Dear Journal,

I really get bored on this trail. I can barely walk, and that absolutely worthless pair of boots are too tight. I wish we were near Independence, but no... Daddy really hated that place. Now, here we are, browsing the Platte River in the middle of absolutely nowhere! I usually get my self bored with this whole trail thing. The only fun thing about this entire thing is that the Platte is that there are frogs. Green Frogs. Bull Frogs. Tree Frogs. Wonderful Frogs. I catch them for entertainment. Anne hates it when I put one in her clothes drawer! Frogs really are cool- that's the end of that tribute. Well, anyway, I'm still so darn bored. I had better go outside- I have got to trap some more frogs. Anne obviously wants a fancy feast tonight... Nah, I'd best not put a squashed frog in her hair. Now for the frog tribute continuation. Frogs are cool. Realized that yet? Whoops, getting off the subject. Anyway, this place is a nightmare. I really hate the boredom.

Sincerely,

John Jr.