The Trek

For at least the last six months, Jay and I have known that we would be spending four days dressed like pioneers and leading a group of teenagers and a handcart across the wildnerness in an activity known as a trek.  

If you are a member of the LDS church, you probably know what a trek is. For those who are not, the idea is probably very bizarre.  I know when I told the women who attend the same bookclub as me what I would be doing the third week of June, most were bewildered as to  the "why?"

I think there are a lot of "why"s.  For me, it was because I was asked and because my husband really, really wanted to do it.  I've been a member of my faith me entire life and it's fair to say that I took for granted the stories and history of the early mormon pioneers.  Knowing the names and details has never been very important to me.  Instead, I let myself be content with the more general "it was hard and they were brave" summary.

My greatest worry about being a "ma" for this experience was the pressure I felt to be a strength and not a burden to the youth assigned to my family.  Knowing it would be a challenge both physically and emotionally (I have had an aversion to teenagers since the moment I stopped being one), I was most concerned that many of the spiritual moments would not be fully utilized if I wasn't better prepared to understand the parallel experiences those in charge were attempting to re-create.   I use Jay's gift of memory and his zeal for pioneer stories as a crutch, but did read The Price We Paid to prepare myself.

Upon arrival, I felt butterflies in my stomach.  In my blue bonnet and skirt, I longed to hang back and put off the transformation of myself into "Ma."  But, as I looked around, I noticed most of the teenagers looked even more uncomfortable to me so I flipped on my uncomfortable switch, and gathered my new kids together for introductions and fun get-to-know-you games.

Jay and I were a great team.  I never had to concern myself with any part of the handcart.  Early on, he drummed up enthusiasm with his contagious love of pioneer history.  I channeled my former student council self and quickly depleted my ideas for name games and bonding moments.  It seemed like we'd never get started....but then.....

Wagons- ho!

Each person was allowed one five-gallon bucket for clothes, scriptures, toiletries, eating utensils and one plastic trash bag filled with a coat, sleeping bag and blanket.  

Able to stand back and take pictures while Jay gets the family working together on assembling the handcart.

Unlike historical handcarts, we had canvas covers to help keep all of our stuff in.

Our family zigzagging from left to right:
Nicole, Brian, me, Tierra, Brandon, Kerby, Darien, Derek, Sassie, Tyler, Becca, Jay and Alex.

I could tell right away that we had GREAT kids.  Everyone was genuine and happy to help and no one was complaining.  I could tell that one of the girls wasn't over enthused about being there and the likelihood of getting dirty, but she didn't whine about it so I watched and waited to see what the experience would be for her.  

Getting started

Our wheel came loose right away.  Thankfully, this fix did the trick and we had no more worries the rest of the time.

The first day was a purposely long day.  We didn't get started until well past 1:00 in the afternoon and there was lots of stopping and waiting.  As everyone was getting to know each other, most of the breaks were welcome and spent playing more games.  

As the day turned into evening and the evening turned into night, the playfulness transformed into fatigue and some impatience from not knowing when we were going to stop.  Most everyone had heard that the first day included a "big hill" and the sun was long gone before we got to that part in the trek.

It was hard.  As I remember if physically, I can remember thinking, "I can do this.  We get breaks just when I need them and I am going to be able to do this."  During each pull and push, I'd get to the point where my heart was beating too fast for comfort.  I never wanted to be the out-of-shape "ma" that had to hold back the much more fit teenagers with my heavy breathing, and I'm happy to report that I never had to be.  A much needed break always came at the right time and as hard as it was, I made it.

After the first big hill, which was deeply rutted and windy, we approached a station where leaders borrowed the ropes that tied onto the front of the handcarts used for pulling from those that were waiting to ascend the final steep section up to camp.   As we reached the front position, an additional two rope systems were added to our handcart to enable more people to pull the handcart up.  There were probably a dozen extra bodies helping us get up that hill and as we reached the top, I started to involuntarily cry because I had never felt so sick and tired from over exertion.  I was completely spent and felt my spirit murmur about how ridiculously hard those in charge had made the first day.  

Grumpy, tired and totally nauseated, I felt a prompting to pray.  The few members of my trek family that were around had already crawled into their sleeping bags to sleep.  The others were either back down the hill to help others up or getting a bowl of soup to eat.  Knowing there wouldn't be a better time, I knelt down on my sleeping bag and understood that this trek was going to be an eye-opener for me.

Becca rests while we wait to start on the hill.

I wish I could have taken pictures of the hill.  some of the kids went back and saw the really steep section the next morning.  I went down the hill for awhile, but realized with every step down, I was going to have to come back up and I was still very, very tired from the day before and a night of absolutely NO sleep.  This is the last part of the path to camp, the cruel not-at-all steep but still uphill part that followed "the hill".

What camp looked like the morning after.  Not very organized when you are setting up at 12:30 am. 

Each morning, we gathered as a family for a devotional and scriptures.  Even though we had all known each other for only a day, the feelings for each other were warm and loving.

A day of sweat and bonnet wearing was not kind to me.  Becca, a master braider, helped me with my hair.

After only a short pull, each handcart company was stopped and asked to assemble to a gathering place.

There, the men were asked to leave their families and help their government.  It was an extremely emotional moment.  Many were in tears knowing the hard day ahead of us.

The boys took the buckets from the handcart to lighten the load and followed the officer.  

We girls were left with the handcart, our bedding and water and the resolve to get it done, just the six of us.

Again, it was a very, very hard pull.  The road we followed was uphill the entire way, with many switchbacks, and there were times it felt like I was the only person pulling that handcart.  I know it isn't true, but it must be what each girl in my family and in the entire group felt.  Those handcarts are 500 pounds.  They are heavy and hard to pull.  We took breaks and had some timely help along the way from some silent helpers.  The lessons learned from this experience are personal and extremely buoying.  

Later that day, we reached what became known as "Base Camp" and had an afternoon to play pioneer games and get ready for an evening hoe-down.  I thought asking us to participate in anything physical was a bit presumptuous, but again, teenagers have an energy that's contagious.

I did participate in the hair washing station.  It felt nice, but as I was one of the last women to use the water, I think I would have been better off to have just kept my braids.

We set up our own campsite and finally got to cook our own meal.  It was a lot of fun working together and our kids did everything!

Jay and I doing the reel at the hoe-down.

The third day of the trek included no hiking.  It was planned as a spiritual day and after a morning family devotional, all of the kids were given over an hour in what was referred to as solo time.  We walked up to an area as a family and then we spread out and had time to read scriptures, pray, write in journals or just think.  The views were amazing and I really enjoyed the quiet time to reflect.  There was an afternoon fireside with Elder Webb from the seventy and that evening we played games, exchanged personal information to keep in touch and ended with a family testimony meeting.  I was amazed by the things I heard.  That night convinced me that every penny and every minute spent planning and carrying out large scale events like this are worth it.  These youth are bombarded on every side with hard and heavy things.  Seeing them lift each other up and share how much they need to know that they are not alone touched me.  

The view from the area we had solo time.  Back together again!

The boys relax in what became known as our condo:)

Jay tiding up after our last family dinner of turkey and potatoes

The last morning started early with a sunrise devotional.  We had to wake the kids up at 5:30 to watch the sunrise.  I hope they enjoyed this moment.

Last look at the condo before we pulled down camp.  

Impromptu game of Ninja played by our boys.  

Pioneer dress may not be the most flattering, but it sure was functional!  I had no problem sporting a skirt, bloomers and bonnet for four days.  I think Jay looks ruggedly handsome by day 4:)

The dust was noxious on the way down.  This is how you brake a handcart.

At the pick-up spot right before saying good-bye.  We really felt like a family at this point and I love these kids.

Alex and Nicole sum it up perfectly.

If you ever have a chance to be on a trek as a ma or pa....go. If you have youth that have an opportunity to go on a trek....send them.

I had an amazing experience that I will treasure forever.