This year we decided to commemorate the holiday with a 5 mile (round trip) hike. I am the first one to admit that it was a but too much for our group. During tiny moments I felt akin to the early saints of these latter-days. For example, I found our small party climbing in the hot sun. I usually pack the baby on my back, and Austin works with our 4-year old Nick. Which means during intervals he carries him on his back. Both of these children were happy during the hike, but they were exhausted from being carried. We also took off our shoes and socks and waded through a frigid glacial stream. Near the top my 5-year old happy hiker did not exist. She was hungry, hot and her tiny legs were spent. I found myself encouraging her by asking her questions about her upcoming kindergarten year. I simply helped her to think about something other than her misery. Once at the top, she rested, ate a satisfying lunch, and ran almost all the way back to the car on our way home.
We only spent 5 hours in the extreme wilderness, and we were well supplied with water food and adequate clothing. As Mark the trekker knows, this was hardly a trek west. The 3,000 pioneers that journeyed in 10 handcart companies between 1856 and 1860, and a total of 70,00 saints who came in the 23 years, “came by the thousands, often at great sacrifice, to live gospel teachings and to build the kingdom of God” (Peterson, Ensign, Aug. 1997).
