Riverton

Ch. 1. The Founding of Riverton

In the autumn of 1794, a small wagon train led by Ezekiel Conway crested the rolling hills of what would become the Pacific Northwest and gazed down upon a pristine valley. Below them stretched Green Lake, its waters reflecting the towering evergreens that seemed to touch the low-hanging clouds and rivers snaking to and away from the lake. Conway, a former cavalry officer turned horse breeder, had been searching for the perfect place to establish a community built around his vision: a town where the rhythm of life moved to the steady beat of hooves rather than the chaos of industrial progress.

The Journey West

Conway's expedition had taken the better part of six months, following existing trade routes between forts before branching off into uncharted territory. The 23 founding families who followed him weren't just seeking adventure; they were fleeing the rapid changes transforming the eastern seaboard. Mills and factories were sprouting like weeds, cities were becoming crowded and dirty, and the careful art of horsemanship was being pushed aside by an obsession with speed and efficiency.

Conway had hung petitions throughout bustling, progressive towns throughout the colonies, advertising for families with "good housesteading skills" and "a desire for the unknown," as well as young, strong men and women who wanted to start a new life. It took years to prepare.

Among the founding settlers who found those petitions were Marcus and Helena Grey, master trainers who had grown tired of wealthy clients who cared more about showing off than proper riding technique. Dr. Cornelius Hamilton brought his veterinary skills and a wagon full of medical supplies, both human and equine. The Pepper twins, Samuel and Solomon, loaded their wagons with seeds and farming implements, convinced they could create a self-sufficient agricultural community in the wilderness.

When they came upon the valley with the winding river that would later become Riverton, Conway knew he had found it.

The Controversy of the Founders' Cabins

The valley offered everything the settlers needed: abundant fresh water, rich soil, natural grazing meadows, and timber for building. But choosing individual plots sparked Riverton's first major controversy before the town was even founded. Widow Abernathy, whose husband had died of fever during the journey, claimed the prime spot overlooking Green Lake. She argued that her late husband had "spiritually surveyed" it in a dream before his passing, and that his final wish was for her to build there.

Blacksmith Morrison had other ideas. He insisted his forge needed to be centrally located for everyone's convenience, which coincidentally happened to be the exact same spot Widow Abernathy wanted. Morrison argued that without a proper smithy, their horses would go unshod and their tools would remain unrepaired.

The dispute escalated when Morrison's teenage apprentice, Young Tom, started bringing wildflowers to Widow Abernathy's daughter, Mary. Suddenly, accusations flew that the whole land dispute was actually a romantic conspiracy designed to force the families together. The matter consumed the entire settlement for weeks, with neighbors taking sides and heated arguments breaking out during communal meals.

The issue was finally resolved in typical Riverton fashion: Conway's own horse, Old Thunder, got out from the old founder's ranch and wandered onto the disputed land, refusing to move for three days straight. No amount of coaxing, bribing with oats, or gentle pulling could budge the stubborn animal. The settlers took this as a divine sign and declared the spot a communal grazing ground: the future site of the equestrian center.

Building the Foundation

With the land dispute settled, the community threw itself into construction. The first permanent structure was Conway's trading post, a sturdy log building that served as general store, meeting hall, and unofficial town center. Conway kept the community's money in a simple strongbox behind the counter; the humble beginning of what would eventually become Central Bank.

Dr. Hamilton established his practice in a small cabin near the lake, where he could easily access fresh water for cleaning wounds and mixing medicines. His reputation grew quickly after he successfully treated a difficult horse birth that saved both mare and foal, though he nearly caused a scandal when he suggested that maybe, just maybe, they should consider keeping a few oxen for the heaviest hauling work. The proposal was so controversial that three families threatened to pack up and leave. Hamilton quickly backtracked, claiming he was "just testing everyone's commitment."

The Grey family began construction on what would become the Conway M. Grey Equestrian Center — though in those early days it was just a large barn with a fenced training area. Marcus Grey had strong opinions about proper riding technique and wasn't shy about sharing them, leading to several heated discussions about whether formal English riding methods learned back East were suitable for frontier life, or if they needed to develop more practical techniques for navigating rough mountain terrain and dense forest paths. Conway, with his military background, often found himself mediating between Grey's insistence on "proper form" and the younger settlers who favored whatever worked best for their daily needs.

Winter Trials and Community Building

The winter of 1795 tested the young community's resolve. Supplies ran lower than expected, and the isolation that had seemed so appealing in autumn felt oppressive under heavy snow. The Pepper twins' ongoing fertilizer feud reached its peak when Solomon accused Samuel of stealing his recipe and selling it to a passing trader before they'd even left the East Coast. The argument got so heated that they divided their shared cabin with a chalk line down the middle and refused to speak to each other for two months.

Widow Abernathy proved to be a natural organizer, establishing a system for sharing resources and coordinating communal meals. Her daughter, Mary, and Young Tom announced their engagement during the darkest part of winter, providing the community with something to celebrate and plan for.

Dr. Hamilton kept busy treating everything from frostbite to cabin fever, while also tending to the horses that were the community's lifeline. He began keeping detailed records of both human and animal health, establishing a tradition of meticulous documentation that would serve the town well in future decades.

Spring Growth and Future Foundations

The community had not only survived but begun to thrive by the time spring came around in 1796. Green Lake Dock was completed after a surprisingly heated debate about whether boats violated their commitment to horse-based transportation. The pragmatists won, arguing that occasional supply boats were necessary for survival, though some purists grumbled about "cheating." The Lake itself became somewhat of an attraction: traveling circuses would establish temporarily in town, utilizing the Dock for storing their games and drawing a Riverton crowd.

The Pepper twins finally reconciled when they realized their separate fertilizer experiments had produced different but equally effective results. They decided to combine their knowledge, laying the groundwork for what would eventually become Pepper & Pepper Produce.

Conway established the first official mail route, with riders making monthly trips to the nearest established town. This service would eventually evolve into Riverton's Post Office, though in those early days it was just Conway keeping letters in a wooden box and hoping someone was heading in the right direction.

As the settlement's second year began, the founders had established not just buildings and businesses, but the character that would define Riverton. They had proven that a community could thrive by moving at its own pace, making decisions through lengthy debates and occasional divine intervention from stubborn horses.

Ezekiel Conway stood once again overlooking his valley that spring morning, watching smoke rise from two dozen chimneys and horses grazing peacefully in the morning mist. He had no idea that his little settlement would still be thriving — and still arguing about the proper way to do things — over two centuries later.