Early Indigenous Inhabitants of the Ogden Region

Centuries before colonization, Fremont people lived along the Weber River, growing crops, crafting pottery, and hunting among the wetlands and foothills.
Long before fur trappers and pioneers arrived, the Ogden area was home to indigenous peoples with a deep connection to the land. Archaeological evidence shows that from around 400 to 1350 A.D., the Great Salt Lake Fremont culture thrived in this region. These Fremont people left behind pithouse dwellings, pottery, and rock art, indicating a settled life of farming and foraging along the waterways. After about 1350, the Fremont culture faded, and Numic-speaking tribes — ancestors of today’s Native Americans — came to dominate the area. By the time of European contact, Northern Shoshone bands and their neighbors the Goshute inhabited northern Utah. The Shoshone, in particular, made the valleys and mountains around present-day Ogden their seasonal home. According to later accounts, local Native people regarded Ogden Valley as a special place blessed with abundant game and resources. The valley’s ample beaver, moose, elk, and waterfowl attracted these hunter-gatherers year after year. In fact, the mountain pass now known as Trapper’s Loop was once a well-trodden trail that the Shoshone used during seasonal migrations to access the valley. They would camp along the rivers and lakes, relying on the valley’s richness to sustain them through part of their yearly cycle. Each summer, the Shoshone of this region even hosted large intertribal gatherings or “rendezvous,” where they traded with neighboring tribes and, later on, with visiting mountain men. These annual gatherings were times of feasting, exchanging goods, and reinforcing social bonds – a vivid reminder that Ogden’s earliest known inhabitants had their own vibrant economy and network of alliances long before outsiders arrived.
The Northwestern Shoshone: Nomadic Life and Seasonal Cycles

A glimpse of Shoshone summer life near the river — seeds gathered, hides drying, and children at play before the next leg of the seasonal journey.
By the 1700s and early 1800s, the people living around Ogden were primarily part of the Northwestern Shoshone nation – a branch of the Shoshone whose territory spanned northern Utah, southern Idaho, northeastern Nevada, and western Wyoming. (In early records they were sometimes misidentified as “Weber Utes,” especially the band living in Weber Valley near Ogden, but in reality they were Shoshone.) The Northwestern Shoshone were highly nomadic, traveling vast distances on foot in tune with the seasons. In fact, they called themselves So-so-goi, meaning “Those Who Travel on Foot”. Survival in the Great Basin required mobility, and the Shoshone optimized their lives around seasonal resources in a yearly cycle that anthropologists have marveled at for its ecological efficiency. They did not simply wander aimlessly; they moved with purpose and intimate knowledge of when and where food could be gathered in each part of their homeland. Each season brought a new destination and source of sustenance in a carefully balanced round:
Early Autumn (late summer) – The people journeyed north to the upper Snake River country (around today’s Salmon, Idaho) to catch salmon during the spawning runs. Fish were caught in great numbers, then cleaned and dried to preserve them for winter use.
Mid-Late Autumn – After the salmon harvest, families moved east into western Wyoming to hunt big game on the high plains. Bands of Shoshone on horseback pursued buffalo, elk, deer, moose, and antelope, knowing a successful hunt meant the difference between feast or famine in the colder months. They processed the meat by cutting it into thin strips and sun-drying it into jerky for storage. Every part of the animal was utilized: hides were saved for clothing and shelter, sinew for bowstrings and thread, and bones for tools.
Spring and Early Summer – As winter’s grip released, the Northwestern Shoshone scattered across a broad area of southern Idaho and northern Utah, following the ripening of wild plants. These months were devoted to gathering seeds, roots, and berries – the staples of the Great Basin diet. Women led harvesting expeditions for nutrient-rich foods like camas bulbs, sego lily roots, wild potatoes, and onions, using sharpened digging sticks to unearth them. On the open flats and hillsides, they collected wild grass seeds which they parched and ground into flour for bread or mush. Berries of all kinds (serviceberries, chokecherries, gooseberries) were picked from mountain slopes and valley thickets. During this bountiful season, Shoshone bands often came together to socialize, court, and trade – reinforcing their sense of community while the living was easier.
Late Summer – As the heat peaked and some plant foods grew scarce, families turned to root digging once more and hunting of small game. Rabbits, sage grouse, ducks, and other small animals were taken to add protein to the diet. Women might spend an entire day gathering just a handful of wild seeds in bad years, so every member of the band pitched in. It was also a time to begin laying up more stores for winter and to enjoy interludes of rest and storytelling before the autumn travels began anew.
Late Fall (around October) – One of the most important foraging tasks beckoned from the arid hills of western Utah and eastern Nevada: the pinyon pine nut harvest. The Shoshone traveled westward to traditional groves of pinyon pine, where the trees’ cones were ripe with rich, oily pine nuts. Entire families gathered and roasted the pine cones, then pried out the sweet nuts by the sackful. Pine nuts were a highly prized food — nutritious enough to sustain people through winter, and portable enough to trade with other tribes. The annual pine nut gathering was such a central part of life that it became a cultural touchstone remembered by later generations.
Winter – As cold weather set in, the Northwestern Shoshone bands converged on sheltered valleys to wait out the winter. A favorite wintering ground was Cache Valley, around what is now the Franklin/Preston area just north of the Utah border. This spot, along the Bear River, was lower in elevation and offered natural windbreaks of willow thickets, plentiful firewood, and access to hot springs and wild game. The Shoshone named one key campsite there Moson Kahni, meaning “Home of the Lungs,” because the porous volcanic rocks in the area looked like lungs. Dozens of family tepees would dot the valley, clustered against the winter winds, as people lived off their stores of dried meat, fish, and gathered foods. Communal bison-hide tipis provided warm, portable housing well-suited to nomadic life, and could be insulated further with brush or snow. In these winter camps, daily life slowed down and the band came together to repair clothing and tools, trade stories, and rest for the coming spring.
This cyclical migration pattern allowed the Shoshone to make the most of a vast and varied land. Observers later noted that before outsiders disrupted their patterns, the Northwestern Shoshone were “among the most ecologically efficient and well-adapted” indigenous peoples of the West. Indeed, by moving regularly and harvesting different resources in each area, they avoided depleting any one place. They treated the earth as a generous provider and took only what they needed, allowing the land to replenish itself. This seasonal dance with nature had been perfected over generations, enabling these communities to thrive in what newcomers might have seen as an inhospitable environment. Modern researchers recognize that such a sustainable lifestyle holds lessons for us today in living within the limits of our environment. As one historical summary puts it, before the arrival of large numbers of settlers and their livestock, native foods like wild grasses and roots grew in abundance on Utah’s hillsides, supporting the Shoshone way of life in delicate balance.
Culture, Traditions, and Relationship with the Land

To the Shoshone, every plant and track told a story. Gathering roots was not just sustenance — it was a ceremony of knowledge and respect.
Life for the early Shoshone of the Ogden area was not only about survival, but also about community, spirituality, and maintaining a respectful balance with all living things. They viewed the Earth as their mother – a living entity that provided for them in exchange for care and respect. “Mother Earth” was the source of all necessities, and the people gave thanks through their actions: wasting nothing, managing fire and water wisely, and honoring the spirits of the animals and plants they relied on. In Shoshone belief, every part of nature was alive with stories and lessons. Elders taught that all things in nature had a voice and a story – from the animals that roamed the forests to the rocks, mountains, and trees that stood silent but watchful. This reverence fostered a deep sense of kinship between the Shoshone and their environment. When they hunted a deer or buffalo, for example, they would traditionally express gratitude to its spirit. They took care to use every piece of the animal, crafting warm clothing and sturdy shelter from hides and sinew, tools from bones, and beautiful adornments from shells and antlers. In this way, nature was not an adversary to conquer; it was a generous relative to coexist with.
Shoshone society itself was organized in small family bands, typically a few dozen to a few hundred people who traveled together. Within these bands, everyone had roles that complemented one another. Men usually took on the hunting of large game and defense of the group, while women were often the primary foragers, gathering plant foods and preparing meals. Children learned early to contribute: boys practiced with small bows to hunt rabbits, and girls helped their mothers dig roots and carry wood. Yet the Shoshone were also remarkably egalitarian and flexible in their daily life — women could also become skilled riders and hunters, and men would forage or cook if needed. Cooperation was essential for survival, and this was reflected in their values and customs.
One striking aspect of Shoshone culture was the cherishing of children and elders. In Shoshone families, children were loved deeply and rarely if ever physically punished. Instead, they were taught through gentle guidance and stories. Young ones learned to be hospitable and generous from an early age: for instance, they were told that any visitor to the camp might be cold or hungry, so it was their duty to offer food and warmth without expecting anything in return. Guests who left a Shoshone encampment were customarily sent off with a parting gift – a gesture of goodwill that solidified friendships. Children were also brought up to honor their parents and grandparents, understanding that wisdom comes with age. Elders, in turn, had the important responsibility of passing down the tribe’s knowledge. Much of Shoshone education happened not in formal lessons but in the evenings around the fire, especially during the long winter months. Wintertime was storytelling time, when elders became teachers and entertainers, spinning tales that blended myth, history, and moral guidance. The whole family would gather in a warm lodge to listen as an elder recounted how Coyote placed the stars in the sky or why the bear’s tail is short – traditional stories often featuring the animals that shared the Shoshone homeland. These stories were more than entertainment; they were a way to instill values, explain the world, and bind the community together across generations. It was said that if a child grew drowsy and fell asleep during a story, the elder would simply stop speaking and end the session – a gentle lesson in respect and attentiveness for next time.
From these oral traditions, a rich tapestry of legends and lessons emerged. For example, one tale still told by Northwestern Shoshone elders today is “The Story of the Mourning Dove.” In this story, a mother and her young daughter go out together to gather berries by the water’s edge. The mother cautions her child not to wander off alone, but as she becomes absorbed in picking berries, the little girl strays out of sight. After a frantic search, the mother hears a soft cooing sound and discovers a mourning dove in the water – holding some of the daughter’s belongings in its beak. She realizes, heartbroken, that her daughter has been magically transformed into that gentle dove. The tale is a poignant reminder to watch over loved ones (and for children, a warning to heed parents’ guidance), delivered in the memorable form of a story rather than a scolding. Another oft-shared story is a personal recollection from an elder about innovation in hardship. During an extremely cold hunting trip one fall, a Shoshone grandfather dug a warming pit in the ground, heated stones in the fire, and placed them in the pit so the children could huddle inside for warmth. This simple act, immortalized as “The Warming Pit” story, illustrates the Shoshone emphasis on adapting to nature and taking care of the most vulnerable. As the storyteller concludes, “There’s always a way — if you’re willing to adapt”. These narratives, whether ancient myths or cherished personal memories, convey core aspects of Shoshone culture: respect for nature’s warnings, the ingenuity to live with the land’s challenges, and the importance of family and community support.
Spirituality pervaded everyday life for the people here. The Shoshone did not separate the sacred from the mundane; rituals and beliefs were woven into daily activities. They held communal ceremonies such as seasonal dances and feasts to celebrate good hunts or harvests, and they sought spiritual guidance for decisions like whether to move camp or where to hunt next. A prominent figure in each band was the spiritual leader or medicine person, who led important rites. For instance, marriages were traditionally sanctified by a spiritual leader who gave the couple wise rules to live by. One old custom was to symbolically bind the bride’s and groom’s hair together and have a relative hide the knotted lock. If the couple ever wished to separate, they would first have to find and untie that hidden bond – a gentle ritual encouragement to work through problems rather than part ways. The Shoshone also practiced sweat lodge ceremonies: small dome-shaped huts were built and heated with steam for purification and prayer. Men and women would use these sweat lodges as a place for both spiritual experience and cleansing of body and mind. Such practices reinforced their connection to the spiritual realm and to their ancestors, whom they felt were always nearby in the wind, water, and stones. In all these ways, the native people of the Ogden area maintained a rich cultural life, full of practices and values that gave meaning to every season of the year. Their relationship with each other was defined by kinship, generosity, and respect, and their relationship with the land and animals was one of reverence, gratitude, and careful stewardship. These qualities not only allowed them to survive; they allowed them to truly live and find joy in this land long before it was called “Ogden.”
Legacy and Lessons Carrying On

Modern acts of restoration take root where history still lingers. Elders and descendants continue to tend the memory of Bear River.
The legacy of the first Ogden peoples still echoes today, if one knows where to listen. We can see it in the very landscape – for example, the abundance of wild game and edible plants that early explorers marveled at was no accident, but a result of indigenous land management like seasonal burning and dispersal of seeds. The Shoshone understanding of ecology, honed over centuries, ensured that humans and nature lived in balance, a lesson increasingly relevant in our modern era of sustainability challenges. Pioneers who arrived in the mid-1800s often misunderstood the natives’ way of life, deriding them as “diggers” for harvesting roots and labeling them nomadic drifters. In truth, the Northwestern Shoshone had a sophisticated food system perfectly adapted to the Great Basin – one that European livestock and settlement rapidly disrupted. As U.S. wagon trains and Mormon settlers began flooding into northern Utah in the 1840s and 1850s, competition for resources escalated. Overgrazing by cattle and sheep devastated the wild grasslands that had once provided the Shoshone with grain and attracted game. Facing hunger as their traditional foods became scarce, some Shoshone groups raided livestock or retaliated against encroaching ranches and wagon trains, which led to cycles of violence. This tension reached a horrific climax in January 1863 at the Bear River Massacre (Boa Ogoi in Shoshone). At a winter camp near present-day Preston, Idaho – the same cherished Cache Valley refuge where many Northwestern Shoshone had gathered – the U.S. Army attacked at dawn, killing an estimated 350 to 500 Shoshone men, women, and children. It was the bloodiest massacre of Native Americans in U.S. history, and it nearly annihilated the Northwestern Shoshone.
In the wake of such tragedy, the survivors’ lives were changed forever. The Shoshone bands that once freely roamed the Ogden region could no longer do so safely, and their population was shattered. Yet, remarkably, their legacy did not disappear. Some Northwestern Shoshone people stayed in their homeland, working on farms or settling in towns, while others joined Shoshone relatives on reservations in Idaho or Wyoming. Those who remained in Utah eventually organized and persisted as a distinct community. In the late 19th century, a group of Northwestern Shoshone led by Chief Sagwitch (a survivor of Bear River) converted to Mormonism and tried to farm land near Corrine, Utah, not far from their old territory. Though that endeavor failed due to prejudice and pressure from federal agents, the Shoshone did not give up. They established a small settlement in the Malad Valley on land they secured under the Homestead Act, naming it Washakie after a famous Shoshone leader. There they kept aspects of their culture alive quietly for decades. Fast-forward to modern times, and the Northwestern Band of the Shoshone Nation is once again asserting its presence. In 1987, the U.S. government officially recognized the Northwestern Band as a separate tribe, finally granting them a measure of self-determination. Today, many Northwestern Shoshone live in Utah and Idaho, and they are actively preserving their language and traditions and educating others about their history. In recent years, the tribe even purchased the Bear River Massacre site and has begun restoring the land, with plans to build an interpretive center to honor their ancestors and heal historical wounds. It is a powerful example of resilience: the descendants of those first Ogden-area inhabitants are making sure their story is not forgotten and that their values – respect for the earth, community care, and adaptation – continue to inspire new generations. For local residents of Ogden and Utah, learning about this heritage can foster empathy and connection. It reminds us that the places we call home have a deep human history and that the wisdom of those who walked here before us is still relevant, whether it’s practicing sustainable use of nature or treasuring our families and neighbors.
The Namesake Arrives: Peter Skene Ogden’s Encounter

In the 1820s, Peter Skene Ogden recorded this land in his journal — a brief visitor to a place long known by others.
No history of Ogden would be complete without mentioning the man whose name the city bears – Peter Skene Ogden. Ogden was a fur trapper and explorer, a Canadian-born brigade leader for the British Hudson’s Bay Company, and in the 1820s he became one of the first non-Native people to document northern Utah. In November 1824, Ogden set out with a large trapping party on an expedition into what was then known as the “Snake Country” (the Intermountain West), aiming to harvest beaver pelts and create a buffer against American trappers moving west. By spring 1825, Ogden’s brigade of trappers had pushed down into Utah territory, following rivers teeming with beaver. In April of that year they reached the Bear River and continued south along its course, which eventually led them into the vicinity of today’s Cache Valley and Ogden Valley. Ogden recorded detailed descriptions of the land – the broad valleys, the snow-topped Wasatch mountains, and the plentiful wildlife – providing the first written account of the area by a foreigner. He marveled at the “beautiful valley” with its lakes and streams rich in beaver, muskrat, and waterfowl. The mountains and meadows that the Shoshone had long known as prime hunting grounds were now noted in a trapper’s journal, destined to draw even more outsiders in search of wealth.
According to Ogden’s diary, the group traversed Ogden Valley (then sometimes called “Ogden’s Hole”) and trapped hundreds of beavers along the Weber River and its tributaries. Ogden’s men were not alone, however. The wilderness was suddenly very crowded with competing expeditions – American, British, French, and Spanish trappers all roaming the same region. “The whole Country [is] overrun,” Ogden wrote in astonishment in 1825, noting that they kept encountering rival parties on the Bear and Weber Rivers. One entry from his journal remarked that they appeared to be on the lands of the “Utas” (Utes), whom others described as friendly to whites. This observation about the Ute people’s friendliness actually played a role in later history: it helped persuade Mormon leader Brigham Young, some 24 years later, that settling in Utah might be feasible since local tribes were thought to be welcoming. In reality, Ogden’s party found that the Shoshone were far more numerous around Ogden Valley than the Utes, and relations were not always smooth. By the mid-1820s, the Shoshone were becoming wary and defensive, as their horses and game were being impacted by the “steady stream of migrants” using the Oregon Trail and other routes across their land. Over the ensuing years, some clashes did occur between Shoshone bands and white travelers, reflecting the growing territorial conflict that would later boil over.
Ogden’s own expedition in 1825 ended abruptly due to a dramatic confrontation – not with Native Americans, but with American rival trappers. While camped at Mountain Green (just south of present Huntsville in Weber Canyon), Peter Skene Ogden was visited by a troop of American fur traders led by Johnson Gardner, formerly of General Ashley’s outfit. In a tense exchange, Gardner challenged Ogden’s presence in what he considered American trapping territory (though all of it was then officially Mexican land). The standoff culminated in Gardner enticing 23 of Ogden’s trappers to desert and join the American side, taking with them some 700 beaver pelts – a huge financial blow to the Hudson’s Bay Company operation. Frustrated and outmaneuvered, Peter Skene Ogden decided to withdraw from the area to avoid further losses and potential international incidents. He and the remainder of his brigade retreated northward, their diaries and maps being the main legacy of this first incursion. Ironically, Ogden himself may never have set foot in the exact spot of the modern city of Ogden, down on the Weber River plain. Records suggest he trapped in the high Ogden Valley and around the foothills, but possibly never descended to where downtown Ogden is today. Nor is it certain that he ever saw the Great Salt Lake on that trip, although members of his party did and relayed their impressions.
Still, the impact of Ogden’s journey was lasting. He returned on another expedition in 1828–1829, further mapping the region’s rivers, and his name had already begun appearing on trapper maps (for instance, one river in present-day Nevada was labeled “Ogden’s River,” now the Humboldt). In the end, it was others who immortalized his name in Utah. When Mormon settlers founded a city at the site of old Fort Buenaventura in 1850, they chose to name it Ogden – honoring Peter Skene Ogden as a legendary mountain man of the area. This was a bit of a misnomer given that American trapper Miles Goodyear had actually been the first to build a permanent trading post (Fort Buenaventura) on that spot in 1846. Yet Ogden’s name had the cachet of an earlier era of exploration. Today, the city of Ogden, the Ogden River, and Ogden Valley all pay homage to that gruff Hudson’s Bay Company trapper who passed through in the 1820s.
In reflecting on this history, it’s striking how Ogden’s first people and its namesake briefly crossed paths in time. Peter Skene Ogden came in pursuit of beaver pelts and territorial leverage; the Shoshone were already part of a long and intricate cycle of seasonal movement, trade, and survival. His journals captured just a fragment of what had existed here for generations — a glimpse of a thriving culture adapted perfectly to the land. While the fur trade era was short-lived, it left a name behind. What came before — the stories, traditions, and lifeways of the Shoshone and earlier Fremont people — laid a deeper foundation, one that shaped the land long before it was mapped or claimed. The valleys, rivers, and trails of this region are still marked by that legacy, if you know how to look. And this is only the beginning of the story. What would eventually become Ogden was just starting to take shape.
Sources & Further Reading
Shoshone History & Culture
The tribe’s official summary of seasonal lifeways, spiritual values, and survival practices.
Covers diet, seasonal migration, Bear River Massacre, and post-contact transitions.
Highlights oral traditions and lessons passed down through generations.
Ogden & Trapper History
A detailed timeline of Ogden’s expeditions and his journal observations in Weber Valley.
Explores the naming of Ogden, Peter Skene Ogden’s conflicts with rival trappers, and his legacy.
Tourism-focused historical overview, including the early Fremont culture and Fort Buenaventura.
Contemporary Context & Preservation
Documents current tribal efforts to reclaim and protect the massacre site.
Further Reading
NOTES FROM THE HORSE
“Neigh”
Until next time,

Raw, weird, and local.