We started on Wednesday morning at 5 am. Everybody checked in at the church, and sat in the chapel. We listened to ‘Brigham Young’ give us a motivational speech to get us to Zion. (His speech was replete with fulfilled prophesies. Literally every sentence was a prophecy that had been fulfilled or was in the process. It made me wonder how many prophecies I miss as I listen to President Monson…usually thinking that whatever he is saying is ‘just nice’.) We all shouted “Hurrah for Zion” at the end and then rushed out the door to our cars. Drove the 3 hours outside of Houston to Jasper; deep East Texas, practically the Louisiana border. Outside Jasper is a private property attached to the Sabine National Forest. We started at base camp, each Ma and Pa calling out the kids in their family.
We started with some name games, gave everybody their pioneer stories of who they were representing (they read the first part then and the last part on the last day), and tried to decorate a flag. I forgot how teenage decision making is so laborious, as we tried to reach a consensus on our family name. The ‘swag wag’ was already being used by several families, ‘pimping pioneers’ was too risqué; finally everybody agreed on ‘huslin’ handkarts’. Whew. Then we loaded the carts. Thankfully, we had two senior boys who had been on trek before and were serious workers. They were football buddies from Katy High (the school that won state last year) and were really tough. They knew how to load the cart and tie down the tarp. And off we go!
At first, everybody had fun ‘pushing’ the cart; which meant that several kids really pushed and everybody else had a hand on it. Then we got to a muddy ditch and it took full effort. Then we came to another muddy ditch (When I say ‘mud’, I mean so mucky that it takes your shoes off your feet). Then we came to a really big muddy ditch.
Then we trekked through some muddy cow pasture (now THAT is stinky mud), then we hit some muddy hills and a couple big muddy ravines. Then we head into the woods. By this time, everybody is sweaty and hot and we are really suffering from lack of water. (The water they initially gave us was stale and was making everybody sick…were they trying to be so realistic?) If we thought it was muddy before, we didn’t know what was coming. Going through the woods was basically walking through 6-12 inches of muck; walking was hard enough, but pushing those heavy handcarts through the mud was almost impossible. By this time, everybody’s true colors were showing. A couple of kids were dry heaving, the wimpy ones, who hadn’t even been pushing were exhausted and complaining, we had two kids close to fainting, but our two football boys were working their guts out. Then we start hitting ravines in the woods that are slick mud up and down both sides. It took everybody’s effort, plus some kids from the family in front and behind you, to get them up the hill, just to see another raving in front of you. This was exhausting to say the least. I started thinking we weren’t going to make it. Our football boys were dry heaving and one girl was close to exhaustion. After about 3 hours, there was a water truck that replaced our bad water with clean water and everybody revived. Sadly enough, it was too late and one of our football boys was sick…real dysentery, plus a little heat exhaustion. He tried to go on, but just couldn’t and he had to go back to base camp until that night.
We head out of the woods and into a clearing. Great, no more maneuvering trees, right? (Piney Woods are THICK wooded forests, we were mostly following 4 wheeler trails). Wrong, that meant we were following the pipeline trails, which were 200 foot steep ravines. I am not exaggerating when I say they are at least 60 degree angles up and down, with a foot or two of mud at the bottom. It took everybody on the back of the cart ‘breaking’, plus a tow rope tied to the back with more ‘breakers’ to get it down to the bottom without losing control. Then we flipped the rope to the front of the cart. It took at least 8-15 boys on the yoke, rope and pushing on the back to get it to the top. Only to do it all over again. We did this about 7 times. But many boys did it so much more, running down to the bottom to help the next cart up the hill. The Ma and Pa weren’t supposed to push the cart at all, but what can you do when you see your cart slipping down the hill? By then we had lost one of our boys and Truston was trying to fill his spot.
The last hill was enormous, and we turned a corner and rested for a second.
Thankfully there were no more hills, but the ground was covered in standing water…which meant so much mud. By this time it was dusky and the mosquitos were out. We walked through the mud for a ways, waited for the whole train and then the men left for the women’s pull. One of the leaders gave a beautiful speech about respecting the young men and the priesthood they bear. She talked about the influence of young women and how we determine their behavior, speech, dress, etc.
Then they told the women to push. So, here we are, 5-6 girls to a cart. If you were lucky you had 1 athletic girl who could pull like a man. They told the girls they had the support of their leaders and parents so all the women leaders pushed with them. We pushed for about 30 minutes through the muddiest muck ever, in the dark. It was so deep, my petticoat got weighed down and I lost it. A couple of people lost their shoes. I was in the back with another girl, I kept thinking, I’m going to blow my back out. Toward the end, the men and boys were lined along the trail singing ‘Come, Come Ye Saints’ as we pushed past them. When we were stopped, the girls in our group sat down on the ground and cried. By then, everybody was worn out, I could feel the girls giving up. We got to camp and I tried to have them help me set up the tent..they were so done. We sipped our broth and tried to wipe the mud off our feet and legs. We had a fireside after the camp was set up…I can’t remember anything about it, I was so exhausted. My feet were sore and my back was killing me. I thought for sure I had broken it and the next morning I wasn’t going to be able to get out of bed. I don’t need to tell you that at this point, NOBODY was loving the ‘experience’. It was more like torture. We got to bed about midnight.
We spent a sleepless night listening to Pa Geigley snore like a bear.
The next morning, everybody got up slowly and choked down the cornmeal mush. Even though we started slowly, everybody’s spirits had returned and they were more adept at taking down the tent, cooking, cleaning and packing the cart. We started a full strength, really stronger then the day before. They were better walkers and pushers. There was less complaining and more helping. We went through some muddy woods for a while and then came to a clearing. We summited two huge hills and then stopped for the ‘Sweetwater rescue’ talk. Brother Anderson gave a beautiful talk about our Lord being a 4th watch God. He gave several scriptural examples of the Lord coming to the rescue in the 4th watch. He explained that the Hebrew clock starts at 6 am. So the first hour is 6 am, the 2nd hour is 7 am, the 11th hour is 5 pm. The 1st watch is 6-9 pm, 2nd watch is 9-12am, 3rd watch is 12-3am and the 4th watch is 3-6am.
Then we summated the biggest hil that we had done. It was impressive how many boys ran up and down the hill, helping push cart after cart up the hill. We got to the top, kept going, dodged into the woods with trees scraping both sides of the cart, wallowed through some more mud and then finally made it to zion! Whew! I think that everybody was a little misty-eyed, if not crying, while we walked into base camp. We circled up our carts, set up our tents and started dinner. Every kid there was ‘so tired’ and ‘could barely move’. They ‘just wanted to go to bed’, ‘sleep through the hoe-down’ while the pioneer games started. After we ate dinner, it was time to go to the Ma & Pa skits and then the hoe-down. All those kids who were ‘exhausted’ were up and dancing like a bunch of wild Indians.
The next morning we made breakfast, broke camp and made our ash cakes. Everybody was given 4 oz. of flour to carry throughout the trek and the last morning we mixed it with water and made some ash cakes. It’s like making one pancake or 2 small biscuits. Not very much food, at all. I told our boy who had worked his heart out, that he probably would’ve died of exhaustion. He had worked so hard, and there just wasn’t enough food to keep him alive, in addition to the exposure the pioneers suffered.
Then the kids had some solo time and we met again for the testimony meeting. The testimonies were so sincere and thoughtful. The boy I had told, “would probably die”, bore his testimony. He said, “This morning my ma told me I would probably have died. (at this point I’m kicking myself). He said, I thought about that and decided; if that’s what it takes to get my brothers and sisters to Zion, I would’ve paid that price”. It was so touching to hear how everybody’s testimonies had grown and their gratitude had deepened. The testimony meeting made the whole trek, mud and all, worth it.
