Remember

One cannot help but feel a deep sense of gratitude and reverence as you visit places of such historic importance. Such is the case for our last visit to the Willie and Martin Handcart companies who went through so much trial and hardship. I was privileged to visit these sacred sights with my family and parents and it was an amazing experience--one that I hope we will never forget but remember as we continue our own handcart experiences through this life.
We started by visiting a museum in Casper Wyoming. The kids got to take a simulated wagon ride and learn about the trek west by thousands of people.

James--what can I say? He's always is the comic relief in the family. He said "Mom, take a picture of me over here."
There was a handcart that the kids could see how heavy it was to actually push. This was a favorite in the museum.



I made Brandon pose with this Pony Express sign because I thought it was so funny. He said he would have loved to have done that back then.

This was just outside the museum with Casper in the background. The pioneers would have come through this area and followed the Platte River.

This is the Platte River that the pioneers had to cross several times. By the time the Willie company came through there was a huge snow storm. Their clothes were frozen and they became destitute for food.
That night we ate at a smoke filled Mexican restaurant. Most the kids ordered Nachos.
We stayed in these awesome cabins near Martin's Cove. The only thing that wasn't so awesome was our little bed partner who took up more room then Rob and I together.
That morning we headed to independence rock. People heading west knew that if they hit independence rock before the 4th of July that they would avoid winter troubles. The Martin and Willie companies didn't make it there until October.
All my kids took off to climb the rock. Rob and I wanted to do it too. You can still see names that have been etched in the rock of people who had passed through. Ammon was not about to be left out and was trying to get Grandma to take him up.

That little guy climbed the whole way up without looking back. He's not going to let the other kids do anything without him.
These two are pretty much inseparable when they get together. Riley loves my Dad so much and wants to do everything with him. He used to follow him around all the time when he was little and do everything my Dad would do (mow the lawn, water the garden, etc.) He used to always yell "Grandpa, where are you?"
Once we reached Martin's Cove we were given handcarts. It was pretty hot and we had a five mile pull ahead of us. I couldn't help but think of the handcart companies that did this in sub zero temperatures on four ounces of flour a day. Their feet were frozen and they did not have adequate clothing. Their loved ones died and they couldn't even bury them because the ground was frozen. It was a great experience for all of us. I told my kids that I didn't want any complaining--we were on hallowed ground and complaining would be disrespectful to those faithful people. My kids did great and I was proud of them for their good attitudes.



As we got our handcarts we noticed a big white dog started to follow us. We later found out through one of the missionaries there that his name was Oscar. He was featured in the Children's Friend a year ago. He lives about ten miles away but hangs out at Martins Cove. We were told that once a day Oscar chooses a group to follow and to protect along the trail. Apparently it is a real privilege to be chosen by this dog. After reading in the friend, we learned that when adults come by, Oscar pays them no attention. If children are in the group however, he most likely will choose them. He even saved a little kid from a rattlesnake. I guess it was pretty easy to see why he chose us with our family of eight children.
Everyone took turns riding in the cart (except for me because I was determined to pull the whole way). I told the kids to pretend they were pulling the sick and afflicted. We have our modern day pioneer in the background on his cell phone.
There was a big youth group while we were there all dressed in pioneer clothing. What a great experience for them.
We were lucky to have water along the way to refill our water bottles. The pioneers weren't so fortunate.

This is Martin's cove. The company came from devil's gate to this cove for shelter. They figure with the wind chill it could have been as low as 70 degrees below zero. So many people died here. By this time they had been rescued but that didn't change the fact that they still had to push on. They didn't even set up tents but slept under the frozen canvas. Each morning they would come by and ask how many had died that night. You could really feel the spirit here.

As the Martin company were traveling from devil's gate to Martin Cove they had to cross the Sweetwater River. Grown men cried because they just could not make themselves get in that cold water one more time. Four young men from the rescue party spent all day carrying people across the river. These men are my heroes. What an amazing act of service for their fellow men.


After crossing the river I could see how discouraging that would have been for these poor frozen people. It isn't very wide and not incredibly deep but as cold as it was I couldn't imagine crossing it knowing how frozen it was. There were chunks of ice floating through that cut up their legs as they crossed.
Once Oscar saw us safely to our destination, he pulled up some shade for a rest.

This is devil's gate where the rescue company was waiting for the Martin Company.

My Dad brought four ounces of flour for the kids so they could see how much the pioneers were living off of.
Ammon loved the experiment. He would stir his flour up and eat it raw and then say "yummy". He was making us laugh so hard.

This is one of the better looking flour pancakes made by Matt. It really wasn't bad if you were starving.

The next day was so great. We decided to climb Rocky Ridge. This is where the Willie handcart company had to climb in order to get to their rescue party. This was at the highest elevation in the trail and the most challenging. By this time it was all they could do to put one foot in front of the other. If they stopped for even a minute they would freeze and die. Many died along the way. One young boy by the name of James Kirkwood carried his four year old brother all the way to the top only to lose his life. A young girl, Bodil Mortensen made it to the top and went to gather whatever she could find to burn for a fire. She was so tired she leaned against the wheel of the handcart, fell asleep and died. She had a sister waiting for her in Salt Lake.


I am so proud of my parents for making that climb. It wasn't easy by any means but my Mom is a pretty determined lady. I so admire that in her.
Rocky Ridge was my favorite. As we walked up the trail, I could feel that we were on hallowed ground. It was a great soul searching time for myself wondering if I would have had that kind of faith to move forward. Do I have that kind of faith now? Would these pioneers who sacrificed so much be happy with the way I am carrying on their legacy? Could I have sung "All is well, all is well" if I had to bury those closest to me? Could I have stood up in a Sunday School class like Francis Webster and tell all those there that criticized those companies that it was a privilege and a wonderful price to pay to get to know God? What can I do so that the price they paid is not in vain?
On the other side of Rocky Ridge is Rock Creek. Here, fifteen were buried. All varying ages, all seeking a better life in Zion.



Elder M. Russell Ballard said "You have nothing to fear from the journey. We all face rocky ridges, with the wind in our face and winter coming on too soon. Sometimes it seems as though there is no end to the dust that stings our eyes and clouds our vision. Sharp edges of despair and discouragement jut out of the terrain to slow our passage. Always, there is a Devil's Gate, which will swing wide open to lure us in. Occasionally we reach the top of one summit in life, as the pioneers did, only to see more mountain peaks ahead, higher and more challenging than the one we have just traversed. Tapping unseen reservoirs of Faith and endurance, we, as did our forebears, inch ever forward toward that day when our voices can join with those of all pioneers who have endured in faith singing: All is well! All is well!