Trek Tales, third part

Monday morning, again, I was up with the sun in advance of our wake up call. I shimmied myself into my clothes in our tiny tent and made it to the Ma & Pa meeting.

We started the day early with a company meeting at 6:30am, and there we learned what our breakfast would be. Capt. Fisher told us about the slim food rations the handcart pioneers were reduced to--that by this point on the trail, their bodies required 4000 calories a day, but that all they had was something like 400 calories total--he held up a tiny little canvas bag (roughly 2" square) in which was 4 oz of flour, which was all the pioneers had for the entire day! Each of us was going to receive one of the flour bags and that was our breakfast.

We each made a little dough with the flour by adding a little water to it, and then we dumped that into the hot dutch oven and baked it like a little pancake. Capt Fisher had a bottle of honey and we had some leftover coconut from our dessert the night before, so the flour cakes actually weren't too bad. Fortunately for us, that wasn't our only meal for the day, but what a way to understand the plight of those pioneers.

After clean-up (which actually was hard to do--flour & water makes glue, so it was stuck pretty well to our dishes!) we had to strike camp and load up our handcart in time to make it out with the first company. We ran out of time for scripture study so once we got into line & had a quiet moment, we tried to fit it in...but we didn't get far before the line started moving.

The Trek for that morning started out on the same trail we'd already walked back & forth from the visitor's center in the days prior, but finally we turned off toward our first event of the day, which was a river crossing. We were crossing the Sweetwater, which the handcart pioneers had to do multiple times in bitter cold with a winter storm raging. As we crossed, we were asked to go on "Silence" to keep a spirit of reverence and to allow for the Spirit himself to touch us. A lovely violin played ("Come, Come, Ye Saints," I think it was) at the banks of the river as we crossed and the spirit was so sweet. One little thing that happened was that the missionary there asked that the girls not hike up their skirts out of reverence....which I fully understood...but somewhat frustratingly, he did not ask the same of the boys and allowed them to roll up their pants and a couple of our girls in particular took some offense at that and so purposely hiked up their skirts anyway. I wish he had just said that the boys should keep their pants down too and it would never have become an issue. We had changed into our water shoes so after crossing we took a little time to change back into our dry socks & shoes before trekking on.

We stopped at a monument honoring the "Valley Boys" who helped those poor struggling pioneers to cross the Sweetwater, going back and forth carrying them across that frigid water. There we heard their stories as several of the youth stood and shared each--those boys were the same ages as many of the youth there. There are 3 statues, which I think I remember the missionary said that the artist did not mean to depict specific individuals but to honor all of the rescuers.

We picked up our handcarts and continued on just a little further until we came to a nice big pavilion (and a great big row of restrooms) where there was a brunch waiting for us: bagels & cream cheese, muffins & oranges. We sat down and eagerly tore into the food until being reminded that we were in the first company--there was a second group coming who were equally hungry so leave some food for them! We finished eating and then moved out of the way for the 2nd group to come in, but we spent a lot of time just sitting around and waiting at that point. I pulled out my sketchbook and tried to do some sketches...and finally we were being called to gather in.

So it's at this point that my day kinda went downhill. I didn't realize how long we were going to be gone when we left the carts here and as we gathered in to start a long hike into Martin's Cove itself, I realized I had to use the bathroom...and there's really not a nice way to say this but let's just say it was an intestinal issue...if I had known just how far we were going and how long it was going to be until we returned to the restrooms, I'd have just run back and then caught back up with the group, but I didn't...so with everyone on Silence, I walked with the group all the way up to the first part of the cove, where there was a small amphitheatre area with benches and a flute was playing as we entered. We heard more stories about the pioneers and sang "The Spirit of God". It was all so very lovely but I was so terribly distracted by my own bodily misery...we filed out of there with our families in single file to walk through the entire cove. The walk was so slow...it was agonizing... There was a particularly special spot where "GeroniMa" (Jen, our Trail Boss) stood to point out 3 tree stumps, which are believed to be the stumps left behind when one of the pioneers, who was on the point of death, was asked by a rescuer to go chop wood--he wondered why the healthier, stronger rescuer couldn't just chop the wood himself but later realized that the rescuer saved his life by having him get up and move. I could barely stand to peek in and take a quick look at the stumps (ordinarily I would have happily lingered to notice the ax marks in the stumps) just to keep moving down the trail...I just HAD to get to a bathroom! I kept praying that I would make it but the pressure and pain was intensifying with every step. Finally at one point the line had slowed down and come to a stop and I told George what was happening and he encouraged me to just keep walking and pass everyone in line...so I did. I hurried along as fast as I could. We came out of the Cove to a hilltop where we could see the pavilion & restrooms WAY out in the distance. My heart sank seeing how incredibly far we were...but all I could do was keep trudging on. I was moving along at a good clip when I heard my friend Wendy behind me asking if she could pass since she was desperately trying to get back to the bathrooms too--I told her I was doing the same so the two of us at that point moved together as fast as we could to the front of the line. Once there we told the leaders we were in urgent need and took off...we were running at that point. Finally we made it to the restrooms...but I'm sad to say that I hadn't quite "made it". I was thankful for my long skirt at that point though since it disguised my plight...I took off the offending clothing, rolled it up and found my bucket back in the handcart. I stuck the dirty clothes in and pulled out some fresh clean underclothes and trudged back to the restrooms again.

What an ordeal--I think the trail is only 1-1/2 miles in and out of the Cove but it took f-o-r-e-v-e-r. I dealt with bathroom issues for the rest of the day but thankfully there were no more accidents. Looking back on it and when initially I wondered why my prayers hadn't been answered that I'd make it, I realized that as miserable as I had been, that was nothing next to what those pioneers had experienced day after day after day on that trail and in that cove. They were starving on those sparse rations, the winter storm and wind was unrelenting, their loved ones were dying...they didn't even have pit toilets to use. In fact, we heard from the missionary that when those people got sick with diarrhea, they rode on the sick wagon, but there wasn't time to stop for them to "go" so it was all over the sick wagon...which means it just became this horrible vicious cycle as they were re-infected time and time again. Pondering those experiences made me realize how incredibly small my own had been and gave me a renewed appreciation and love for those poor dear saints and the incredible struggles they faced.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, in addition to the potty issues, my left eye had been bothering me terribly that entire day. I must've scratched it or it just had had too much sun strain--it hurt and stung and tears streamed from it regularly. And I wasn't alone in the misery...one of our trek kids also was having some issues that day (and we'd likely shared germs somehow or eaten the same bad thing) so I was entirely sympathetic and tried to do what I could to help. All in all it gave me some small understanding of the pioneers and for that I am grateful.

We left the pavilion area and trekked with the handcarts back to the visitor's center, crossing the Veil Crossing Bridge along the way. This bridge honors the "2nd Rescue" which happened when Pres Lorimer (the stake president in this area at the time) discovered that the pioneers who had died here along the trail on their way to Zion had never had their temple work done...and so their work was finally finished. Back at the visitor's center, we unloaded our carts and while waiting for the busses to arrive, we had lunch--deli sandwiches with chips, apples & carrot sticks.

We boarded the busses with our families (had a quick Ma & Pa meeting outside the busses) and continued on to our next stop, which was a short stop at the Sixth Crossing visitor's center where the leaders & Pa's were given the BLM training for the trail we'd be hiking tomorrow. Meanwhile, the youth & Ma's waited outside and heard the story of Ephraim Hanks from a missionary in full costume. It rained on us a little bit but thankfully there were covered tables to stand under. When the rain subsided, some of the Ma's organized games for the youth--they played an EFY game (I forget the name...some silly word like ay-goo?) in which the boys line up on one side and the girls on the other, and one from each end face off walking toward each other & pass & turn, facing each other the entire way trying not to smile or laugh--if they do, they have to jump in line with the other side. It was pretty cute to watch.

At last the training ended and we filed back on the busses again to head to our campground for the night--it was Jade Campground. We had new handcarts waiting for us and piled our buckets in, walked down the hill & found our campsite (which lucky for us this time was close to the food & meeting areas). We set up camp and ate a delicious dinner of beef stew. It was while eating the stew that Recneps got his name... A friend of another one of our boys (Ox) walked by and called out to him, saying his name backwards...so that led to all of us there in our site thinking about & sharing our own names backwards--Recneps said his with such gusto that it made all of us laugh out loud and we couldn't stop laughing about it.

As we met for our company meeting that evening, there were storm clouds gathering all around us and the wind was cold. We put on our coats and kept our rain ponchos handy. As the meeting was underway, we saw lightning. Brother Rasmussen sang a lovely song and a youth stood up to share another pioneer story--it was then that the rain started to come down. That poor young man up there kept telling his story, though his paper was being pummeled by rain and he could barely read it and the rest of us sat there huddled trying to listen amid the torrent of rain and wind. He finished and Capt Fisher stood up--he gave us a few last instructions and adjourned the meeting to send us back to our tents. Unfortunately due to the storm, we weren't able to hold our evening reflection (and we still hadn't even finished our scripture study from earlier that morning!)

We had a little incident that night--earlier while at the area waiting during the training, I was talking with one of the other Ma's who told me that 2 of our kids were up very late the previous night and had wandered into their camp, which is against the rules. I'm still not sure what the truth was but I have a feeling something did happen, it was just with other kids that she was confusing with ours...but because of that, after I had discussed it briefly with Capt Fisher, we had pulled aside each of those kids to say something to them about it...but when I did, it came out more as an accusation than an investigation, which rightly George rebuked me for. I had already been a little upset about something else I'd overheard earlier that evening from that same girl so I was letting my feelings get the better of me. He reminded me that when he was a teen, he was more similar to the "borderline" kids than the "good" kids...he reminded me that we needed to not push them away by dealing with them unkindly, that it was a good thing that they had chosen to come on Trek even if their hearts weren't in it the same way some of the other kids were. I thought about that throughout that night and in the morning, I apologized to the girl and never brought up the incident again...and as far as I know there were no more "sneaking out" incidents either. I am thankful for George's insight and deeply sorry for what I'd done.

That was a rough day but again, through the misery, the storm & the incident, I think we all learned to have that much more appreciation for the pioneers.