The biggest recent event for me was the stake youth pioneer trek. I was called and set apart to be an “aunt” for the trek. We spent 3 days and 2 nights out in the wilderness southwest of Utah Lake reenacting the experiences of the Mormon pioneer handcart companies. We wore pioneer clothing, ate pioneer food, sang pioneer songs, and pushed pioneer hand carts. Everything we packed for the trek, except our sleeping bags and pillows, had to fit into a 5 gallon bucket. That was not an easy task. I admit I rolled up my PJs into my sleeping bag because I couldn’t get them into my bucket. :) We were assigned to families with a Pa, a Ma, about 9 children, and an aunt or uncle. Our family was great. It was so fun to get to know them so closely through our experiences together.
We walked a total of about 20 miles in 3 days. That’s not too terribly far, but we did have to push the hand cart with all our belongings for all 20 miles. The first day we had many casualties. Two people sprained their ankles and many had really bad blisters. The sweet Karen speaking kids -- refugees from Myanmar -- have never really worn shoes before, and their feet really suffered. We had 2 sweet girls in our “family” that had been given donated shoes to wear. One of them was walking in shoes that were 2 sizes too small! Every one of her toes, both heels, and the soles of her feet had blisters. But, they smiled the whole time and never complained. I ended up literally carrying them to the first aid truck because they could no longer walk. That night at camp they invited me to eat with them. And when it was decided that they needed to go home, they hugged me and hugged me when we said goodbye. They were so sweet and such good examples.
One of the most emotional and spiritual experiences on trek was when the men were taken away on the second day to serve in the Mormon Battalion. The women were left to pull the carts alone through the most difficult part of the trail. Usually to get the carts to move, 4 people pulled on the handles in the front and 4 people pushed from behind. But, many of our families only had 3 or 4 women left after losing so many kids the first day. We knew right away it would be a struggle. As we watched the men march away, one of the leaders told us the story of a woman who was not even LDS but had come across the plains because her husband, who had joined the church, asked her to. She loved him and she trusted him, so she went. He died on the journey, leaving her to pull their cart with their 7 children. Within 21 days of her husband’s death, 5 of their children also died. And yet, she continued on to the Salt Lake Valley, finishing the journey her husband had believed in. Of course, that story caused all of us to start our women’s pull with our hearts full of emotion.
The women’s pull was hard. We pulled in total silence for a quarter mile so we could think about the difficulties the pioneer women had faced. The lead hand cart struggled so much to pull through the deep sand that they had to stop and signal for help. I left my family because we had 5 women, and I ran up to the lead cart to help them. They were all in tears when I started to help them pull. As we approached the top of the hill we were climbing, we saw the men lined up on either side of the trail. As we pushed and pulled through, exhausted, thirsty, and out of breath, the men began to hum “The Spirit of God”. The spirit was so strong. For the women, it was incredible to experience the strength of the priesthood in this very literal way. And for the men, it was an awakening to love and respect they have for the women in their lives and their silent strength. The testimonies borne after this experience brought tears to my eyes.
I loved the opportunity to associate with everyone on trek. The youth have so much power to do good. And the Ma’s and Pa’s set such good examples as they worked together and supported one another. We all got extremely dirty, tired, eaten by mosquitos, rained on, wind blown, and blistered, but we had a blast. I danced and sang and told jokes with the kids. We cried when family members, including me, “died” and had to leave the family. We celebrated when we all made it to the “Salt Lake Valley” and were reunited with our “families”. It was a wonderful experience. I am grateful I was asked to participate.
