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Shelly’s special pemmican stew,” Jeremy explained. “Dried meat and berries mixed in with cornmeal. The Cree Indians shared the recipe with the pioneers. It was a popular dish along this trail.”
    Everyone ate the stew. Though it was something they probably wouldn’t have liked at home, here, because they were sitting around a fire in the open country and were tired from a hard day’s preparation for their journey, it tasted fine.
    “Are we going to be eating this every night?” someone asked Jeremy.
    He shook his head. “No. We won’t be lucky enough to have pemmican stew every night. Most of what we eat we’ll be carrying with us, just like the pioneers. We’ll be traveling the same route as them, as much as modern towns and highways permit. That means we won’t have any electricity, running water, or heat. All we’ll have is the outdoors and the challenge of nature.”
    Deborah looked guiltily over at the rucksack thatheld her laptop computer. “I think I’d better leave that at the lodge,” she whispered to the girls. “It won’t do me any good anyway, without an outlet to recharge the batteries.”
    “I feel like I’m saying good-bye to the modern world forever,” Lisa said, taking the last bite of her stew.
    Jeremy spoke as if he’d read her mind. “Even though we’re going to live the lives the pioneers lived as much as possible, I will have a cell phone, just in case of emergency. Anybody else here carrying a cell phone?”
    Four people raised their hands.
    “Good,” said Jeremy. “We’ll be well prepared. On our third night out we’re scheduled to meet with some folks from a nearby dude ranch who are participating in a mock cattle drive. We’ll have fresh food and a hoedown and a real celebration by the fire. It should be a lot of fun.”
    “It sounds terrific!” someone called from across the fire.
    “I think you’ll find the next six days will be an experience you won’t soon forget,” Jeremy said.
    “I won’t soon forget spending six days in this dumb dress,” grumbled Stevie, trying to scratch between her shoulder blades.
    After everyone had finished supper, Stevie, Carole, and Lisa helped wash the dishes. Then they spongedthemselves off in the cold, rushing creek and walked slowly toward their wagon.
    “I can’t believe how tired I am, and it’s not even sundown!” Carole said.
    “I know.” Lisa yawned. “That sleeping bag is going to feel great.”
    “I’ve got to write in my journal some before I go to sleep,” Stevie said as the girls climbed into the back of the wagon.
    “Are you sure you’ve got the energy for that?” Carole asked.
    “Well, I am tired, but I made Phil a promise and I’m going to keep it.”
    The girls settled in next to Deborah, who was already in her sleeping bag. Stevie lit a small oil lamp and dug her pen and journal out of her backpack.
    “Don’t write too late, Stevie,” said Deborah from under her covers. “Remember, the real journey starts tomorrow at sunup.”
    “I won’t,” Stevie whispered. She sat up and balanced the journal on her legs.
Day One
, she wrote at the top of the first page.
    Today we had a breakfast of mush and met our wagon master, Jeremy Barksdale. We’ve also met our horses and our cow and one very stuck-up boy named
Gabriel, who thinks men conquered the West all by themselves.
    Stevie started to write that Gabriel did know all about wagons and harnesses and packing supplies, but she decided Phil probably wouldn’t be interested in that. Instead, she wrote:
    Gabriel is tall and lean, with dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. Occasionally he will smile, and then he has a dimple in his right cheek.
    “Oh no,” Stevie whispered, feeling a hot blush of embarrassment as she read over her words. “I can’t say that!” Quickly she tore the page out of her journal and started again.
    Today we had a breakfast of mush and met our wagon master, Jeremy Barksdale. We’ve met our horses and our cow and one