Wagon Train, Part 3

 My favorite place in our wagon was the buckboard.  I didn't get there often because we all had to share. It was cool and breezy and surprisingly relaxing.

Here, The Wood Artist and Mr. Blueberry Eyes consult with Uncle Russ on some important matter.

 This little spot made you feel like you were right on the shores of Silver Lake with Laura Ingalls. The breeze blew the tall prairie grass (and it truly came above my waist).

By the time the wagons stopped for the day, we were tired!  Here, Laughing Water rests her feet.

 What wagon train would be complete without a river fording? Granted, ours was not quite the scary adventure that it was for many of the people on the Oregon Trail, but it was a bit of water.

Here we are waiting our turn....

 Just about to go down.  I must say, I was a bit nervous.

I got several more picturess, but they are blurry from the jolting of the wagon wheels.

 One afternoon, we formed the circle early and pitched camp. Shortly after lunch a rain storm came through and we dashed for the dryness of our tents.  The soft rain lulled me to sleep and I slept for three hours. When I awoke, the camp was in full celebration mode.  We played old fashioned games like sack races and tug-of war.

Someone brought all the supplies and showed us how to make rag dolls.  We made home made ice cream and tossed Indian fry bread in a great vat of oil and then rolled them in cinnamon sugar.

 That night we had a trading post and traded little goodies we had made or brought from our home town.  Here, Mr. Blueberry Eyes trades some of his deer antler buttons for a British flag with Mrs. Bridgewater. (Yes, she did come all the way from England for the wagon train.)

People dressed in high prairie finery and a good time was had by all.