Pioneer Children sang as they walked and walked...

I’m back and I’m ALIVE! I know! Something of a miracle as it turns out. But, I’ll get to that later… Let’s start at the very beginning, that’s a very fine place to start (cue Julie Andrews, sound of music…) Pre-dawn, light rain falling, Dede arrives and we’re off to the church. A bit of confusion at the church while we try to hand out “medicine bags” to each participant and get nametags handed out. Then on to the Stake house for the prayer meeting and big bus loading. We crammed onto 5 busses and headed to the Deseret Land and Livestock drop off point.

We had one stop at the rest area for a potty break. Yah, you can imagine what that was like- 5 busses packed to the brim with pioneer costumed folk, mingling with a bus load of oriental tourists and a few other foreigners thrown in for good measure. One man from Australia asked to have his photo taken with a group of us women as we waited to use the empty men’s room. We tried to explain that we don’t normally dress that way, but I’m sure he’ll return home and brag about how he had a photo op with a bunch of polygamist Mormon women. One of the oriental tourists with a massive camera and zoom lens seemed to think he was pretty clever as he headed to the waiting tour bus and turned to snap off a few quick pics of the cult women waiting to pee.

It rained the entire drive and didn’t stop when we arrived. After disembarking we broke into color coded groups and then into individual “families”. Each family had a “ma & pa” and a combination of 7 children and usually one “other”. I was one of the others, as a “trail walker”. My family had a pretty authentic looking ma/pa. They do regular horse packing trips in the summer and go bear hunting every year (no kidding). They were fantastic! She is a school teacher and he works at the cement plant. No nonsense people, but really prepared, kind and able to get the best out of each of the kids in the group.

We were supposed to go between 11-12 miles that first day. But, due to the extended potty break, the weather, and very muddy roads we made it 6 miles and had to regroup. We set up camp because they couldn’t take the portapotties any further due to the mud. We pulled off the road amidst the sagebrush and cowpies and pulled the handcarts into a semblance of a circle and proceeded to set up our tents. The rain lessened for part of the evening but continued steady all night long. I know because I could never go to sleep. There were a number of adults up in the night trying to get tents set back up that had collapsed and deal with wet kids. It was one LONG night. We got up in the morning to a sopping campsite. I would say that the majority of tents had at least one person who got completely wet. In our little family all 4 of the girls got soaked and two of the three boys as well. The ma got wet too. I was fortunate and only ended up with the foot of my bag getting wet. Three of the 4 girls in our group have issues with asthma and I was concerned that as the day continued they would get sick. The Stake spent a considerable amount of time deliberating on what exactly to do. One of the girls in our group Kilee, hadn’t wanted to come in the first place and she brought forth her so to be oft repeated phrases , I want to go home. “Do you think we’ll get to go home? I want to go home. How far do you think we’ll have to walk? I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. Yeah, it got old fast.

The final consensus was that we would eat breakfast set up some drying tents and see how the day went. It actually stopped raining for most of the morning and we set wet stuff out to dry in the sun and wind all along the fence posts and draped over sagebrush. We went on a 5-6mile hike (sans carts)and then had the skits and hoe down in the evening. The kids were actually really great (other than Miss” I want to go home”, and even she found a friend to hang out and bemoan her sad fate). That night after much adjustments people slept mostly dry and we got up early to set out.

Friday was the “big” day. We organized, packed, and set off. We hiked about 6 miles and then a representative from the “Army” came and gave us the information that Brigham Young had requested that all able bodied men were to report to the Mormon Battalion. We moved on a little farther and the men left. They then had us sit around and wait for a bit, then shared some handcart stories (as we got colder and colder in the wind and rain). Once we were thoroughly chilled they said “OK, let’s begin the women’s pull.” We were missing one of our girls as she had had a massive double nose bleed and so couldn’t pull. We had 2 - 13 year old girls, one 15 year old, our Ma, Toni and me. We started out straight up hill with slimy, rocky steep road, wind and rain blowing in our faces. Let me just say that I had NO idea how incredibly hard it would be. I have always been very strong for a woman and been able to do more than most. I was immediately out of breath, exerting all my might and it seemed like it would never end. Several times I thought I could not go even one step more or I would pass out. My vision started to black around the edges and narrow in and I thought “Maybe I should stop.” Then I thought, if I stop Kilee will stop and then our hand cart will have to stop. And we are 3 out of 20 some carts and we will hold them all back. So, I continued to push. Let me just say, it was hell. Once we got to the top I immediately began to cough uncontrollably until I thought I would vomit. I tried to catch my breath and go back to help some of the other carts. (Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly). I went about 20 yards back down and tried to help with another cart. I went a few steps and my body immediately let me know that it wasn’t happening. I struggled back up to the top and spent the next half hour trying to get my breathing under control. I was shaking, trembling and gasping the entire time. The men rejoined us and we got to eat our cold bread and jam huddled under the handcart before we set off on the last 6 miles before we set up camp.

Once we arrived in camp the Stake was supposed to have dinner ready for us. 2 ½ hours later they rang the dinner bell and all 300 of us stood in the cold drizzle waiting for dinner. I felt sick to my stomach and thought I’d be fine once I had some warm food in me. Not so. I ate and promptly threw it all up. I went to my tent and realized that I was cold. Duh. Apparently the gortex army coat I had on, had repelled the water on the outside but had also kept the sweat I had generated on the inside and I was soaked clear through. I went back to the tent and tried get out of my cold, wet clothing into dry. Long story “somewhat” shorter, the Dr. said I had hypothermia and brought in a catalytic converter, hand warmers, foot warmers and hot tea to try and get my body temp back up. It took a good hour and a half before I could really feel anything other than massive shivers and a cold core. Good times indeed.

Sat. morning, we woke up to falling snow. The Dr. told me I couldn’t hike out the last 5 miles I had to ride in the car. I felt like I had failed. But realized as I got winded just trying to stuff my sleeping bag into it’s duffle that he was probably right. I’m still trying to figure out for sure what all I was supposed to learn from that. Number one, as I struggled up that hill, I thought. “HOW did gg grandma Esther do it?!?” How did they all do it? It is amazing plain and simple. I have been running, and walking for months. I “thought” I was in shape. I KNOW I was in better shape than a lot of those women. Did I exert more? Am I just getting old? What?!? I think I’m “supposed” to learn to have more empathy for those who aren’t as strong, who face challenges, who can’t do. I don’t appear to be taking it very gracefully though. I’ve got some pride issues. I don’t want to have to ask for help. I want to be able to do things on my own. Yeah.

So. I rode back to the drop off point and waited for the trekkers to come in. I was exhausted. I kept weeping at random moments. It was in incredible, hard, spiritual, humbling, harrowing experience. There are a lot more things that happened. I got close to some people I hadn’t even known. I found out some personal limits and need to pay attention to what my body tries to tell me whether I want to hear it or not. Am I glad I did it? Yes. Will I do it again? Doubtful. Was it really worth it? Ask me again in a month.