The first wagon train to arrive was in 1862 and as indicated above, my ancestors were among that group of hearty pioneers that survived the perilous journey west. Coming over this last hill a most remarkable sight met our eyes. Here was a beautiful valley with luxuriant growth of green grass through which flowed a river of clear sparkling water with high mountains in the rear. The grass was even better than that cutivated in the rich soil of north Missouri. On the west side of the river was rye grass so high you could ride through on a small horse and never be seen.
Baker City is a town where the past comes alive.
Five miles east of the city the National Historic Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, interprets the great westward migration of the 19th century. In town, a parade of beautiful old historic homes reflect dignity and community respect. A lush and shaded city park is a cool oasis before crossing the street to the, Oregon Trail Regional Museum. I couldn't possibly say enough about this wonderful little museum that sits shyly in the shadow ofthe much acclaimed, Interpretive Center. If your planning a visit to Baker City, you must take the time to visit this slighted but mighty repository of old.