The Pioneer Trek June 2009
Steven and I were invited to be the Ma and Pa for our stake's Pioneer Trek this year. I'm sure everyone is dying to hear about how it went, so here is the description once and for all, and probably much more information than you really cared to find out about.
My sister April was able to come and watch the kids for us while we were gone. Her husband just left for a year's tour of duty in Afghanistan, and I'm hoping that the kids kept her busy enough to not miss him quite as terribly. She brought her four cats with her (two adult and two tiny kittens) and they provided a lot of entertainment, I'm sure. I doubt the kids missed us very much. April told us that the kids told her that she was much nicer than I am. I actually make them do their chores and go to bed on time, and I'm not big on bribes. It sounded like they all had fun while we were gone, and strangely, the boys all seemed older to us when we returned.
Steven and I got up at 4:30am on Wednesday morning, dressed, and got to the stake center around 5:00am. There we checked in, ate breakfast, and loaded the buses for the 5 hour ride to Muddy Flats, Wyoming, and the Martin's Cove Visitors Center. Steven played his harmonica on the bus since we weren't allowed to bring books, or other forms of entertainment.
Once we arrived at our destination, we ate the lunches we had brought with us, then went to a building where we were shown a film about the handcart pioneers. During the film, we listened to the thunder storm and the pouring rain that began outside. At the end of the film, the youth were told which family they belonged to, and we all went outside to load our buckets (containing all our personal gear) into a handcart and learn each others names. Our family had four boys: Tyler, Ryan, Kody and Keaton; and three girls: Madelyn, Chloe, and Alyssa. By then it was only sprinkling lightly, but the trail that we set off on a few minutes later was muddy.
That afternoon we trekked about 6 miles, maybe a little more. It rained on us off and on the entire time, and for the last mile or so of our hike, the trail was so muddy in spots that it was really hard to gain traction to pull the cart. At one point I almost slipped and fell (with the trek photographer watching). A couple of the youth pulling the carts tripped or slid, and were almost run over by the carts. We arrived at the camp ground sopping wet, muddy and feeling rather miserable.
Once at camp, we looked around for places to pitch our tents, and finally the leaders set on a parking lot as the least muddy place to pitch them. Dinner that night was spaghetti, prepared by our cooking staff rather than individual families because it was too wet and there was no good place for each family to set up camp stoves and the like. Luckily it stopped raining. Once everyone had eaten and the tents were all set up, there was square dancing. Everyone was exhausted and no one really felt like dancing, but once we began it was really fun, and a great way to end the day. Shortly after we went to bed it started pouring rain again, and continued most of the night. We were woken early in the morning by the sound of coyotes howling near by.
The next morning we packed up camp, ate oatmeal for breakfast, loaded our handcarts up again and trudged back to Martin's Cove through the mud. Luckily the morning was clear, and it didn't rain until we reached Martin's Cove, and the shelter over the picnic tables where we had lunch. Then it rained with a vengeance.
After lunch we listened to a song and speakers told stories about the pioneers in the Martin handcart company. By the time the devotional was over, the rain had eased, and it was soon dry enough for us to walk--without our handcarts, through Martin's Cove, to see the place where the company camped and so many people died. Now, I didn't mention it previously, but on the previous day, my legs had taken a beating trudging through the mud. My right knee, both ankles, and my right thigh were aching and sore. My family took off at the front of the line of trekkers, and I tried to keep up with them, but soon fell behind, my knee particularly too sore to move very quickly. After some time Steven realized I was missing and stopped to wait for me, and I was with him when we entered the cove. It was a beautiful, peaceful place, and it was hard to imagine the tragedy that had taken place there so many years before. At one point there were steps leading up to a place with benches and a couple missionaries waited to share some more stories with us. As the last stragglers arrived to sit and listen to the missionaries, the rain began in again, and fell hard during the length of the missionaries' presentation. When the missionaries finished, the rain eased to a light sprinkle, and we continued on our way down a second set of stairs (my knee particularly hurt going up and down those stairs) and back to where we had left our handcarts. We picked them up and pulled them another mile or so back to the visitors' center.
At the Visitor's Center we unloaded the handcarts, and moved quickly to the buses waiting to take us to our next destination. Our speed was enhanced by the hail which began falling as soon as we arrived at the center. The handcarts were washed off quickly and everyone piled onto the buses for the hour ride to where the Willie handcart company had been caught by the winter storm. When we arrived there, pouring rain continued to fall. We learned that the trailer carrying the food supplies to our intended campground had gotten mired in mud and had to be pulled out by a tractor. The decision was made to camp there at the visitor's center in family camping spots rather than trekking two miles to our intended campsite. In an amazing feat of organization, dinner was begun and tents were set up under an awning and then carried out to the grass to be staked down while the majority of the youth sat on the buses waiting for the rain to end and watching the funnel clouds and tornados in the distance. Eventually the families were called to gather at picnic tables under shelter, where they finished cooking a delicious stew on their camp stoves. That hot stew, cooked by individual families and eaten in the scant shelter while rain poured down a few feet away was the most delicious, most appreciated meal we had! By the time we had finished eating and cleaning up, it was very late and we all tumbled to our beds exhausted while we listened to the pouring rain on the roofs of our tents. There weren't as many tents set up as before, and the youth were told to pile in as much as possible for warmth--as many as six or seven kids in a four man tent. I slept very well that night.
The next morning the sun was shining and bright. We had our breakfast (oatmeal again) and piled our rain gear, winter coats and water buckets into our handcart. We didn't bother with the buckets and camping gear since we were planning on returning to the same campsite that night. I saw the camp medical person that morning and got something to wrap up my knee, which was still aching badly from the previous day's hike. The journey that day was long and hard. The trails were muddy pools of water interspersed with thick sticky mud, and there were several streams and swampy marshes that we had to cross. Whenever possible, I tried to walk to the side of the trail, but that involved hiking over uneven terrain covered with low bushes and shrubs that was really hard on my knee. This was the first day that my feet got wet in their water proof boots, only because the water we waded through was deeper than the top of my boots. The sun shone bright and warm most of the morning, and it wasn't until just as we were finishing our picnic lunch that it started sprinkling on us.
A little after lunch came the most powerful experience for me of the entire trek. We came around a bend in the trail, and ahead of us was a man dressed in old fashioned military uniform. He announced that he was authorized by the President of the United States to commission a Mormon Battalion. The men and boys were called out, lined up and marched away up a long, steep hill, leaving the women and girls with the handcarts at the bottom. About this time it started pouring rain. We were gathered together and a sister talked to us for a while about a couple sisters in the Willie company who helped each other so they both could survive the arduous journey, one of whom wrote the song "As Sisters in Zion". She went on to talk about how men and women were meant to work together, and that we should marry someone who can be an equal partner, but at the same time we should get the education and preparation so we can manage alone if necessary. One of the girls suggested that we all recite the Young Womens' theme, and I couldn't say it with them; I was too choked up with tears. When the talk was done, the rain eased to a very light sprinkle and we grabbed our handcarts and started the long trip up the hill. I started pulling next to my "daughters" but before long the uneven footing and my sore knee made that too much, and I went to push the cart from the back, where I could walk in the middle of the trail where it was a little more even. As we approached the top of the hill we could see the men and boys lining the sides of the trail with their hats held over their hearts. We pushed our handcarts between them, and as I saw Steven standing there, I started crying again. It was so hard to push the cart, my knee hurt so badly, and looking at Steven, I could feel respect and knew that the sacrifice and the effort was worth it. The girls crested the hill on their own power before the men and boys rejoined their families. The girls learned that they could do it on their own, but they really appreciated the boys' return.
A little later we arrived at the Sweetwater River where we were greeted by a missionary couple and a billion mosquitos. The missionaries shared with us some stories about the river crossings and then those who wanted to crossed the waist deep river. I pulled the handcart across the bridge over the river with the help of one of my "daughters" while all the other members of our family gripped the rope stretched across the frigid water and pulled their way carefully to the far bank. They were grateful for the warm sun that was shining down at that point in the day.
Around 4pm we returned to camp, having completed about 13 miles that day. I immediately changed out of my sopping wet boots, then went in search of the medical personnel for a cold pack for my knee and the highest dose of Ibuprofen they could give me. I sat on a picnic bench and propped up my leg and didn't budge for a while. The youth changed out of their soaking and muddy clothes into whatever dry clothing they still happened to have (for many of them this was their pajamas.)
That evening we had a burrito/taco bar for dinner. They had various games after dinner including a two-man saw contest. I found out later they had candle dipping as well. We made dutch oven cobblers for dessert for our family. At one point a man from the pony express rode into camp and delivered to each of the youth a letter which had been secretly written beforehand by their parents. Shortly before the sun set, we were graced by the most beautiful complete double rainbow that I have ever seen. After the beautiful day we had enjoyed, the rainbow seemed like an assurance from our Heavenly Father that he had seen our struggles and difficulties and appreciated our efforts to finish the trek. When it got dark we had a testimony meeting where several of the youth shared their feelings about the trek. Several of them related in surprise that through all the trials and struggles through rain and mud, they actually had fun and were glad that they had come. After the testimony meeting we had a small family gathering where Steven and I expressed our testimonies and appreciation for the youth in our family, and gave them a chance to share anything they hadn't had opportunity to share during the testimony meeting. Then we went to bed.
The next morning we packed up, ate a delicious pancake breakfast, cleaned up camp and piled on the bus for the six hour bus ride home. We arrived back at the stake center about 5pm, collected our gear and wearily made our way home. After we had our reunion with our children, showered and changed, Steven and I went out to dinner to celebrate our 11th wedding anniversary. I loved being able to spend so much time with him. I was grateful that April was willing to stay a couple extra days so Steven and I could go out to dinner that night. We returned and went to sleep as soon as we could. The trek was wonderful, and exhausting. My knee still gets stiff when I don't move it for a while. My feet and ankles are a little swollen still, but other than that I feel well. I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to go, to learn about my pioneer heritage, to get to know some of the youth in our stake, to feel my testimony grow.
My sister April was able to come and watch the kids for us while we were gone. Her husband just left for a year's tour of duty in Afghanistan, and I'm hoping that the kids kept her busy enough to not miss him quite as terribly. She brought her four cats with her (two adult and two tiny kittens) and they provided a lot of entertainment, I'm sure. I doubt the kids missed us very much. April told us that the kids told her that she was much nicer than I am. I actually make them do their chores and go to bed on time, and I'm not big on bribes. It sounded like they all had fun while we were gone, and strangely, the boys all seemed older to us when we returned.
Steven and I got up at 4:30am on Wednesday morning, dressed, and got to the stake center around 5:00am. There we checked in, ate breakfast, and loaded the buses for the 5 hour ride to Muddy Flats, Wyoming, and the Martin's Cove Visitors Center. Steven played his harmonica on the bus since we weren't allowed to bring books, or other forms of entertainment.
Once we arrived at our destination, we ate the lunches we had brought with us, then went to a building where we were shown a film about the handcart pioneers. During the film, we listened to the thunder storm and the pouring rain that began outside. At the end of the film, the youth were told which family they belonged to, and we all went outside to load our buckets (containing all our personal gear) into a handcart and learn each others names. Our family had four boys: Tyler, Ryan, Kody and Keaton; and three girls: Madelyn, Chloe, and Alyssa. By then it was only sprinkling lightly, but the trail that we set off on a few minutes later was muddy.
That afternoon we trekked about 6 miles, maybe a little more. It rained on us off and on the entire time, and for the last mile or so of our hike, the trail was so muddy in spots that it was really hard to gain traction to pull the cart. At one point I almost slipped and fell (with the trek photographer watching). A couple of the youth pulling the carts tripped or slid, and were almost run over by the carts. We arrived at the camp ground sopping wet, muddy and feeling rather miserable.
Once at camp, we looked around for places to pitch our tents, and finally the leaders set on a parking lot as the least muddy place to pitch them. Dinner that night was spaghetti, prepared by our cooking staff rather than individual families because it was too wet and there was no good place for each family to set up camp stoves and the like. Luckily it stopped raining. Once everyone had eaten and the tents were all set up, there was square dancing. Everyone was exhausted and no one really felt like dancing, but once we began it was really fun, and a great way to end the day. Shortly after we went to bed it started pouring rain again, and continued most of the night. We were woken early in the morning by the sound of coyotes howling near by.
The next morning we packed up camp, ate oatmeal for breakfast, loaded our handcarts up again and trudged back to Martin's Cove through the mud. Luckily the morning was clear, and it didn't rain until we reached Martin's Cove, and the shelter over the picnic tables where we had lunch. Then it rained with a vengeance.
After lunch we listened to a song and speakers told stories about the pioneers in the Martin handcart company. By the time the devotional was over, the rain had eased, and it was soon dry enough for us to walk--without our handcarts, through Martin's Cove, to see the place where the company camped and so many people died. Now, I didn't mention it previously, but on the previous day, my legs had taken a beating trudging through the mud. My right knee, both ankles, and my right thigh were aching and sore. My family took off at the front of the line of trekkers, and I tried to keep up with them, but soon fell behind, my knee particularly too sore to move very quickly. After some time Steven realized I was missing and stopped to wait for me, and I was with him when we entered the cove. It was a beautiful, peaceful place, and it was hard to imagine the tragedy that had taken place there so many years before. At one point there were steps leading up to a place with benches and a couple missionaries waited to share some more stories with us. As the last stragglers arrived to sit and listen to the missionaries, the rain began in again, and fell hard during the length of the missionaries' presentation. When the missionaries finished, the rain eased to a light sprinkle, and we continued on our way down a second set of stairs (my knee particularly hurt going up and down those stairs) and back to where we had left our handcarts. We picked them up and pulled them another mile or so back to the visitors' center.
At the Visitor's Center we unloaded the handcarts, and moved quickly to the buses waiting to take us to our next destination. Our speed was enhanced by the hail which began falling as soon as we arrived at the center. The handcarts were washed off quickly and everyone piled onto the buses for the hour ride to where the Willie handcart company had been caught by the winter storm. When we arrived there, pouring rain continued to fall. We learned that the trailer carrying the food supplies to our intended campground had gotten mired in mud and had to be pulled out by a tractor. The decision was made to camp there at the visitor's center in family camping spots rather than trekking two miles to our intended campsite. In an amazing feat of organization, dinner was begun and tents were set up under an awning and then carried out to the grass to be staked down while the majority of the youth sat on the buses waiting for the rain to end and watching the funnel clouds and tornados in the distance. Eventually the families were called to gather at picnic tables under shelter, where they finished cooking a delicious stew on their camp stoves. That hot stew, cooked by individual families and eaten in the scant shelter while rain poured down a few feet away was the most delicious, most appreciated meal we had! By the time we had finished eating and cleaning up, it was very late and we all tumbled to our beds exhausted while we listened to the pouring rain on the roofs of our tents. There weren't as many tents set up as before, and the youth were told to pile in as much as possible for warmth--as many as six or seven kids in a four man tent. I slept very well that night.
The next morning the sun was shining and bright. We had our breakfast (oatmeal again) and piled our rain gear, winter coats and water buckets into our handcart. We didn't bother with the buckets and camping gear since we were planning on returning to the same campsite that night. I saw the camp medical person that morning and got something to wrap up my knee, which was still aching badly from the previous day's hike. The journey that day was long and hard. The trails were muddy pools of water interspersed with thick sticky mud, and there were several streams and swampy marshes that we had to cross. Whenever possible, I tried to walk to the side of the trail, but that involved hiking over uneven terrain covered with low bushes and shrubs that was really hard on my knee. This was the first day that my feet got wet in their water proof boots, only because the water we waded through was deeper than the top of my boots. The sun shone bright and warm most of the morning, and it wasn't until just as we were finishing our picnic lunch that it started sprinkling on us.
A little after lunch came the most powerful experience for me of the entire trek. We came around a bend in the trail, and ahead of us was a man dressed in old fashioned military uniform. He announced that he was authorized by the President of the United States to commission a Mormon Battalion. The men and boys were called out, lined up and marched away up a long, steep hill, leaving the women and girls with the handcarts at the bottom. About this time it started pouring rain. We were gathered together and a sister talked to us for a while about a couple sisters in the Willie company who helped each other so they both could survive the arduous journey, one of whom wrote the song "As Sisters in Zion". She went on to talk about how men and women were meant to work together, and that we should marry someone who can be an equal partner, but at the same time we should get the education and preparation so we can manage alone if necessary. One of the girls suggested that we all recite the Young Womens' theme, and I couldn't say it with them; I was too choked up with tears. When the talk was done, the rain eased to a very light sprinkle and we grabbed our handcarts and started the long trip up the hill. I started pulling next to my "daughters" but before long the uneven footing and my sore knee made that too much, and I went to push the cart from the back, where I could walk in the middle of the trail where it was a little more even. As we approached the top of the hill we could see the men and boys lining the sides of the trail with their hats held over their hearts. We pushed our handcarts between them, and as I saw Steven standing there, I started crying again. It was so hard to push the cart, my knee hurt so badly, and looking at Steven, I could feel respect and knew that the sacrifice and the effort was worth it. The girls crested the hill on their own power before the men and boys rejoined their families. The girls learned that they could do it on their own, but they really appreciated the boys' return.
A little later we arrived at the Sweetwater River where we were greeted by a missionary couple and a billion mosquitos. The missionaries shared with us some stories about the river crossings and then those who wanted to crossed the waist deep river. I pulled the handcart across the bridge over the river with the help of one of my "daughters" while all the other members of our family gripped the rope stretched across the frigid water and pulled their way carefully to the far bank. They were grateful for the warm sun that was shining down at that point in the day.
Around 4pm we returned to camp, having completed about 13 miles that day. I immediately changed out of my sopping wet boots, then went in search of the medical personnel for a cold pack for my knee and the highest dose of Ibuprofen they could give me. I sat on a picnic bench and propped up my leg and didn't budge for a while. The youth changed out of their soaking and muddy clothes into whatever dry clothing they still happened to have (for many of them this was their pajamas.)
That evening we had a burrito/taco bar for dinner. They had various games after dinner including a two-man saw contest. I found out later they had candle dipping as well. We made dutch oven cobblers for dessert for our family. At one point a man from the pony express rode into camp and delivered to each of the youth a letter which had been secretly written beforehand by their parents. Shortly before the sun set, we were graced by the most beautiful complete double rainbow that I have ever seen. After the beautiful day we had enjoyed, the rainbow seemed like an assurance from our Heavenly Father that he had seen our struggles and difficulties and appreciated our efforts to finish the trek. When it got dark we had a testimony meeting where several of the youth shared their feelings about the trek. Several of them related in surprise that through all the trials and struggles through rain and mud, they actually had fun and were glad that they had come. After the testimony meeting we had a small family gathering where Steven and I expressed our testimonies and appreciation for the youth in our family, and gave them a chance to share anything they hadn't had opportunity to share during the testimony meeting. Then we went to bed.
The next morning we packed up, ate a delicious pancake breakfast, cleaned up camp and piled on the bus for the six hour bus ride home. We arrived back at the stake center about 5pm, collected our gear and wearily made our way home. After we had our reunion with our children, showered and changed, Steven and I went out to dinner to celebrate our 11th wedding anniversary. I loved being able to spend so much time with him. I was grateful that April was willing to stay a couple extra days so Steven and I could go out to dinner that night. We returned and went to sleep as soon as we could. The trek was wonderful, and exhausting. My knee still gets stiff when I don't move it for a while. My feet and ankles are a little swollen still, but other than that I feel well. I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to go, to learn about my pioneer heritage, to get to know some of the youth in our stake, to feel my testimony grow.
Wow, thanks for sharing about the trek. I've always wanted to go on one of those treks, but it sounds way difficult! That is very neat that you were able to experience it all. :)
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