Across the present day Union Pass and down into the Green River Valley

Just north of Jackson, WY

Mother's Day is coming up. May I be so humble as to suggest a book about a marvelous mother? Madame Dorion: Her Journey to the Oregon Country by yours truly, seems to fit the bill. Available at your local bookstore or through Amazon.com (you may have to as your bookseller to order it for you).

"The author brings a little known character to life and makes us think of a time before modern conveniences, and a time when women made tough choices and survival was an everyday challenge. I commend the author for her story. Hopefully there will be more on the horizon." C&C

Buffalo and Antelope (lighter 'dots' in upper part of photo)

By the16th of September 1811, they had reached more or less present-day Dubois, Wyoming (pronounced, incidentally, Do Boys by the locals), and climbed the currently named Union Pass. Unfortunately, when we were there, it had been raining a great deal for several days, and the pass, being dirt and gravel, was un-drivable. We were strongly advised against taking it, and though I am of an adventuresome spirit, at least some of the time, I also decided that was not the place to be stuck overnight on an unplanned-for camping trip. Discretion oft times being the better part of valor, we headed on to Jackson's Hole. And it is a hole. If you've never been there, it is a little valley surrounded by very steep mountains. But, Jackson liked it, it was also full of beaver and other good animals. And now the very wealthy like it, too. It is still filled with animals, just not the fur-bearing kind;-)

Dinner time

When Marie & Co., crossed the pass, they would have dropped down into what is now known as the Green River Valley. At that time, the river was called the Spanish River, or the Seeds-Kee-Dee Agie, or Prairie Chicken River, by the Shoshone.

They came to a large, broad valley, full of buffalo and antelope, streams and beaver. Marie had this to say.

The Snake River before Jackson's Hole

Grand Tetons

Grand Tetons with Storm Front

"16 September 1811.  We climbed a high pass, but can see nothing as we have been in a cloud since we began. It is cold and wet, and the trail is muddy and slippery. Messr. Hunt assures us there is a valley below, and that the Grand Teton Mountains are only about 100 miles away. Once across them, all waters flow to the Mighty Columbia.

            "O! I think we must be almost there. I will be in Fort Astoria when the baby is born. I am not the only one who is happy; the men have declared a feast and a dance this night."

They stayed in the valley until the 25th September, gathering meat, pelts, and supplies. The nights and days were getting colder, it surely rained often, but they were, more or less used to it. They must have been excited, too, knowing they had only to cross the Teton Pass, and then they would be on the Snake River, which they were sure would be like the rivers they were used to, and soon have canoes and be down the Snake to the Columbia and Fort Astoria in a matter of days, at most a few weeks.

We were a bit further north than the Hunt Party would have seen, but the scenery would have been close to the same. The buffalo were plentiful where we were, as were the antelope. If you look closely at the photos of the buffalo, you may see the antelope playing in the background. They are the light colored dots. I stood on the highway to take these pictures with my little telephoto. There must have been 50 or so of us who crossed the road to take pictures, and we must have been a good 100 feet or more away from the nearest buffalo, still, the Rangers drove by and made us all cross to the far side of the road. I don't know why they thought that would make us safer, but they were pretty adamant, wore badges, carried weapons and ticket books, and along came that discretion bit again. They were kind enough; however, to wait until most of us had finished taking pictures before running us off. (Buffalo are extremely territorial, and are wild, and one should not get too close to them. They have been known to charge, gore, and toss tourists who were in what they considered their territory.)

White Flower

Purple Flower

We were in Jackson's Hole on a 'non-special' time (no big shindigs going on) and still had a hard time finding a room. The first place we stopped was not only full, but the desk clerk got on the phone and tracked a nice room down for us. One of the few vacancies in town. We stayed at an older motel, The Virginian, but the room was nice and clean. And the bar was not only well stocked, but the music was low enough no one had to yell to carry on a conversation ;-)

Red Flower (seeds?)

Because the Expedition crossed the Teton Pass (at the southern end of the Tetons), they would not have seen the mountains as shown here (just North of Jackson). Even so, what they saw must have been intimidating and wondrous, and beautiful, though as cold as they were, and as tired as they were, I doubt they saw much of the beauty, instead I'm guessing they saw an obstacle to get over, through, and beyond.

Yellow Flower

The flowers must have been even brighter and more colorful for them than they were for us. As you can tell by the captions, I was a botany major—not!

Close Up of Yellow Flower

A joyous heart makes even the most onerous work go faster. It is, perhaps, a good thing they did not have Google Maps to show them how mistaken they were in their reckoning. Then, again, had they had Google Maps, they may have taken a somewhat better route. What do you think? Were they better off exploring unknown (to them) territory? Happy in their ignorance, so to speak? Personally, I'm glad I had an all-wheel drive car, and (mostly) paved highways and byways. ;-) Oh, and motels with hot and cold running water!

Next week: The Mad River

Over the Powder River Pass and beyond

Over the Powder River Pass and onward to the Bighorn / Wind River

There is a reason it's called a 'Big Sky"

Before we start, we really do need a friendly word from our sponsor, Madame Dorion: Her Journey to the Oregon Country. It is, after all, the sponsor who pays our bills;-). That is, when you, devoted fans buy the book and spread the word. And, believe me, we have bills.

 Coming over the Pass. Of course, there were no fences then.

"Authors who write historical fiction, and do it well, must remain true to the essential facts of their subject, while simultaneously conveying a sense of the undocumented character of the protagonists. Lenora Rain-Lee Good has managed this admirably in her book about Marie Dorion, a Native American, who like the better-known, Sacagawea, helped to guide the white man's exploration of the West. Rain-Lee Good's meticulous research -- she retraced a good part of Dorion's travels -- and innovated approach to conveying her story, as entries in Dorion's diary -- make for a revealing portrait of a most remarkable and important character in America’s early history. The book might have been improved by inclusion of a map tracing the Wilson Price Hunt expedition that Dorion accompanied, but details on the Hunt expedition are easily found via a Google search. The book is highly recommended for those who enjoy historical fiction, especially about the exploration of the Northwest." –RB

Truly, a whole lot of wide open space

Wind River Hot Springs at Thermopolis, Wyoming

And, may I remind you, Mother's Day is coming, and a wonderful gift would be my book about a wonderful and devoted mother, Madame Dorion. Your local bookstore will be happy to order it for you, if they don't already have it in stock. If you don't have a favorite bookstore, may I suggest Barnes & Noble—they are supporting me by having a signing at our local store on 7 June. Now, back to our regular blogramming.

The Bighorn/Wind River

Modern day highway #16 roughly follows the trail the Astorians took through the Bighorn Mountains between Buffalo and Worland, Wyoming.* In the mountains they found trees, shade, and somewhat cooler weather. By the 7th of September 1811 they were back on the plains with game and water both scarce.

They met several Shoshone and Flatheads, all friendly, who traded with them, traveled with them, for a while at least, and helped when they could. The Astorians followed the Big Horn River as much as possible; however, they did not realize the Big Horn River became the Wind River at the present day site called Marriage of the Rivers.

Heading toward Wind River Pass

"13 September 1811.  Crossed the Wind River.  The mountains have closed in and are rugged. The terrain is tortuous to ride or walk. The peaks are high, the winds strong and constant.

The walls of the canyon are almost straight up and a gorgeous red.... There are few trees and little game."

Red Rocks of the Wind River Pass

By the 15th of September, Hunt had ordered the group to leave the river and follow the Indian road. The men did not like that and grumbled. By now, many of the men had lost their faith in Hunt's ability to lead. (He was not a mountain man/trapper but a businessman. He hired guides and often ignored them.)  Marie, by now, didn't care. She was just too tired, and wanted this journey to end!

On the 16th September 1811, they reached modern day Union Pass, where we will pick up our story next week.

Going into the Wind River Pass

*If you Google the Wilson Price Hunt Expedition, you will see where much of their overland journey, as near as I can figure, seemed to follow what became our highways, byways, and freeways. The reason for that is the local First Nation folk followed the game trails because they were the easiest. Then the trappers followed the First Nation roads because they were there. Then the Immigrants came along with their wagons and cattle and eventually the Highway Departments followed all with their concrete trucks. It would have been nice, however, had Hunt said, in his Journal, "this place is the future site of Buffalo, Wyoming (or wherever) but I guess he just didn't know where we'd plant our towns further down the time line ;-)

Green flowers, red dirt

At Last! The Famed Powder River

Do not, I beg, get eye strain trying to read this, but it is interesting.

First, however, we absitively posolutely must have a word from our sponsor, Madame Dorion: Her Journey to the Oregon Country. It is, after all, the sponsor who pays our bills;-)

There were, of course, no fences when Marie came through.

"Imagine yourself a young woman on a cross-country road trip from St. Louis to Oregon. Okay, you say, that's easy. But now imagine that there are no roads and the trip is made on horseback, in sometimes make-shift boats, and on foot through incredibly rugged unexplored territory, two toddlers in tow (one of which has a "strangeness about him") with a third child on the way. Throw into the mix hostile Indians, unimaginable thirst and hunger, heat and cold, and nothing to sustain you except the will to go on. That was the journey that Marie Dorion took with her husband 200 years ago as the only female on the ill-fated hunting/trapping venture known as the Wilson Price Hunt Expedition. Ms. Good's remarkably well-researched and well-written account of this event expertly weaves in the fiction while ensuring that the actual events remain unbruised by it. The result is a novel that sweeps you along not only on a gripping true story of survival, but also takes you on a spiritual journey into the heart of this amazing and stoic Native American woman. Madame Dorion is, indeed, deserving of a place in history alongside Sacajawea and Pocahontas.

I doubt if there were tulips, either.

"This is an easy, enjoyable read, both entertaining and educational; whether you are a history buff or simply enjoy a great adventure, this story is not to be missed." – JA

Before we return to our regularly scheduled Blogram, may I remind you that Mother's Day is coming, and Madame Dorion would be a wonderful gift for that favorite mother of yours. (If nothing else, it will remind her that she didn't have it so rough when she raised you ;-)

The locals claim the Powder River is not only a mile wide and an inch deep, but it is also too thick to drink, and too thin to plow. As the photos below will show, they're pretty right on!

Probably close to what it looked like, if you take away
the fences and trash trees.

The river today looks somewhat different than it did 200 years ago. Back then, if there were any trees, they were probably cottonwoods that lined the shore. Today, there are two invasive species of trees, one being the Russian Olive, which is a water hog, and should, at all cost, be eliminated. The olives, though edible, just aren't worth the cost in water. And I can't remember what the other tree is, but both were introduced about 100 years ago.

Looking West from the Powder River rest stop

31 August 1811. The party has passed through the barren hills, crossed tributaries of the Powder, and have finally reached the main branch. They suffered days of thirst, and the loss of one dog due to thirst (the dog died two hours before they came to water).

Marie and the boys found buffalo berries (choke cherries) and gooseberries along the rivers edge which gave them a little variety in their meal that night.

Thunder storms rolled across the prairie, and down the river. The group camped on the highest ground they could find.

Walking along the bank of the Powder River

The next day a group of Crow came, and Hunt managed to trade his horses for 121 well-fed and mountain-trained ones. They were about to cross mountains, and trained horses would be a help. Many of the men were weak and tired, and the company moved too slowly for the Crow to accompany them as they continued west into the Big Horn Mountains and Powder River Pass.

As you can see, it's only an inch deep -- if that

Shallow, but a nice reflecting 'pond' for the sky

Cottonwood and Russian olive

Too thin to walk on, too ;-)

Russian Olives.

Next week: Through the pass, across the plains, and arrival at the Wind River.