Transcript for Charles P. Anderson journal (1975), 2

We left Wyoming August 13th 1866 traveling with ox teams; the dreadful cholera continued its ravages, until the cool weather, then it ceased.

I never heard how many died but at least one third, perhaps more. One family from Denmark of thirteen all died but one, another from Sweden of five, only one remained, who arrived in Salt Lake City. I was sick across the Atlantic, through the States, and did not gain strength until the cool weather on the latter part of the journey across the plains; when one day I was anxious to walk, had not gone far when weakness seem to overpower me, and I did not ask the teamster to stop the oxen, but walked in between the oxen and the wagon, and was about to enter the wagon, when I fell under the wagon, but was able to get into the center of the road and was not hurt. We traveled along viewing the grand works of nature, and unmolested by the red man; although thirty or forty of them camped with us one night. They were dressed very nice, and seemed very pleased with the kind treatment received from the Captain and company.

We traveled along the Platte River, finally arrived at Fort Laramie, a government post, many soldiers were there to protect the traveler. After that we passed Devil's Gate, it was a grand and awe inspiring site, to see a chasm hundreds of feet in depth, cut through a mountain of solid rock, by the action of water, or some other of the forces of nature. Now while writing of the long and tedious road of the plains, my thoughts revert back to the travels of the Latter-day Saints, when they were compelled by lawless mobs, to face this western wilderness in search of a new home. The toils and hardships they endured while constructing bridges, opening roads, and raising the necessities of life; while traveling a thousand miles from civilization into the heart of an Indian Country could not have been accomplished without the aid and guidance of Divine Providence.

As we approached the boundary of Utah, it was late in the fall, and nature began clothing the "everlasting hills" with its white robes. We finally reached "Parl[e]y's Canyon", which we passed through and camped at its "mouth". Next morning we arose very early, to gratify our enthusiasm by getting the first look at Salt Lake City and the surrounding country. As soon as the teamsters had hitched up the oxen, we began ascending a dugway, which brought in sight of our destination.