Father had planned to start April the 12th, but fate seemed to decree that the time was not yet. For old Mother Nature took a hand here, and it simply rained in a steady down pour for several days and nights, making the clay roads a veritable quagmire and impassable. So Father, who was in charge of the train postponed the starting, saying that "A few days of delay in starting was far better than to impoverish the energy of the beasts trying to pull the heavy loaded wagons through the sticky mud."



Tuesday, April 25, 1865. 28 wagons are in readiness for the start as the Brass Band from Mount Sterling came out to the camp and played while the caravan was forming. Our wagons began to roll at exactly 15 minutes past 12 o'clock on the afternoon of Tuesday, April 15. Owing to the trouble of getting the wagons formed into a regulated traveling column, we only traveled about seven miles that afternoon, and with the band serenading us all the afternoon and far on into the night before they returned, we came to the little town of Clayton, where we made our first nights camp of the long to be remembered journey.

Wednesday, April 26. We left Clayton quite early in the morning for our first full day's travel on our trip.



Thursday, April 27th. This morning the train got a good start and was passing through Augusta at 10:30AM. We took dinner that day away out on the prairie by a small stream called "Branch" in those days. That night we damped on the right side of the road near a school house, and it rained all night.

Friday, April 28th. It had been a bad stormy night for us, and this morning it was hard to get the train in motion. We drove as far as "Bear Creek" where we ate dinner in the rain. This made the roads bad for travel during the afternoon,and that night we camped on "Big Bear Creek", and we youngsters feasted on onions that we roasted by the camp fire.

Saturday, April 29th. Today we took dinner at Oakwood, then after dinner drove on to the banks of the Mississippi. Since we were to spend the rest of the day here and all day Sunday, all that evening and far into the night was spent in a last, joyous good time. The Band of Stringed Instruments who had left Mount Sterling with out train were still with us. A heavy tarpaulin was stretched over the rain-soaked ground, and to the music of the Stringed Band we danced the hours away, in an attempt to alleviate as far as possible, the sorrow of the parting of the last of those who were to return home.

Monday, May 1st. This day found us much rested and refreshed by the day of rest. We were all eager to be on our way, and had crossed the old Mississippi by 8:00 o'clock, passing through Keokuk in the afternoon. And when time came to stop for the night we were ten miles out of Keokuk on the "plank road" where we camped for the night.

Tuesday, May 2nd. We were now on what was then known as the old "Plank Turnpike" out of Keokuk. On account of this road running through a swampy stretch of country out of Keokuk, it had been necessary to plank it in order to make it passable at all. So for this day we set the record of miles traveled in one day for our entire trip. By night we had traveled twenty-two miles to where we camped on a small creek, about a mile out of Primrose.

Wednesday, May 3rd. I shall never forget this day as long as I live, for it was during the day that we hit a stretch of road running through a gumbo slough for about 12 miles that almost put our expedition on the blink. We had just started again after having our dinner right out on the plains, when Tim's wagon got in bad. We had traveled all morning over roads that "tried men's souls", and the endurance of horses and oxen, for the wagon wheels cut deep in the putty-like clay that clung to the spokes and hubs of each and every wheel. But as we attempted the passage of the slough, the first wagon made the trip with no great difficulty, then each succeeding wagon cut deeper and deeper in the moist dirt until the combined strength of more beasts was required to move the mud laden wagon along. It required the combined strength of eight yoke of oxen tugging at the chains to drag the last mud laden wagons through. They would make a pull of fifth yards, and then give the oxen a few minutes respite, before attempting another pull.



Thursday, May 4th. It was with a great deal of mistrust that we tackled the muddy roads again this morning. We passed through Winchester about 10:00 AM but soon came to another slough that looked decidedly like the one that had almost wrecked our hopes the day before, so the men decided that they would rather spend some time making roads rather than to repeat the experience of the day before. It was necessary to make a detour of several miles, through pastures where the men must lower embankments and make culverts across deep ditches, and it was over this temporary detour that the train of wagons followed the men as they worked. We had made very slow progress for the past two days so Father decided to return to Mount Sterling from here that me might superintend the buying and loading of the trains supply of flour, bacon and other weighty provender to be used on our journey. He would ship this to Eddyville, Iowa, which was then the western end of railway transportation.



Friday, May 5th. It just seemed as if our troubles could not be shook off, for today I must record another incident that happened to one of our train causing still more delay. The extremely bad, muddy roads through this portion of Iowa had caused us to go slow, and was so hard on the stock that some began to lose courage and wished that they had never started. It had begun to tell on the weaker stock, and especially those that were overloaded. We had just passed through Libertyville in the morning when out a few miles we came to a very bad mud hole in the road that could not be avoided and right here is where accident #1 happened to the Canterbury family.