Imprints

The width apart of wheels,
Across the alkali...it showed.
Furrows made by years of use,
That once had been...a road.

Scars made in the earth,
By caravans on the move.
Any by that constant power,
Pressed deeper...by a groove.

That traced their way,
And proved a manual test.
Widening up the great frontier,
And conquering the west.

A waste-land was their lot,
And a journey had them bound.
As great herds made a wild stampede,
And Indians circled round.

Today...that road remains,
The caravans are gone.
Off in the murky-mist...of time,
The wagons have passed on.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

Note: These are the literal wagon tracks my Grandmother would have seen in approximately 1915. At that time they would have been there from earlier than 1850 (recorded in diaries) so 65 years prior. This picture was taken today (6-19-10) and you can still see the remains of the wagon wheels. So, 160 years ago.

For history buffs; This is the Henley Salt Lake Cutoff - Park Valley Road (in Idaho near the border with Utah)

"Started and traveled till eleven o'clock again, passing Pilot Springs, and some that were encamped there. Came to a wagon. I rode out and enquired for grass. We could see the lights of the campers far up on the mountain sides (Emigrant Springs). ...we reached them at length..."

William Quesenbury, July 19, 1850.