Many of you may have heard of the infamous Mormon trek. I had the opportunity to go on a trek this past week. It was all I expected and more. I began exercising 30 min. a day in January in anticipation of trek. In case you are preparing you self for a similar opportunity, please be advised that 30 min a day riding an elliptical is not enough preparation. This turned out to be a very intense experience for me. I was prepared for the fact that walking 27 miles in three days wearing a long skirt, hat and long sleeved shirt pulling a handcart may not be all that fun. What I was not prepared for, was the extreme spiritual experience that it would be. This is like Mormon extreme, like those extreme sports you see on t.v., only spiritual rush instead of adrenaline rush. Maybe the complete fatigue had something to do with it.
My fifteen year old son and I went with a group of tough Wyomingites. No silly rides or camping at the near camp for us. No way, we were going all the way, the whole 7 miles to Jackson camp ground. None of that sissy stuff for us, especially not at what has been referred to as Wyoming’s temple. The whole shebang here. The kids were great, the food was awesome. Sleeping out under the stars on the hard ground not so much.
I learned several things on ‘trek’, I am capable, with the help of my Heavenly Father, of walking farther and faster than I ever thought possible, or ever wanted to before, for that matter.
I have great respect, admiration and gratitude for my pioneer ancestors. I also have great empathy for them. I am sure walking that far pulling everything they owned with them sucked every bit as much for them as it did for me.
I know that the only way they made it through was with the help of Heavenly Father. It took great courage and faith to do what they did, and they didn’t have cars waiting for them at the visitors center. There was no going back for them, nowhere to turn when disaster struck. They suffered unimaginable things, yet through it all, their faith remained strong.
I am very appreciative of the chance I got to go into Martins Cove, to cross the Sweetwater, and feel the great spirit that dwells there, it truly is hollowed ground. I am also grateful that I will probably never have to do a trek with 250 youth again. If I ever do visit Martin’s Cove again, it will just be a quiet visit, not an extreme Mormon Trek!