Lets go waaay back in time...shall we?

Has anyone in the history of "blogging" ever posted something that happend almost a year ago?  I was editing my posts and found this "draft"...thought it was important for family history, even though it happened last July.  Yes, you read correct...last July.  Leave it to me to warp the rules of blogging!

This should be a short story that I will somehow manage to make very long. My darling Lauren and me are very good at doing that. (is my English correct in that sentence? Lauren and me = we? right. Not Lauren and I = us. Story growing and growing already!)

Near the end of July, the youth in our stake (click HERE for definition of stake if you're not versed in LDS terms! ) took a long planned, highly attended, much anticipated trip to the un-populated and very beautiful state of Wyoming for "trek".

Really, it's a re-enactment of two Mormon pioneer handcart companies from 1856, the Willie and Martin companies, made up of immigrant church members working their way to Salt Lake City. Their 'trek' was ill fated in the beginning and these faithful, strong men, women and children sustained more than 200 deaths as they crossed the plains in snow and severe weather. It's a great story. An important one, I think. One that shows how important faith is and most importantly, one that shows that we have a Heavenly Father who loves us and blesses us...not always in ways we think we should be blessed, but in ways He knows is for our best good. Great stories came from some of these pioneers.

Did I say that I can make a long story short?

Will was asked to be one of the two company captains. It was more of a leadership role. A lot of stress and planning and question answering and responsibility. But of course, Will was the man for the job. The 'trek' was set up to have all the youth be a member of a family with a 'ma' and a 'pa'. And each family pulled and pushed a handcard like the pioneers did more than 100 years ago.

I was excited I got to go with Will.  Jay and Katie Jane also went but were in different families so we didn't see them very often.  We saw Katie Jane the most because her "family" was a couple of hand carts behind us.  Packing everything we could take into a bucket, which also was our only place to sit besides the lovely earth beneath our feet, was very difficult.

Our good friend Susan took this picture with her phone. This is after about 30 miles in hot weather (honestly, it could have been worse - as far as the hot goes - the hurricane force winds and the driving rain were a different story). Everyone wore clothes resembling pioneers...I say resembling because I'm sure pioneer children did not wear tank tops under their shirts and I think shoes were a luxury near the end of their trek - but there is no way that I would have attempted to walk that far - pulling and pushing on dirt, rocks and sand, in nothing other than my best running shoes. I can honestly say that the bonnets the girls wore really are functional. They would catch the breeze and cool your face as well as provide shade.

The other necessity that I missed, besides having running water, was a purse.  I could have put everything in my bucket on the handcart, but then I would have had to make everyone stop so I could get stuff out of it.  Packing it around was much easier.  The poor pockets in my apron took a beating!  I guess I could have had more room in them if I had not stashed them full of candy...as if walking all day for 3 days didn't keep me busy enough...I had to cater to my sugar craving.

Everyone in each family took turns pulling and pushing the handcarts.  SO glad we took gloves.  It really made me appreciate how strong the women must have been then.  There were hills we pushed up, rocks we rolled over and sand we pushed through and a river we crossed, the Sweetwater river, which was a very sacred experience, but felt heavenly in the middle of July to wash at least 6 layers of dirt off our feet as we  quietly pushed out handcarts across the river.

Names of the 4 boys who carried every person in the hand cart company across the icy Sweetwater river...and by icy I mean, with ice chunks floating in it!!

The most entertaining part for me was listening to the young men pulling their cart behind me.  I thought I was listening to the real live Paul Bunyan...this kid could do it all!  He talked about shooting little animals with large guns, which in listening to his bragging, left little to the imagination as to how many bits the animals were blown into...just my cup of tea!  My brain was going crazy trying to remember all the ridiculousness that came out of that boys mouth.  In the end, I think my brain gave up!

Kids are funny.  (funny meant in a stupid way) If you KNEW you were going to be walking 12 - 15 miles the next day for 8 hours and pushing a hand cart, would you stay up all night around the camp fire?  Really? Would you?  I don't think I was ever that stupid!!  I think they felt their stupidness the next day...ha!

The worst part was the weather.  During the day it was beautiful, but as soon as Mother Nature smelled that our dinner was ready, she inflicted 90+ mph winds.  Seriously.  You knew what was for dinner as you were walking (holding your skirt down and trying to keep the dirt from blowing into your eyes) to the food tent by all the food on the ground that had been blown out of everyones hands.  That wasn't so great, because on the last night, Will and I didn't get much for dinner because everyone had to go back and try again.  By the time we got to the food the awesome food committee was pulling out anything left.  That's one thing I had compassion for the pioneers for.  They pushed themselves to exhaustion and got 2 TBSP of flour per day...I was STARVING...at least I got some carrots.  Heaven knows I would have been just fine without any food for more than a day! One morning I woke up and opened the tent door and I thought I was Dorothy in Kansas.  Nothing was where it used to be.  Tents were gone or caved in and anything that wasn't heavy enough and was left outside a tent was everywhere.

Great experience.  There's so much more I would write.  So much that I probably have already forgotten.  But I guess the part that is the most important to remember is the faith and the love of the Savior's Gospel that these people had...to endure what they did...and that we got to try to experience a fraction of it.

I definately appreciate my trials...their different...but they're mine, and I have them for a reason.