TREK

For the past year the youth have been planning, preparing, praying, reading scriptures, etc to get ready for TREK. Right now, I'm serving in the Primary; however, I desperately wanted to go. For years I had heard stories of the spirit that was there. I wanted to see the trails where my ancestors had traveled to come to a place where they could worship who and how they wanted. I wanted to walk where my ancestors had walked. I wanted to go on TREK.

I started dropping huge hints. Even volunteering for

bathroom clean-up. Because of the limits on how many can actually walk on the trails (BLM rules), I knew it would be pretty unlikely that I would get to go. I had actually given up

hope of being able to go, when I heard the news that I could got and be on the food committe about a week before.

Of course, another reason I wanted to go was because of Erika. She had just had major ankle surgery in June and I was very worried that she wouldn't be able to make the long walks. She had barely walked around the block with out a lot of pain. I knew she was stubborn and wouldn't tell anyone if she was hurting.

The drive was lots of fun with the Bennetts and

Cathy Jolley. We laughed and talked. People thought we were polygamists in our pioneer clothes. So much fun.

Sometimes I feel so engulfed in buildings and concrete that the open space I saw there some how healed my soul. My first day I was close to tears all day. I love Wyoming. I love seeing open space.

As we started off on our first hike, I headed off alone for just a minute. It's certainly hard to write down how I felt. The ground there is sacred, hallowed & reverent. My heart over-filled with love and pride for my ancestors. The ones that

left everything to come across the plains to leave their homes & families. The weather that day was perfect. A little breeze and not to hot. It almost made it im

possible to imagine how cold it would have been. As a mother, I don't even understand how difficult it would have been to have hungry, cold children. You don't have to explain to any mother that feeding and keeping your children comfortable are your number purpose. As I walked, I cried for the mothers.

Erika walked 6 miles that day. The hardest par
t for her was walking through the water. The rocks in the water made it hard to keep her ankle stable.

The Food Committee got up at 4am to prepare food for 600 people. We didn't sleep a wink that night. My prayers were with Erika as she was getting ready to walk 15 miles that day.

We had this trailer packed with food along with a big refrigerator. I laughed as I chat

ted with one young guy who ended up being my cousin (from James Henry Rollins). Of course, I ended up loving these guys. Anytime you serve with people, you grow to love them.

It was a cold day that day. They got rained on. The wind blew and I stressed. Her family was wonde

rful and all agreed that she should get in t

he cart if her ankle hurt. I knew she wouldn't. In fact, I think she pulled the hand cart more the boys did. I waited for her to come over that mountain. She was the first one. I knew it was her because of her cute blue skirt ( I made for just like it for me) and of course because of her cute limp. She hugged me and chastised me for crying like a baby. I was so proud of her. I know she hurt, but her determination to finish was strong, just her family that had gone before her.

The third day was such a highlight! My Uncle John and Aunt Vicki Carter where our campground hosts. They were wonderful hosts and so fun to chat with. Uncle John looks just like my Grandpa Carter. Aunt Vicki cried when we left and asked if I thought Grandma would be proud. Of course, she would.

To say that I'm grateful, is an understatement. What a life-changing experience I had to sit in Martin's Cove and feel the spirit there. They say it's the Wyoming Temple and the spirit is just as strong. I'm forever changed and will always remember .