Journey of a Lifetime

The husband and I recently returned

from a Pioneer Trek re-enactment with the youth of our stake.

Best. Trek. Ever.

The leaders of our stake were truly inspired as they pulled this whole thing together. It was a privilege for me to take part in this and to be a Ma to some incredibly amazing youth. Plus, I loved spending three whole days with the husband.

In order to honor tradition, I shall now recount my trek experience by numbers. Like last time. (that's the honoring tradition part)

375 youth participating in the trek

29 handcarts

41 youth attending from our ward

13 adult leaders from our ward who trekked the entire time with the youth

4 families in our ward

9 kids in our family

5 o'clock am meeting time to prepare for departure

25 miles covered over the course of two days

3 kids in our ward lifted up on the cart to ride as a result of very sore bodies

15 miles covered the first day

23 mph wind gusts as we attempted to set up camp

89 degree high the first day

100s of cactus needles pulled out of legs/arms/buttockses

0 problems with rattle snakes

10 scorpions killed while setting up camp the second day

3 cans of bug repellent emptied by spraying around the exterior and interior perimeters of our tent in hopes of keeping out those pinchy buggers

75 gallons of water consumed by our thirsty family

100 days spent reading The Book of Mormon cover to cover prior to embarking on the trek

1 woman forever changed by acting on a promise from an inspired bishop to commit to change something with this reading of the book (more on this later)

89 points scored by BYU basketball team to secure a win over Gonzaga and a spot in the sweet 16

4 packages of mole skin completely emptied and used up on the feet of our little family

0 children lost forever along the way (only a couple temporarily lost)

8 happy mommy feet after hot stone pedicures upon returning from the trek

0 regrets of time spent on the hot dusty cactusy trail

54+ people who share a special secret that will bond them together forever

Witness

Are you up for a buffalo story? Good. I thought so.

There's a palpable excitement that accompanies a Pioneer Handcart Trek. We felt it while waiting for our "family" to arrive. As our youth stepped off the buses, decked in their authentic pioneer costumes, the husband and I were anxious to meet our little crew. Once we were gathered and introduced, our family was allowed to familiarize ourselves with our handcart. The carts were loaded and the pulling began.

The trails we walked were forest service roads. They were rutty and rocky, but roads nonetheless. And we were grateful for roads. There was an occasional rise, but the first 3 miles was relatively easy and uneventful as we became acquainted with the rhythm of the cart.

Nearing the end of the third mile, a rider on horseback galloped up alongside us to warn us that there were hunters in the area. No sooner had we been warned than we heard a gunshot that punctuated the sounds of youth singing at the bars of their carts. We were invited to lay down our carts and move to a clearing where four men busied themselves, gutting a large buffalo.

We encouraged our family to gather around. There was a reverence in the air. A reverence for life, for the sacrifice of the great buffalo. As the other youth continued to leave the train of handcarts and stream into the clearing, gasps and exclamations dotted the air. Soon a gentleman stepped forward and began to share, in first person, the account of Ephraim Hanks as follows:

In the fall of 1856, Ephraim was staying at the home of a friend, about nineteen miles south of Salt Lake City. He had gone to bed but while he still lay wide awake in his bed, he heard a voice calling him by name and then saying, “The handcart people are in trouble and you are wanted; will you go and help them?” He turned toward the direction from which the sound had come and saw a man standing in the room. Without hesitation he answered, “Yes, I will go if I am called.” Then he turned to go to sleep, but had laid only a few minutes when the voice called a second time, repeating almost the same words as on the first occasion. His answer was the same as before. It was then repeated a third time. When Eph got up in the morning he said to his friend, “The handcart people are in trouble, and I have promised to go help them.” Then he hurried to Salt Lake and immediately left to help the immigrants.

He related the following, “The terrific storm which caused the immigrants so much suffering and loss overtook me near the South Pass, where I stopped for about three days with Reddick Allred, who had come out with provisions for the immigrants. One night as I was preparing to make a bed in the snow with the few articles that my pack animal carried for me, I thought how comfortable a buffalo robe would be on such an occasion, and also how I would relish a little buffalo meat for supper, and before lying down for the night I was instinctively led to ask the Lord to send me a buffalo. Now, I am a firm believer in the efficacy of prayer, for I have on many occasions asked the Lord for blessings which He in His mercy has bestowed upon me. But when after praying I looked around me and spied a buffalo within fifty yards of my camp, my surprise was complete; I had certainly not expected so immediate an answer to my prayer. However, I soon collected myself and was not at a loss what to do. Taking deliberate aim at the animal, my first shot brought him down; he made a few jumps only, and then rolled down into the very hollow where I was camped. I was soon busily engaged skinning my game, finishing which, I spread the hide on the snow and placed my bed upon it. I next prepared supper, eating tongue and other choice parts of the animal I had killed.

“Early the next morning I was on my way again, and soon reached what is known as the Ice Springs Bench. There I happened on a herd of buffalo and I killed one. I was impressed to do this, although I did not know why until a few hours later, but the thought occurred to my mind that the hand of the Lord was in it, as it was a rare thing to find buffalo herds around that place at this late part of the season. I skinned and dressed it, then cut up part of its meat in long strips and loaded it on my horses. Then I resumed my journey, and traveled on towards evening. I think the sun was about an hour high on the West when I spied something in the distance that looked like a black streak in the snow. As I got near it, I perceived it moved; then I was satisfied that this was the long looked for handcart company, led by Captain Edward Martin. I reached the ill-fated train just as the immigrants were camping for the night. The sight that met my gaze as I entered their camp can never be erased from my memory. The starved forms and haggard countenances of the poor sufferers, as they moved about slowly, shivering with cold, to prepare their scanty evening meal was enough to touch the stoutest heart. When they saw me coming, they hailed me with joy inexpressible, and when they further beheld the supply of fresh meat I brought into camp, their gratitude knew no bounds. Flocking around me, one would say, ‘Oh please, give me a small piece of meat.’ Another would exclaim, ‘My poor children are starving, do give me a little,’ and children with tears in their eyes would call out, ‘Give me some, give me some.’ At first I tried to wait on them and handed out the meat as they called for it; but finally I told them to help themselves. Five minutes later both my horses had been released of their extra burden- the meat was all gone, and the next few hours found the people in camp busily engaged in cooking and eating it, with thankful hearts.

“A prophecy had been made by one of the brethren that the company should feast on buffalo meat when their provisions might run short; my arrival in their camp, loaded with meat, was the beginning of the fulfillment of that prediction.”

After Ephraim arrived at camp, a woman walked by him, crying aloud. He followed her to Daniel Tyler’s wagon where she told of her husband being at the point of death. She asked Elder Tyler to come and administer to him. This good brother, tired and weary was he was, after pulling handcarts all day, had just retired for the night, and was a little reluctant in getting up, but he went with the woman. Ephraim went also and when they arrived at her tent they found the apparently lifeless form of her husband. On seeing him, Elder Tyler remarked, “I cannot administer to a dead man,” and he went back to bed. Ephraim Hanks went back to the camp and asked Elders Grant and Kimball and one or two others to help him. They warmed some water and washed the dying man from head to foot. Then Ephraim anointed him with consecrated oil over his whole body, after which they laid their hands on him and commanded him in the name of Jesus Christ to breathe and live. The effect was instantaneous. The man who was dead to all appearances immediately began to breathe, sat up in bed and began to sing a hymn. His wife, unable to control her feeling of joy and thankfulness ran through the camp exclaiming, “My husband was dead but now is alive, praise be the name of God. The man who brought the buffalo meat has healed him.”

When the account was concluded, we dispersed, without a sound and returned to our carts. I felt a tangible spirit surrounding the gathering. I teared up throughout the retelling- maybe because I have a cousin who is a descendant of Eprhraim Hanks- who is acutally named Ephraim Hanks-and this recounting connected with me on a personal level. Or maybe just because the story is amazing in and of itself and testifies of the love of God. Whatever the reason, I felt the spirit testify of the miracle of the buffalo.

And I was to feel the spirit testify of many more miracles throughout the remainder of the trek.

Numbers

photos courtesy of Sandi Nielson

The husband and I have recently returned from our Stake Youth Handcart Trek. It was a never-to-be-forgotten experience- one that I felt was tailored just for me. My testimony of Jesus Christ grew exponentially and my desire to follow him has strengthened. I would love to share all of it with you, but I know that would make for some monster-long posts. Instead I will highlight by numbers.

200 youth participated in the trek

15 families

16 handcarts

8 kids in our family (ours was the smallest family on the trek)

1 big brother in our family

4 girls in our family

5 boys in our family

350 pounds our kids pulled for four days

25 feet of rope to secure our belongings

1 buffalo gutted and skinned

400 feet in elevation up the mountain the women pulled the handcart on our own

500 infamous beef sticks consumed the first day

11 hours of pulling the handcart on day one

18 miles traveled the first day

2.5 hours of pulling in the pitch dark

3 tents our family set up at 9:30 pm

25 degree weather while setting up camp

2 members of our family who "died" during the night

1 member of our family with a terribly sore hamstring

3 miles pulling the handcart before we reached the valley

8 enjoyable pioneer games/ skills/ dances learned

3 stitches in the finger of our pioneer daughter

400 pioneer boots kicking up dust at the hoedown

10 foil blankets employed by our family during the night

1 Pony Express rider

8 activities that taught gospel principles

2 hours of solo time, spent reading scriptures, recording feelings, reflecting on the events of the trek and the changes taking place inside each individual

1,000's of tears shed when sharing tender feelings

1 mile pulled the last day

0 complaints from the husband who had a broken rib for the entire trek

100 families waiting to welcome their youth at the finish line

0 phones/ ipods/ cameras confiscated from our family

1,600 photos taken by the official trek photographer

11 strangers that came together as a family and were forever changed by this experience

3 hour drive home to discuss and bear testimony with the husband of the magnitude of the experience we shared

3 happy children, running with hugs for their pioneer parents

4 large blisters on the feet, lanced and bandaged

25 minutes spent in the shower in an attempt to wash off all the dirt

Pioneer Time

Won't you please excuse me for a few days whilst I go and trek around in the wilderness with a few 14-18 year olds? And a handcart.

I shall return with good stories full of humor and hopefully a little insight on life and the gospel- oh and those pioneers.

While I am gone, talk amongst yourselves. Visit some of my friends on my sidebar. They are all good people and should be able to fill in nicely while I am away.

How to Prevent Children from Running Away

Oldest daughter has threatened to run away. For the 5th time this week. And who can blame her? After all, I did pick her up in the bike trailer from school. And I am also guilty of taking her to Girl Scouts this afternoon. Oh, and I consented to letting her have a sucker. Plus, I spent my usual 2 hours helping in her classroom today- just like every Tuesday.

But I wonder where she even picked up that "I'm gonna run away" phrase. Very original. I can remember using that one on my own mom and she usually countered with "Let me know when you are going to pack your bags and I will help you."

I just don't know how to respond to my own daughter. It's a tricky little manipulative corner these sneaky kids back us into.

What I think she is really saying is:

I'm sick of the pile of laundry in the loft.

Because whenever I look at that pile, the first thought on my mind is "I'm gonna run away."

I used to have a great system for laundry. I did one load every day- two, if necessary- and I was able to keep up on the laundry. This was successful for just over a year. And then I got pregnant- and way sick. And the system was thrown off. And I have not been able to get on top of it again in the past year. And it's driving me crazy.

But that is neither here nor there, for what will I do with a runaway daughter? I don't know.

But I do know this: when it comes down to it and she is ready to run, we will have a difficult time packing her little wheelie suitcase- because there are no clean clothes in her drawers- they are all in a pile in the loft. So, here is my theory: she will get so frustrated sorting through the clothes to pack her little bag that she will give up on the running away. Because, hey, it's easier to put up with the meanest of mean moms than to have to sort out the Mt. Everest of laundry hanging out in the loft.

Problem solved.

OK, OK, I confess- I am purposely failing at laundry in an attempt to retain my children.

And now I am off to bed so that I may awake at 5:45 a.(crazy)m. so that I might continue my effort to shape myself up for this pioneer trek. And then I will walk. Because, really, all I want in life is to be an awesome walker! (and to figure out why blogger does some of the annoying things that it does whenever i add a pic or center a phrase. aaarrrgghhhh!!!! yes, and that)

In Which We Walk

This morning the husband and I awoke the children before dawn. On a Saturday. It was the morning of the Pioneer Trek Fun Walk- a walk to make sure we are prepared for the actual trek and up to the task of walking. Funly.

We slipped newly purchased Crocs on six tiny feet and pushed chilly arms through the long sleeves of jackets and we were on our way.

We made one stop to pick up a young man and young woman in our ward, who happen to be siblings, and hopped on the freeway to the trailhead. As we journeyed, the husband recounted to our little riders the story of a pioneer whose life truly inspired us as we watched a DVD depiction of it last Sunday evening. Maybe you have seen it. It is called Only a Stonecutter. And it is amazing.

We arrived at the walking site, wagon and stroller in tow. The husband manned the wagon, while I manned the stroller. (for some must push and some must pull) And we began walking. For 4 miles we walked. And we were supposed to complete the walk within an hour.

As we started out on the trail, the morning air was crisp and I watched my little brood. And my heart was warmed instantly. I love these people.

Oldest daughter took over stroller duty and ran most of the way while little son enjoyed the ride. Middle daughter sat snuggled with blankets in the wagon as the husband chauffeured her cute little highness. And we continued like this for the majority of the walk.

We caught up to the young lady we had picked up that morning, her brother long past her, and found she was struggling a bit, so we slowed our pace and encouraged her on. We remained by her side for the remainder of our little trek, sharing stories and dreams of the utltimate prom dress (her dreams, not mine) and drank our little water. And we tried to keep up with oldest daughter who seemed to have in her backpack endless energy for this walk.

I was itching to go a bit faster, but determined to see this young woman finish the walk. Her brother came back to lend encouragement and walked the last 1/4 mile alongside his sister. We finished the walk in 1 hour 11 minutes. And it was a victory for this cute young woman with prom dreams. I don't believe she has ever accomplished such a feat. And I could have hugged her brother for coming to rescue her.

And I must add that I incorporated the stretches you all suggested and I believe that they did help. My legs held up beautifully.Thank you for your wisdom.

And now I am off to plant tomatoes and strawberries, onions and peppers in my garden. And the husband will plant the lime tree.

What a glorious day.

Request

The husband and I have been asked to participate in our stake's youth handcart trek. We are excited. Really. (we kind of campaigned for this position- short of printing signs for election) The husband knows people- and he recommended us. And so we are preparing ourselves for the 4 day 3 night excursion to take place mid-March.

I have been working out. Because, well, it would not do for me to ask the kids to load me up in that handcart and pull me along with all their supplies. I don't think. It would be better (and a lot less embarrassing) if I were a bit in shape and able to walk all those miles of my own accord. So I have been using that elliptical machine that has been acting as a beautiful sculpture in our loft these many months. And it has proved to be a worthy work-out partner. As long as I can watch a good show while I am ellipticizing. Because if I can't watch a good show, I just get bored.

And for a little over two weeks I have worked out every day- except Sunday. I am feeling pretty good about what I have accomplished. I have also found myself a walking partner. We have determined to walk 3 miles every MWF at 6:00 a.m. And we have gone twice so far. And both times we have been hindered due to my little calf muscles. I just don't know what is up with them. All along the side of my lower leg- from my ankle up to my knee- my muscle tightens and has prohibited us from an excellent walk. It pulls so tight that it feels like it could snap.

So, I am wondering how to warm up this muscle. Does anyone have great pointers? Because I want to able to walk in the mornings. And the trek is fast approaching. And I believe you are all a bit smarter in the workout department than I am. So- help! Please...