When I strike the open plains, something happens. I’m home. I breathe differently. That love of great spaces, of rolling open country like the sea, it’s the grand passion of my life.” – Willa Cather, (epigraph to The Oregon Trail: A New American Journey) He writes, that by 2011 “I had become that familiar subspecies of the North American male, the divorced boozehound with a bad driving record and emerging symptoms of low self-esteem. I knew that I had to escape again – this time in a big way.” Crazyass passion is the staple of life and persistence its nourishing force. Without them, you cannot cross the trail.”

I mostly enjoyed the author's account of his journey along the trail, especially the parts about the mules and dog, but the multitude of tangents varied greatly with how interesting they were (or were not). Also could have done without the author's numerous political and societal opinions, which make you question his ability to intelligently research and assimilate other material used for the book.Dogged original research and superb narrative skills come together in this gripping account of pitiless evil. Seeing America slowly was, in a way, like eating slow food-I wasn't covering much ground in a single day, but I was digesting a lot more.” I’m not sure what is the most remarkable part of this wonderful memoir: the novel aspect of the covered wagon trip during the 21st century, or Rinker’s voice, which switches seamlessly from that of historian, to that of family member with family issues, to that of the humorist who can appreciate life’s ironies even in adverse circumstances. All I know is that you don’t want to miss out on this one. What a terrific story! The Oregon Trail is a smorgasbord of a book. It’s a travel book, it’s a history, and it’s a family saga. While telling an incredible tale of the first covered wagon crossing of the entire Oregon Trail in a century, it chronicles the history and importance of the trail as the highway of history’s largest overland migration. Along the way it fills us in on incidental histories — mule breeding, wagon building, etc. The author also relates his family history — his eccentric father who took his family on covered wagon vacations along the East Coast in the late ‘50s, sparking a lifelong interest that culminated in this journey and book.

Didn't die of dysentry, but nearly died of boredom. As someone who, yes, played that 'Oregon Trail' game, I was so looking forward to this book. Man decides he wants to travel along the Oregon Trail? In an actual wagon pulled by mules? Sure, why not? Also interesting content on his family history and the personal dynamics of his relationship with his brother. Nevertheless, they set a record for being the youngest aviators to fly coast-to-coast. Rinker wrote about it in his first book, Flight Passage (1997).From the 1830s to the late 1860s, the Oregon Trail was one of the major routes for anyone wanting to travel west across the United States — and it certainly became the most famous, leading to many books about the Oregon Trail being written. This book starts out slow. Not too slow - it's the build-up process of the Oregon Trail. I usually don't like all this build up stuff. I wanted to get into the meat of the 1840s and 1850s trek to Oregon by covered wagon. But as I read the story all this build up made sense.

I had thought this book would be as enjoyable as A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail, with both authors challenging themselves to complete two very different historical trails along with their similarly crazy and risk-taking cohorts. I am a walker, so I could somewhat empathize with Bill Bryson, and he's at least entertaining. But... No offense, but, MY GOD, I wanted this book to end. And it just wouldn't. It went on and on and on and on. I listened to it on Audible and the reader was just fine. Initially I really liked the book. As minutes turned to hours and hours turned to days, though, I just really started to dislike (intensely) the author. The author is long winded. This needs no explanation. I can't imagine a reading audience wants to hear the same story retold 16 times, e.g. some version of: "they said it couldn't be done.... (add 1 hour of reading to detail the full story of how he achieved the impossible)... and I did it. Man, am I great." And then it gets kind of good! Their lives, including the mules and the dog, are in danger more than once and a genuine camaraderie is formed. This is why I hate to not finish books; sometimes the best is yet to come. There were also some emotional sections of the book as Rinker reflected on his complicated relationship with his father, and memories of a similarly rustic trip his family took when he was a boy.Rinker does an excellent job in his research of the old Oregon Trail and inserts it in the story as they travel along some of the same ruts/trails that remain today. I would highly recommend this book if you have any interest at all (or don't) about the OREGON TRAIL. AND you know how siblings can be at times when you are together too long. Over 4,000 settlers tried this trail and today only 2 did it much the same way. Fascinating details about the logistics and mechanics of the undertaking and some interesting folks who assisted along the way made this an interesting read. Rinker blends the fascinating if fraught history of the mass migration westward into the story of his own journey. Pioneer journals were his guides, and the sections devoted to their lively accounts of trail travel were some of my favorite parts of the book. Rinker also writes movingly about his father, an adventurous, family-centered man who inspired his trip. I found the chapter about the surprising (to me) importance role of mules in 18th and 19th century America--starting with George Washington as a savvy land speculating donkey importer and mule broker--utterly captivating, and it’s a good example of the atypical historical perspectives and insights that make this book so riveting. Think for a moment how high up the driver’s seat on a covered wagon is, for example, and how immensely soporific the repetitive clopping of hooves are on a very warm spring day. There is no safety belt; there is nothing whatsoever to keep a man from falling off and being crushed beneath the wagon.