Final Trek Day

Sara Lee makes the most amazing cinnamon rolls. I had two for breakfast, ignoring the sugar-overload and the fact that this third trek day,  I couldn't use the excuse, "I'll burn it off later". We knew we would only have 2 miles to trek today, and super-easy, flat trails at that. I'd worry about it later. Bring on the indulgement!

Following breakfast, we gathered for a short vignette. There was a musical number of "Come Come Ye Saints", with an emphasis on the verse, "And if we die before our journey's through, happy day. All if well . . . ."  After the song, the mood further sombered as we watched a family of Pioneers stare at a mound of dirt with a shawl lying on top of it. The father played "Be Still My Soul" on his harmonica, while his wife, daughter, and son held onto each other as they stared at the ground. It was clear they were burrying a small child, and with that hymn breaking my heart, I cried with many of us who were watching this devastating, poignant scene. I remembered how it felt to burry Ty two years ago, and I wept for the pain of that day; and I cried for the Pioneers who were asked to do this time and again in the worst of circumstances, lacking the closure I was blessed to have with a funeral, family, friends, and the comfort of a home. How the pioneers could bear to leave their family members and friends lying barely covered in frozen ground, I cannot understand -- yet I can only believe that the same Atonement that bolstered me up was also working through them in their righteous state to carry them to Zion, or as far as their journey carried them.

After this vignette, the first group went on their way. Due to transportation issues in meeting up with our buses, we had to send one company (two wards) at a time and leave the rest at camp to kill time. We, again, were back of the line, so we had a good 2.5 hours to kill after breakfast.

We had a great time though! The boys went crazy with the hula hoops, first playing "horseshoes" witih them in competitive spirit.

That wasn't the crazy part. I believe the following game they made up was called, "Ninja Warrior Hula Hoop Pioneer". It took place in the meadow adjacent to camp, where the boys/Dan split into two teams and basically whipped the hula hoops at each other like frisbees, as fast and as hard as they could. It was more or less dodge ball (and those hoops flew surprisingly fast!) with Dan "hiya-ing" with a voice that resembled a cross between a ninja and Yoda. Quite strange and entertaining. (I might even add "embarrassing", but Dan was a Rock Star in these boys' eyes so it didn't matter) The boys/Dan were especially pleased with themselves when they left welts on each other. Ah, boys . . . I'll never really understand their sadistic employment of pain!

 We concluded our final hour playing Mafia (I learned that game when I was 12 on a temple trip in Manila, Phillapines! Kinda surprised it's still a hit). Nothing like playing a game of deceit, lies, and murder to conclude a Pioneer Trek.

The two miles were a breeze and we were all in good spirits -- even just a little sad for it be over. (Although one last use of the Port-a-Potty and lack of a shower in three days was enough for us not to be too sad)

The final vignette mimicked The Rescue of the Martin handcart company. We were greeted by Ephraim Hanks -- a pioneer whose story I was unfamiliar with, but was so grateful to hear. There is too much about him for me to write here (look him up. He's an amazing part of the Pioneer's story). But from him, I was reminded of following even the littlest commandments, and how doing so can allow me to be righteous and deserving enough to be an instrument to God to help others.



 Rescued, we turned in our handcarts and called farewell to the Pioneer Trek.

 I'm so grateful I could work with such amazing youth. I had my reservations before about raising teenagers in Vegas. However, this group of teens proved me so very wrong, and gave me hope that diligent families can fight the adversary and raise strong youth even in seemingly unlikely places. (I should know that anyway, since I survived my upbringing in Bangkok!) Dan and I feel so blessed to have this opportunity.

A reverant "shout out" to my Pioneer Ancestor, ANNIE HICKS, who I walked for on this trek. Thank you, great-great-great-grandma for being courageous enough to follow your faith over the ocean and across the plains, in spite of facing rejection from your family in England. I believe these ancesteral ties to an amazing woman like Annie contribute to the strength I've had to work through challenges in my life. Thank goodness for our family members on the other-side fighting for us and cheering us on every step of the way in our own battle as modern-day pioneers.