I'm here to talk about something called "the Trek." Dan and I got to go on the Trek a few weeks ago with the Young Women and YM from our stake. We served as Ma & Pa to a little family. The Trek is essentially a reenactment of the trek the early Latter Day Saints made across the plains to reach the Salt Lake Valley.  The original Trek happened more than 150 years ago. Most of the saints crossing were converts to the church from Europe. They were seeking religious freedom, and an escape from lots of persecution happening at the time. These Saints were after Zion.

            At the beginning, the pioneers crossed the plains in wagons with oxen. It was a long journey of over 1000 miles.  It became apparent, as time passed, that this long journey was far too expensive to many of the saints to make. The Prophet Brigham Young, inspired by God, came up with a plan to have them cross using handcarts. With a handcart, you didn't need oxen, because the people would pull the cart. It was much less expensive, and ended up being faster and actually safer than traveling by wagon. Ten handcart companies crossed the plains, all of which were successful.  However, the fourth and fifth companies, called the Willie and the Martin companies, were held up and didn't leave until into July. They didn't find food at the usual forts, and they were also hit by an early, cold winter. They struggled and almost perished. These were the Saints that we were learning about and Trekking in honor of.

            We got to go to the actual place that the Willie and Martin companies travelled, camped and finally were rescued. It was a beautiful, powerful experience. The ground we walked on is hallowed ground, which means that the Savior himself walked there. We were walking in the very footsteps of Jesus Christ as He stood by and walked alongside the Saints in their desperate condition. The Spirit was so strong as we remembered and experienced some of their trials ourselves.

            The first day, we spent our time in a place called Martin's Cove. Martin's Cove is where the Martin Company, the latest company, totally out of food, so exhausted that they could not even set up tents, finally came to a stop. They set up camp with the small hope that there was relief on the way. More than 20 people died in this area and were buried in unmarked graves. This is also the site that the Martin company was rescued. After a week of camping in blizzard-like conditions, a relief group from Salt Lake arrived. They had food, clothing and shelter for these poor Saints. We walked around Martin's Cove in silence. The youth thought about this situation and what it would be like. It was moving to be there.

            After the Cove, we came upon a small river called the Sweetwater River. River crossings were especially treacherous for the pioneers. We didn't think it was a big deal - the water wasn't deep, and it was 90 degrees outside, so it felt great. However, when the Martin Company came upon the Sweetwater River, it was about zero degrees out, with blowing snow around. They had crossed another river before stopping, and lost many in their company to it. They had no spare clothing to change into, no way to warm or dry clothes, and they simply froze to death.

            When the Martin Company came to the Sweetwater River, athough they had been rescued, they still had to cross the river. There was no other way for them to continue. Knowing this, many of them fell to the ground and wept. They knew they could not endure crossing. So, four brave young men from the rescue party started carrying the Saints across. They kept going, back into the icy river time and again, breaking the ice on the surface, until every single person was across the river and able to carry on. These young brave men sacrificed their bodies in order to help strangers that they had never met.

            Four young men from were called forward and asked to carry the rest of our group across the river. We did this in silence and felt much power behind the sacrifice others make on our behalf.

            We finished Trekking that day around dinner, and then got to have a little free time to play in the river and go to a square dance. Then, after a late night (how do you get teens to go to bed?), we were ready for another day of Trekking, in sun, with no shade. It was hot.

            That second day, after we stopped for lunch, I started to look forward to something I had been told about called the Women's Pull. At that point, I knew that the women would be in charge of pulling the cart up a hill with no help. I was a little nervous but really thought we would be okay.

            As we came to the base of a mountain (it was no mere hill). We stopped for a drink break, and then the men were called away. They headed up the mountain, and as soon as I watched my husband walk away, I was overwhelmed. He and I had not spent one second apart on the Trek so far. He had always been there to pull the cart for me, to help me drink and find shade, and just to be my best friend. As I watched him turn away, I couldn't even imagine being a pioneer watching her husband leave, or having to carry on after her husband's death. And so the tears began.

            I was crying as I listened to Sister Leis give a beautiful talk to our Young Women about how amazing they all are, and how they are all divine. It was perfect, and I couldn't help but feel so moved as I looked around the circle and saw all of my beautiful Young Women from church who I love so much and long for them to know how special they are.

             I did manage to pull myself together toward the end of her talk and as we got ready to climb the hill. I gave my little daughters a pep talk, and then we started. We began to trudge up the hill, and we were doing pretty good for a few minutes. Then we started struggling. We had to stop twice to move positions. I started in the back, then moved to the front to pull, and finally went to the back again. We put all our strength into it, muscles burning, and finally made it over the crest of a hill, only to look up and realize that there was a whole tier or the mountain left. We were only half way and we had spent all of our strength getting that far. We kept going, little bursts of energy coming out every once in a while, but about halfway up that second portion, my feet started slipping. Our cart came to a stop and I knew we weren't going to make it. At this point, I was crying and having a hard time catching my breath, so I'm sure we looked like a pretty pathetic sight. As it happened, the cart behind us was doing really well, so one of the girls jumped up to help us push, and we ended up making it up the mountain.

            Finally, we made it to the top where the men were waiting for us. I was pretty fatigued at this point, so I'll let Dan share the rest. All I know is that we made it, and I felt so strong and empowered. It was amazing.

            Right after the women's pull (after a little rest and recovery), we trekked to another sight to honor a couple named Jens and Elsie Nelson. This was the story from the trek that affected me the very most. Jens and Elsie were were traveling with their one little boy, Jens. They were also caring for a good friend's daughter, named Bodil. Jens was a big man. He was over six feet tall, and had been caring for many families beside his own. He had pulled his cart, carried children and sacrificed his food and shelter for others. His wife, Elsie, was a tiny lady. She was just 5 feet tall, but strong and brave as could be. After the Saints were rescued, they had received new clothing and some food, but they still had to finish the trek to Utah in the snow. There was one particular climb called Rocky Ridge, that was especially difficult. There was no way around it, though, so they set out to climb it. It started blizzarding as they set off, so the little girl Bodil was put in charge of little Jens, but soon became separated from their mom and dad. Now, most of the group had gotten new boots to walk in, but Jens' feet were so big that none could be found for him, so he was still walking with rags around his feet. As he climbed Rocky Ridge, his feet got frostbitten and frozen so badly that he no longer could walk. He begged his wife to leave him behind and continue to Zion. Elsie, however, knew that was not God's plan. She got her husband (somehow) into their cart, and then, this amazing woman, climbed to the top of Rocky Ridge all by herself. Jens was alive when they got to the top, however, when they found their children, they found that Bodil had gotten little Jens to the top of the mountain, then sat to take a rest and passed away. Later that night, their son also died. The two children were buried along with 13 others at the top of Rocky Ridge. Elsie and Jens made it to Salt Lake and were sealed together in the temple. They never regretted making the journey that had cost them so much, and bore powerful testimony of the truthfullness of the gospel until the end.

            We were told this story at the top of a hill, and then Bishop Kimball and his wife reenacted it for us. She pulled him up the mountain for a little way. She really struggled though, and it became apparent that there was no way Elsie would have made it up the mountain unless she had had help from somewhere. As we watched, our group inched down the mountain, longing to be close to and help Sister Kimball. Finally, though they were called back, there were some who could not stand it any longer, and ran down to help. All of us moved down the mountain and cheered and pushed, and in my case cried and cried as we reached the top together. It was amazing.

            The top of Rocky Ridge, where 15 people were buried, was where we spent the last day. We got to have a testimony meeting up there, and many beautiful testimonies were borne. It was a perfect ending to a wonderful experience. And then, it was time to say goodbye. I sincerely hope that all those who were there will write down and remember their experiences.

            That was a long play by play, and I hope I didn't lose you too badly. The Trek means something different to everyone, and everyone learns something different (kind of like reading the Book of Mormon). I'd like to share one of my biggest lessons, though. As we were trekking around, I started feeling overwhelmed by the hardships these pioneers went through. They were tested to their very limits, and I had a terrible feeling that if I was ever put through that, I would not make it (I didn't make it to the top of the Women's Pull). I was frustrated because I was absolutely sure that I would not be able to keep my precious babies safe, and I knew for sure that I would never be able to pull my husband up a hill. I felt like I was being faced with unreasonable challenges, and not feeling inspired at all. It actually felt like I was carrying a heavy burden on my shoulders, and I struggled a lot at the end of the first day.

            Until, the thought finally came to me to remember the Sweetwater Crossing. Obviously it was the Spirit trying to teach me something. So I pondered it, and the "rescue" portion of the Trek became more and more significant in my mind. This story would have had a very different ending if the rescue had not come. Like me, none of those Saints could have made it without the help that came from Salt Lake. And yet, they didn't give up. They had faith that the Rescue was coming. And it did. The rescue I'm thinking about is both a physical, and a spiritual rescue, and there are two ends to it.

            First, we can learn that there are people all around us all the time in need of rescue, and that sometimes, like the four young men at the river, Heavenly Father needs brave people who will be His rescuers.

            Second, as we think about the rescue of the Saints, we should learn and remember that there is always going to be a rescue. No matter what trial or sadness we might be going through, there is always a rescue. For some of the Saints, their rescue was a safe crossing across the Sweetwater River, for some, their rescue was in a full belly and new clothing, for others, their rescue was death. For all of them, their rescue was Christ. They all found peace, comfort and strength to carry on in Him. The scripture Matthew 10:27 kept coming to me, as I Trekked on and felt my burden become lightened as I depended more on God than myself. It says "And Jesus looking upon them saith, With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible."  I know that with God, we can be happy with anything we are given. We can be strong and brave and face any trial or tribulation with faith and hope.