was with an underwhelming welcome and disappointing view. Fort Bridger's structure was little more than two log cabins connected by a fence to corral horses. The goods found there were picked over and over priced.

Clarence almost thought they would have been better off going through Mormon country, but perhaps the Mormons would have stolen his bride and left him in the desert as naked as he was born.