My primary purpose was to:
A) Be captain of our company if the Bishop decided not to go.
B) or if Bishop did go, make sure the Bishop did not die .  (Bishop Morrill is 68 or 69 and had had a heart attack 5 years ago.)

The Bishop initially was not going, so I was to be his representative, but then he felt he should go.  His wife was not willing to let him go without her so she came too.

So we started Thursday morning at the stake center for a little devotional and then rode buses (400+ of us) to a Ft Bridger Wyoming, near Evanston.  Our ward had 3 “families”.  Each “family” had a “ma”, a “pa”, and 5, 5, and 6 youth in their respective families.  There were 8 companies total with each company having 5 or 6 “families”.  A few of the companies were really two mini companies together(ours was like that).

We arrived near Ft. Bridger Wyoming in the midst of a windfarm.  None of the propellers were turning.  The bus drivers mentioned they had only ever seen them turning.  We loaded up our handcarts and started to Trek.  The trail was the actual pioneer trail.  We saw some pioneer graves(mounds of rocks) and then Brigham’s Arrow.

The trail was decent with the occasional hill, some sagebrush that the handcarts had to be pulled over, and a few dry streambeds.  The dirt was kind of a slightly red clay dirt. The youth “pulled” on this for about 2 hours and then we had lunch.

It quickly became apparent that the Bishop’s wife needed the most help.  She had fallen the year before and really messed up her arm.  For the downhill stuff she often wanted a steadying hand, so that was my job.  She walked “slow but surely”, which meant Bishop and his wife would fall far behind our company of 3 “families”.  I would help, and then when the trail was easier, I would leave them and check on our 3 families for a while and then return.

After lunch, we then started down a rather steep decline that was very rocky known as Gravel Hill.  The cart had to be navigated down loose, larger sized, round rocks.  Two were at the front of the carts on the side, and the rest were at the back to provide braking.  It was arduous work.

We then continued on the trail.  At this stage, more dry dips(small washes) and hills made it more difficult, but nothing compared to the difficulty of Gravel Hill.

Then clouds formed and it rained.  It poured so much that I could hardly see 10 feet in front of me.  Some said it was 4 inches in the space of about 20 minutes, but I am not sure how they measured.  Lightning would strike and the thunder was under a second away.   It was the loudest thunder I had ever heard.  The instant nature of the rain left most of us drenched before we could get our ponchos on.

The Bishop and his wife took refuge with a group sheltering under a tarp.  I left them to check on our company.  The rain subsided and we continued pulling.  The trail was now very muddy and slippery.  The small dry streambeds were now full of water.  Many were slipping and falling.

We then made it to our “sweatwater crossing”.  The river, which had been deemed safe to cross the day before when it was knee deep, was now waist deep, flowing fast, and about 25 feet wide.  Turning back to go back up Gravel Hill was probably a worse alternative, so we crossed the river.  With their hand on my arm, I took the Bishop’s wife across.  Then I took the Bishop and one of the other Ma’s holding onto my shirt across.

We then made it to our camp, known as Muddy Creek Camp.  We setup tents and ate and then I went to start a fire and another thunderstorm hit.   We got into our tents.

The rain subsided and I felt we should still try to make a fire.  I, with the help of another pa, used a fire starting stick(I think it is some sort of sawdust mixed with wax, pressed into a stick shape.  It was in a emergency kit my mom had given to me for my birthday years ago) and made a fire using our very wet wood.  The fire was very important to help people feel a little better and start drying their shoes.

We trekked 5 miles the first day.

The next day, the plans on where to go had to change.  Originally, the plan was to go linear along the actually pioneer trail.  Due to the rain, the destination for our camp on the second night was no longer accessible to the semi hauling our tents and bedding.  So day two’s path was changed.

Also, my role changed.  The feet of the Bishop’s wife were in pretty bad shape, so they them drive the trailing pickup truck.

We started the morning trekking and things went well.  The youth were getting the hang of it.  We pulled for a while and then had lunch.

Then came the Womens Pull.  The men and boys were directed to leave the handcarts and line up along the sides at the top of a steep, very large hill.  The girls then pulled their handcarts to the top without help.  They struggled and it was very difficult for them.  It was also very difficult to not help.  One young man said “It made me mad” that he could not help.

We then trekked past Piedmont Wyoming and camped near there.  After setting up, we ate, had games ,and then the youth square danced.  People were finally over the misery of the previous day and things went pretty well.

The youth then got letters delivered to them from their parents.  Then we had a testimony meeting around the campfire.

On day 2 we had trekked 7 miles.

The next day we trekked the 7 miles back to where we camped the first night.  The buses came and picked us up.

I described my feet at the end of this as hamburger wrapped in duct tape.  They are feeling much better now and are doing fine.  Thank goodness for duct tape.  I was also very impressed with our crew of misfit youth.  They did great and they were tough.