Trek Prep: A Labor of Joy

Ward group at the G where we finished our 14 mile "urban hike" through AF and PG.

Oh, trek. Where to begin? I've put off writing this post for too long because I know it's going to be a tough one to do justice to. I suppose I will start off with some of the preparation elements. The gear-up for trek started in my ward back at the end of July. As I wrote about here, we hiked the Mormon Trail through Emmigration Canyon to kick off the trek preparation period. From then until trek in mid-October, there were a number of preparatory tasks I completed, some recommended and some just personal.


The first major element we were asked to do as part of the trek prep was reading a book about the Willie and Martin pioneers. We could choose between a historical fiction account by Gerald Lund or a non-fiction account. In these kinds of things, non-fiction is the preferred route to my mind, so I chose to read the non-fiction book, The Price We Paid. I probably wouldn't have picked this book up on my own, and I'm glad that I had the chance to read it.

I found that, despite learning about the Willie and Martin companies all growing up in the church, I didn't really know many details about their experiences. I learned quite a bit about them and the trials they went through. One of the interesting things I hadn't understood was that the main problem in the tragedy was simply a lack of communication among the PEF leaders especially. The handcart pioneers were sent out too late from Europe and the PEF agents in Florence simply didn't know they were coming and were caught unawares. The extra delay caused by the scramble to get them outfitted (and poorly outfitted, at that) pushed those companies too late in the season.

I also really had no conception about the Hunt and Hogetts wagon trains that were likewise caught in the Wyoming storms and were instrumental in helping the Martin company reach Salt Lake. It turns out one of my great aunts was in the Hunt train, so it was interesting to learn about them too. I ended up blitzing through The Price We Paid in Aug, though the schedule stretched that reading through Oct., so I wanted to keep up my pioneer readings through that time. I read related portions of several books through that period, including Readings in LDS Church History Vol. II, which I picked up at DI a while ago, and Journey to Zion, which I borrowed from Grandma when I visited her.

Most meaningful of all my extra curricular reading was going through first-hand accounts from one of my ancestors in John Solomon Fullmer: The Man and His Writings. While it seems that he didn't write much about either of the times he crossed the plains themselves, he did write a fair amount about his time serving as a PEF agent after his mission. I'm including my favorite story from that time below, as he related.

At 1 o'clock I started by what I call the Lightning Train. We ran something over an hour when the train ran against a large fat cow and must have thrown her off the rail. Still she was not so far removed but what she was dragged or run over, or both, by every car as she was dragged some twenty rods and was all mangled and apparently every bone in her broken. All the cars remained on track but the last one in which I was seated. This was thrown off the rails and [p.85] and [SIC] ran about forty rods tilting as though it must go over and stopped about twenty feet short of an embankment some fifteen feet high. Had the train not been stopped that moment the last car would eventually have been precipitated down the precipice and perhaps dragged all the rest after it. Thus were we providentially saved from perhaps instant death. There was much excitement among the passengers. As many as could were trying to make for the door in the greatest alarm and even after all was over and they safe, some could hardly talk. We had not time to think long but we thought fast and I noticed the difference between my own feelings and those of others. I did not feel any danger though I had the same reality before me that they had. As soon as we stopped I felt that the [p.86] Lord had delivered us. And to quiet their fears and agitation I said with a composed smile, "Gentlemen, we are all safe. It might have been much worse." I found I had perfect command of my voice and nerves and full presence of mind; not however, without a slight thrilling sensation for a moment passing over me as I stepped from the carriage and saw the precipice upon the very verge of which we had stopped.

You can check out the rest of his account of that period here, if you'd like. Reading these first-hand accounts was quite powerful to me. I've had an association with and interest in family history for about 5 years now, but it was fun to discover some new things I wasn't familiar with before in my own lines. I also spent time learning about my other pioneer ancestors, of which I have about 12 direct ones. I'm really glad I took the time to learn about and draw closer to each of them. Their stories inspired and uplifted me in significant ways over those months.

On the topic of honoring the dead, I also made time during the preparation period to go visit the graves of several of the Willie and Martin pioneers buried in this area. I learned they were here in The Price We Paid, then made it my business to find them. To make it a true pilgrimage of sorts, I decided it would be right for me to walk to their graves from my home rather than driving. My first trip was to the Pleasant Grove Cemetery, where both Amy and Patience Loader of the Martin Company are buried. I felt a particular love and regard for this family. They not only sacrificed and suffered greatly, they also felt very human to me. Amy lost her husband on the trail and worked beyond human limit to keep her family going all along the way with no complaints. Patience, on the other hand, gave up a comfortable London life for the gospel, and when her family's dedication was called into question in England, she did raise feisty grumbles over it. Nevertheless, she persevered through great hardship with humor and grace that sets a wonderful example for similarly imperfect people like me.

Later, I made a trip to visit George Cunningham of the Willie Company here at the American Fork Cemetery. George came from a rough background of mine working in England since he was about 6. The day I went to find him, I met a nice older gentleman who called to me from his parked car after seeing me searching and exploring through the headstones for a while. He was there to visit his wife who had passed away a year before, and wondered if I was working on a school project. I explained I was looking for George and why, though I'd gotten distracted by other interesting headstones too. Leroy, that was his name, was surprised by that response, I think. You usually don't see many young people hanging out in graveyards, unless they are up to no good, after all. I learned about Leroy's life with his wife and family, how he'd worked at Geneva Steel, and more about the area among other things. He gave me some dating and marriage advice, which he was qualified for after 60 years of marriage and assured me I'd find a spouse soon. I wish I were as confident about that as most people I talk to are! He was only 18 and his wife 16 when they got married, so it was a definite reminder of how times have changed. I talked to him for about an hour before I had to move on to make it Gerrit and Elisabeth's on time. It was nice to get to make an unexpected new friend on that trip.

At both George's and the Loaders' graves, I felt a real sense of reverence and respect for the chance to see them. It really struck me as I saw them how much I appreciate graveyards. Each headstone tells a story. Many, like the handcart pioneer graves, stand as a testament to a life well lived. They are inspiring to me. I hope that as much can be said of my own grave some day.

In addition to the spiritual preparations in the form of reading and family history, we were all asked to keep a physical training schedule that was basically a half marathon prep. This meant that most Saturdays, I was walking 7-14 miles. During the week, I also did as many as 7 on several days. It was a demanding schedule, but I found that the walking requirement was useful to me. Though I probably could have been ok on trek without having done it pretty well to the letter, it did give me a new level of stamina and physical fitness it probably would have been tough to reach otherwise. I also liked that the sense of being duty-bound to do it got me out and exercising more than I probably would have done on my own. The need to regularly hike also meant that I was able to spend good chunks of time with people I really admire, like Amy, as we hiked. So I was very much blessed in fulfilling this prescribed preparation as well.

This is a poor picture, but it is from a 13 mile hike I did with some awesome ladies in my ward the weekend before trek from Tibble Fork up into the ridge trail.

Gearing myself up literally for the conditions of Wyoming fall also took some careful preparation. I found myself buying a lot of outdoor equipment, though fortunately I did have a few things, like tents and boots, beforehand. Still, I had to buy a cold weather sleeping bag, Thermarest sleeping pad, hydration pack, and two pairs of water resistant hiking pants among many other smaller items. Of course, all told, everything I needed cost much more than I would have liked to spend. It really felt like I was hemorrhaging money there for awhile, despite the fact that I did my best to do most things on the cheap. The reassurance I had to give myself was that each of the items is something I will have reason to use again over my life, no doubt. That made the investment a bit more tolerable, though it was still painful.

To better prepare myself, I also decided to make a number of additional changes in October just on my own. Among those were giving up sugar through trek, listening only to uplifting/religious music, not watching any TV or other media, and improving my personal scripture study. By being strict with myself and eliminating worldly influences those last few weeks, I did find that I was living in a nice spiritual bubble free of distractions. These small, but significant, changes allowed me to stretch the Spirit I felt at General Conference all the way through trek and beyond. I found that I had a real reluctance after trek to slip back into the general distractions, akin to what I felt after my mission, though on a less severe scale.

I describe all these various preparations because one of the things that I learned through trek was the importance of treating spiritual experiences with the respect they deserve. My preparations before we went to Wyoming were highly rewarding. Even if I hadn't actually gone on trek, I was already richly blessed simply by preparing for it. And I found on trek, that my experience was much better because I'd carefully primed myself for it beforehand with a series of deliberate choices. The same could probably be said for most things in life, and certainly in eternity. The more carefully we prepare now to meet the Lord, the more pleasing will be the results on that day. I'll move on to the trek itself in the next post.