We did it, we trekked.
JB and I left our children for almost four days and four nights to be with the youth of our ward and stake for a Pioneer Trek in central Wyoming. It was incredible.
This is the second time JB and I have had the opportunity to go on Trek. (see quick post from four years ago
here and pictures
here).
We left early Wednesday morning on three school buses and several trucks and trailers with our gear and food. One of our first stops was Independence Rock.
They told us people coming west on the Oregon and Mormon Trails knew they had to be to this point by July 4th, hence Independence Rock. Many pioneers scratched their names into the rock. JB and many others scampered up to the top. I did not. I may not be pregnant this trek like I was four years ago, but I still didn't see the need. This was JB's view on the way up.
By 3 that afternoon we arrived at the Martin's Cove Center. This is where you pick up your handcarts, get your stuff loaded, then trek 3 miles to the campgrounds.
When we arrived, black clouds gathered up....and just after JB and I got the tent up, it started POURING, with lightening, thunder, and then sideways hail. We all took refuge in the trailers to wait it out.
When the skies cleared we were ready to eat the first of many great dutch oven meals. It's amazing how hungry you get in the outdoors.
This was our camping group. The youth were all placed in groups of 7-8 with a Ma and Pa. That's what we did four years ago. This time, as bishop, JB was a captain of a youth group, and we were the Ma and Pa of these adults. Basically we were in charge of bringing supplies and information for these other leaders. We had two members of the stake presidency and their wives in our group, plus two other bishops and their wives.
The skies were beautiful.
Thursday we trekked to
Martin's Cove. This is where the members of the Martin Handcart Company of 1856 tried to find shelter when a fierce October snowstorm hit them on their way west.
You could feel the somber spirit of the place where so many people died.
I think we walked 6 miles on Thursday. After Martin's Cove, we got back on the school buses and drove an hour west to the Willie Center. This is where the Willie Handcart Company spent their tragic days when that October snowstorm hit. When we got to our campground, another rainstorm hit, with more hail.
But that soon cleared and we were putting up tents again. I will admit I got cranky hungry (hangry), because we were helping others put up tents and forgot to get new charcoal on our dutch ovens. I ate my lasagna warm-ish with crunchy noodles, but the others waited for it to keep cooking.
The next day was our long day. A 10-miler on the trails around Willie's meadow and the Sweetwater River. We crossed it 3 times. The last time, we all played in the water. Last time JB was dragged in, this time, he walked in with the young men and said "Dunk me, I'm yours."
Then he just laid down and relaxed.
It's a game each trek to dunk the leaders. Here they all are chil-axin' in the water afterward.
I stayed out of the water, instead, I hunkered down behind the outhouses to do some pumping for my baby I left behind. I would do this during any extended break along the trail.
Our friends and neighbors the Thorntons were in charge of the whole thing, and they did such a great job. Here's JB with Greg, and me with Cindy:
Here's just our ward's youth and leaders that went:
The picture of the whole group (150? 200 people?) is very impressive. On Saturday we drove back on the buses. It seemed to take so long, but finally, at 4:10 PM, we pulled back into our stake center parking lot in Salt Lake City to a big welcoming crew, including my boys below, holding signs and roses for me, with their amazing, loving Nonna behind them in the pink shirt:
I couldn't help it, I started to cry when I held sweet baby James again.
He gave me the longest hug, and then gave JB a big hug.
Reunited with our boys:
We are so grateful for JB's parents for taking such loving care of our boys while we were away. When we would get a signal, we would call, and each time the boys would rattle off all the fun stuff they were doing. Pauline may need a vacation now, though. Maybe to Wyoming.