Nowadays, kids in school are learning how to code and develop apps. They don’t learn cursive and will probably never know the thrill of opening the package of a brand new TI 83+ graphic calculator. But if we ever face a true apocalypse, which seems very much on the table in 2018, today’s kids are FUCKED.
If you went to middle school in the 90s you were likely pronounced dead from dysentery on a weekly basis. When you pulled up to the computer lab and sat down at one of these bad boys to play some Oregon Trail, you knew shit was about to get real.
The Oregon Trail was the Fortnite of our generation. Instead of fighting with guns and the Carlton dance, or whatever the fuck else Fortnite uses, we had to get 4 oxen and a wagon filled with food across a flooding river to safety. God forbid your sister developed cholera on the long trek from Independence Mississippi to Oregon and you just had to bury her on the trail and keep going.
There was no Waze or even Mapquest to guide you in the direction of the trail in 1850, just a bunch of farm animals and the open road filled with dire obstacles. I personally was always most afraid of the snake bite, because with no modern medicine or doctor in sight, you were as good as dead. While my life was mostly filled with fear of NSYNC disbanding, losing a butterfly clip or missing the school bus, The Oregon Trail game helped put life into perspective for 90’s kids.
$40 a yoke sounds like a steep price for the 1800’s but fuck me up Matt, I’m trying to make it to Oregon with at least 3 healthy family members.
Once you got to Oregon, you were scored on how many people in fair health that survived as well as how many bullets and how much cash you had like it was some sort of mafia raid.
If you were lucky enough to make it to Oregon relatively unscathed, congrats to you. This one is for all of us who died of dysentery along the way. May we rest in 90’s heaven.