TRUCKEE — In California history class, I daydreamed through the missions, and the Big Four were a bore — but I perked right up when we got to the Donner Party.

“It’s the cannibalism,” said Donner Memorial State Park ranger Don Schmidt. “If it wasn’t for that, I’m not sure too many people would remember these folks.”

A foot of snow lay on the ground at the foot of Donner Pass, and a big winter storm was on the way, so it seemed a perfect time reacquaint myself with one of the most morbidly fascinating stories in our state’s history.

Covering 3,000 acres between Donner Lake and the town of Truckee, Donner Memorial State Park preserves the site where most of the covered-wagon immigrants dug in during the awful winter of 1846-47, clinging to life by eating boiled bones, bits of rawhide and, eventually, the flesh of the fallen.

Ironically, the Donners themselves were camped 6 miles away at Alder Creek, and were only peripheral players in the main thread of the drama.

There are a lot of misconceptions about the Donner Party, and I held two of the most common. I’d always assumed the immigrants were aiming for what is today called Donner Summit, the route Interstate 80 follows past the north side of Donner Lake and the Boreal ski resort. They weren’t. The wagon route crossed the crest at a little notch a few hundred yards south of Donner Pass Road, also called Old Highway 40, near Donner Ski Ranch and Sugar Bowl.

Like many people, I also believed the snow that winter was unusually early and deep. This is still being debated, but according to Schmidt, recent tree-ring studies and historical accounts suggest that, for the time, it was probably a pretty normal winter.

“The other big misconception is that they arrived here, hopped out of their wagons and started eating each other,” Schmidt said. “People don’t seem to understand that it was a last, desperate resort, when they had reached the very bottom basement of survival.”

As I was taught in California history class, the wagon train left Illinois in April 1846, lost precious time attempting an ill-advised shortcut through the Wasatch Mountains of Utah and arrived at the foot of what’s now Donner Pass in October, just as the first snow of the season fell. Snowbound, and with virtually no food, the last of the survivors wasn’t rescued until April.

The rangers lead several different snowshoe hikes a week, some focusing on the Donners, others on natural history, the transcontinental railroad or winter survival skills. During my visit, the snow was firm enough to walk on, so ranger Scott Elliott and I set out to visit the Donner Party cabin sites in the park.

The gruesome nature of the events leads to a lot of nervous, black humor among visitors. “Finger food, rib roasts, frozen entrees — we’ve heard all the jokes,” Elliott said as we crunched through the snow. “We don’t want to be disrespectful, but people seem to need to deal with their discomfort with jokes. We understand.”

For the middle of winter, there was a surprising amount of wildlife around. As we followed Donner Creek through a forest of lodgepole pines, we saw the footprints of snowshoe hares and pine martins, and on the banks of the creek we found alders freshly felled by beavers.

Party members built three rough cabins in or near the park, and it surprised me that they were separated by a half-mile or more. Elliott explained that the Donner Party was just a loose confederation of family groups that didn’t get along terribly well. Long before the cannibalism started, they’d had their fill of each other, socially speaking.

Not far from the creek, we came to one of the few tangible remnants of the tragedy. A 10-foot-high boulder served as one wall of the cabin built by the Murphy family, and black streaks remain from their fires.

A plaque lists the names of the 90 Donner Party members — the 42 who died on one side, the 48 survivors on the other. (Various sources conflict about the exact numbers.)

The cabin was about 10 feet by 10 feet, with a bare floor and ox-hide roof, and as many as 10 people at a time lived in it.

“All this is a reminder of how untested we are in this modern age,” Elliott said. “Back then, the pioneers dealt with nature on its own terms, and it could be harsh. These days, campers consider it a tragedy if they forget the marshmallows for their s’mores.”

If You Go ...

Getting there: Donner Memorial State Park is about 160 miles from Napa, following Interstate 80 east. Just before Truckee, exit at Donner Pass Road and drive south a short distance to park headquarters.

General information: (800) 444-7275

On the Net: www.parks.ca.gov