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It was the only real interactive component after choosing our supplies—the only random moment that we felt we had control over.

In the game, as in life, making it to the West was the baseline. To earn a spot on the leaderboard, you had to score higher than the travelers before you. To win, you had to beat out explorer Stephen Meek, a fur trapper and guide who pioneered an alternative route into Oregon called the Meek Cutoff.

But this also, perhaps even unintentionally, acted as a built-in metaphor for the frontier itself. The real goal was to obtain land, to spread. After the war of , a sense of unification—from sea to shining sea—became imperative in selling the growing American colonial project to the citizens of a newly minted U. Now fully emancipated from Britain, East Coast intellectuals strove to cultivate a national cultural identity in a place that was anything but unified. Native American life, particularly its relationship to the land, was romanticized by white authors as part of a true and pure American identity.

Meanwhile, state-sanctioned genocide and violent policies like the Indian Removal Act ravaged the Indigenous population and forced the survivors off of ancestral lands and onto reservations. Between and , the U. Eventually, those settlers moved west too; the Panic of , which led to an economic depression, combined with flood and disease in the Midwest, gave way to Oregon Fever, a mass migration spurred by a utopian vision of farmland in the West.

It was touted as a place ripe for cultivation with few of the problems of the East. By going, they were doing their duty as Americans to expand the frontier—a jingoistic rhetoric with godly Manifest Destiny overtones.

After , settlers flooded in by the thousands, some breaking away at Fort Hall to head south to California, which was still a part of Mexico. Oregon became an official U.

His wife could claim another acres. It also explicitly barred Native, Black, Hawaiian, or Asian people from becoming landowners in the territory.

Native communities, many established there for thousands of years, were pressured to cede the land they inhabited and resettle elsewhere or sign treaties, many of which would eventually be broken.

Between and , more than 7, claims were made by settlers on close to three million acres in Oregon. To Turner, the Western frontier was a solid thing—a line to push forward, an edge. All had been conquered. But those who migrated west later—some of them, like my mother, hippies and freethinkers, meditators and back-to-the-landers—were still seeking a frontier.

When they ran out of land, they simply turned to the sky. Bowling Green State University sociology professor Madeline Duntley studies what she calls frontier esotericism, a theory that links colonizer ideals like the frontier and conquering wilderness to the obscure practice of seeking enlightenment via western geographies, where land becomes a portal for spiritual ascension.

By deeming themselves channels, these men, always white, became self-appointed conduits for enlightenment. Ballard and his kind created an entire culture and economy around rendering Mount Shasta a spiritual and religious wellspring.

They were, as Duntley puts it, spiritual prospectors who occupied psychic space already home to Native mythologies, such as the Pit River Tribe story of Mis Misa, a spirit that lives within the mountain which they call Akoo-Yet and keeps the earth at a proper distance from the sun.

The salmon gave them their voices. In , over 30 Native artists, writers, and designers created a Native-centered version of the game. In When Rivers Were Trails , Native travelers set out for California, but unlike white settlers for whom land was a guaranteed carrot at the end of the trip, their chances to maintain land diminish the farther west they go. Growing up in Mount Shasta, surrounded by proto-QAnon conspiritualists and constant talk of ascended masters, life often seemed like a game.

Playing The Oregon Trail was soothing. It both confirmed that reality was indeed a concrete thing with consequences and laid bare just how absurd and tenuous it all was. I could do everything right—become a banker, shoot all my food, keep my family warm—and still, LucyKat would die from dysentery.

Whether the destination was Oregon or enlightenment, it remained always out of reach. Like the original settlers, my mother and her peers journeyed west expecting to find themselves—or at the very least, freedom from the suburban ennui of middle-class Midwestern life.

They may seem worlds apart, those toiling through the grit and exhaustion of the Oregon Trail and those who concerned themselves with ethereal endeavors. But they were looking for the same thing. As I got older, I harbored a certain cynicism about this—holding their generation uniquely responsible for murky spiritual wrongs that I felt viscerally, long before I had the precise language of appropriation or colonialism or capitalism. Earlier this year, I tracked down and played through the original version of The Oregon Trail, available through an online simulator.

In a update , three Indigenous historians were hired to make the game more historically accurate. Now the game is more honest. But the original version of The Oregon Trail , imperfect as it is, is important to revisit.

The pixelated avatars we assumed every Wednesday remind us that ideas can be just as ambitious and murderous as individuals. Search Search. Illustration: Sally Deng. Twitter Icon.