Yesterday afternoon, I dropped my son, Will, off at the recruitment station in Provo. They delivered him to a hotel near the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) up in Salt Lake that evening, so he could begin the process first thing this morning. He spent all morning undergoing physicals and filling out paperwork. He met all the physical requirements. In fact, he passed them with flying colors! The military creates a physical profile for each member that can potentially limit eligibility for certain jobs. Will got the highest marks in all categories of the profile, so there are (again) no restrictions on the jobs he can be trained for in the military.
He is on the low end of weight for his height. We've known that for practically his whole life, though. Only 5 lbs. lighter and he would have been disqualified from joining the service. So, we'll spend the next 11 months once again trying to help him gain weight. He will be taking weight training classes all year during his senior year, and I'm hoping that will also help him fill out some. Such a backwards dilemma.
After the physicals, he spent time going over a ream of paperwork while we arrived at the MEPS to watch the swearing in ceremony. Will and 6 other guys stood at attention, raised their right hands, and took the oath to serve their country. Will was the tallest guy in the room. He is now officially taller than his Dad.
Now that Will is a member of the military, he will join the Future Soldiers Program. That means that every Thursday afternoon he will meet with the recruiters for an hour and a half to learn what it is to be a soldier. Sargent Yates said sometimes they'll be doing PT (physical training), and sometimes they'll be learning about military traditions and etiquette. And, because he has joined the Army Reserves, he will join his Unit up in Salt Lake City once a month for Drill Weekends. He'll get paid for those.
When Will graduates from High School, he will then be ready for Basic Training and AIT (advanced individual training). AIT is where he will be trained to do the specific job (MOS) he chose in the military. For him, that is a Chemical Operations Specialist, or CBRN. The job designation is 74D, pronounced 74 Delta. He will be trained to operate and maintain decontamination equipment whenever chemical, biological, radiological, or nuclear fallout occurs. Sounds scary! I picture the people in the hazmat suits in movies like "The Sum of All Fears". That's the job my son will be trained for. That's the job he chose over becoming a paralegal or a medical tech. There were lots of jobs he could have chosen, actually, but those three were the most promising because of the signing bonuses that came with them.
You see, when he finishes training for this job, he will receive a $10,000 bonus for being willing to do it, and a $100/month "kicker" to his Montgomery GI Bill. That means an additional $100/mo. on top of what he would normally receive as a GI. That's school money. Because when we returns from job training, he will be going to school. Tuition assistance and the GI Bill will cover his college costs, and the recruiters told us that we will make sure his admissions and registration are all taken care of before he ships out to basic, so there will be no snags or stresses when he comes home. He'll be ready for school. All his ducks in a row.
Today, Will swore in as a member of the US Army Reserves. I am so proud of him, and so anxious, too. I want him to excel and I want to protect him all at the very same time. It is internally confusing. While waiting for the swearing in ceremony, Will mentioned that he designated me on the paperwork as the person who should receive his body and his pay if he should be killed while serving. What a cheery thought.
All of this is a lot to process! I know I've been driving Will nuts with all the researching I've been doing on all things Army. I'm just trying to wrap my head around it, you know? He's still my little boy, even if he is 6'2" and in the Army.
I'm grateful we have almost a full year before basic. I can focus on this last year of high school, and just enjoying every last drop of every moment I have with him before he leaves. I want to make it a year to remember. My last year with a child at home.
Pioneer Trek Part 2
Before I recount my experiences on a handcart trek reenactment, I feel the need to give a couple of bits of background information.
If you are asking "What is a Pioneer Handcart Trek?" Here is a link that briefly gives some facts and background to a small but significant piece of historical American westward migration.
HANDCART PIONEERS
Every six years or so, handcart trek reenactments are organized by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to give the youth (12-18 year old members) the opportunity to experience, in a small way, the hardships, faith, determination, and courage of their pioneer ancestors. The youth are organized into "families" and assigned a "Ma & Pa" and a handcart. All adults involved in this endeavor are volunteers and often use their own vacation/personal leave time from work in order to pull this off. Each participant is given a 5 gallon bucket to pack any and all gear and equipment into (except for tents and sleeping gear), which are placed in the handcart along with 2 food coolers and 2 five gallon water jugs. No electronics of any type are allowed on the journey. We estimated that the handcarts weighed approximately 500 lbs. fully loaded. Then the "families" would pull their handcart for 3 days, camping in the desert/wilderness for two nights.
Here is the second tidbit of information...
I hate camping. My idea of roughing it is staying in a hotel instead of a time share, and maybe even being willing to stay in a hotel with no pool (shudder!). Yet, when we were asked to volunteer to be a "Ma & Pa", we agreed to do it.
Each person participating in this event was asked to research the Willie and Martin handcart companies, and to choose a specific pioneer in whom to dedicate their handcart experience, preferably an ancestor, if one existed in the companies.
I do not have pioneer ancestors, but Bill does. Emily Wall is Bill's grandmother six generations removed. She and her brother, Joseph Wall, were members of the Willie handcart company. I trekked for Emily, Bill trekked for Joseph. Here is their story...
The Wall family lived in England in the 1850's and had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They wanted to join the main congregation of saints in the Salt Lake valley (which was not even part of America at the time), but could not afford the journey for the whole family. It was decided that the two oldest children, Joseph (17) and Emily (16), would leave the family and make the "Journey to Zion", as it was called.
{Side note: As a parent, I can't even begin to fathom the sacrifice of that decision! To leave their family and all that they know at such a young age! And, at that time in history, they had to know that it was likely they'd never see one another again!}
Emily and Joseph set sail on the Thornton and joined the Willie handcart company.
At some point on the trail, and past the point of no return, Joseph became deathly ill. The leaders of the company determined that it was unlikely he would survive the day. They left Emily and one of her young friends sitting with the dying Joseph on the side of the trail and continued with the rest of the company to the evening camp, intending to send riders back to assist in burying Joseph and bringing the girls back to camp. When the riders retraced the trail and found the girls, Joseph was still alive! Emily begged the men to place her brother in her handcart and she vowed to pull him herself.
And she did. She pulled her handcart (with the help of her friend), with her 17 year old brother in it, all the way to the Salt Lake valley; even through the bitter trials that beset that particular handcart company. Both she and Joseph survived.
I can't tell you how fiercely proud I am of this young woman's faith, courage, love and dedication! I tear up just thinking about her.
We arrived, in pioneer costume, bright and early at the church building to load into buses and head out to the trek site, having delivered our camping gear (tents, food/water coolers, bedding, and 5 gallon buckets of essentials) the night before. I ended up having to send Bill back home because in the excitement of leaving in the morning, I forgot a couple of essential items (neck coolers and gifts I had made for my "children"). Three buses delivered the approximately 120 youth and their adult leaders. Originally, Bill and I had been assigned 7 kids, but on the night before trek we received an e-mail telling us one of the boys had pulled out. On the morning of trek, we discovered one of the girls had also pulled out. That left us with 5 "children", three girls and two boys. It made us one of the smaller families and meant that our kids would spend the majority of their time physically pushing/pulling the handcart. Other, larger families could rotate the youth, giving them breaks from the hard work of pulling the handcart.
That first day, we pulled the handcarts for about 10 miles over relatively flat ground. Part of the day was cool and windy, part of the day was hot. There is a joke in Utah that says if you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes or drive 5 miles. Really, the weather here is that changeable. The ground alternated between gravelly and powdery dirt. We all got coated in fine, gritty grime by the end of the day. For a while, I had a bandana covering my face, trying to filter it out. I can't tell you how good it felt to finally pull into camp on the first night. Hot, hungry and foot-sore, we put up our tents.
The original members of the Willie and Martin handcart companies ran into trouble because they left late in the season, and no one knew they were coming. When they reached the re-fueling way stations, there was no one there and no supplies with which to restock. They had to cut rations again and again in their attempt to reach the valley. By the end (just before they were rescued), they were down to 4 ounces of flour per adult, and 2 onces of flour per child each day! They mixed it in water and drank it. Many men mixed their own portion with their wife's and children's, telling their families that they had already eaten back at the supply wagon. That is why so many more men died than women. They were literally sacrificing their own lives in the hopes that their families would survive.
Fortunately, we have no desire to put the youth though that kind of experience! There was an incredible support staff that brought in food to the camps for every meal. We were well fed.
Once everyone had eaten and had their tents up (girls on one side of camp, boys on the other, leaders tents in the middle), everyone gathered for square dancing.
!!!
Oh, my feet hurt! I DID NOT want to dance.
But, we danced. And it was FUN! There was so much laughter. It was really fun to see these young people who are usually completely plugged in (texting and zoned out with earbuds in) being so playful and full of life.
There were lots of devotionals, prayers, and singing...
... but there were no showers.
We had packed baby wipes and used those to get as clean as we could in our tent before going to bed. Of course, the very next morning, we had to put back on the same grimy and gritty clothes we had worn the day before, because we only had one set of pioneer clothes.
Let me just say a few words about the clothes. Yes, I still think pioneer women wore too many bulky clothes. However, I noticed something almost from the beginning. It suddenly didn't matter what my body looked like under all those clothes. It didn't matter that my tummy pooches more than I'd like. It didn't matter if my underarms sagged a bit. It didn't matter that I'm carrying around 20 lbs. of extra fat. None of that mattered because you couldn't really tell under all those clothes. There is nothing revealing about those clothes, whatsoever. All that mattered was what was in my mind and in my heart.
We woke up to the bugle call at 6 am. I had a rotten night sleep, waking at 2:30 am needing to pee, but being unwilling to disturb the camp with a flashlight dash to the port-a-johns in the dark. So, I tossed and turned in discomfort until 5 am, when it was finally light enough out to venture through camp sans flashlight. After tearing down the camp, breakfast, and morning devotional, we headed out for day two of handcart trekking.
The second day was only 5 or 6 miles, but they were on rougher terrain and in bad weather. Cold and wet in the morning, scorching in the afternoon. The kids had to push and pull through the rain wearing ponchos. The dust turned to mud that caked the handcart wheels and the bottoms of everyone's feet, making shoes feel like lead. Still, the rain meant cool weather, for which we were all grateful. The afternoon weather turned blisteringly hot, leaving us pulling into evening camp in 100 * temperatures.
Let me take a moment to talk about my "kids" on trek. We had two senior aged girls, Maddi and Ashley, a junior aged boy, Chandler, a sophomore girl named Tianna, and Kaden, our freshman "son". Maddi and Ashley were WONDERFUL big sisters! They were so helpful and kind to the younger kids! They both had wonderful singing voices and were very mature, grounded girls. We had no silly giggling fits (thank goodness!), no worries about them sneaking off with boyfriends, being out after curfew, or leaving chores undone. Chandler was a quiet, sober, and slightly geeky boy. I say that as a compliment. There was no bluster or false bravado in him. He was always quick to help and to obey. Really a solid gold "son"! Tianna was what you might call our "challenge" child. She wandered off constantly and I spent a great deal of time just trying to keep her with the family. Yet she wasn't malicious about it. I got the sense that it was part of her nature. She lived in her head and had a hard time focusing and hearing when we called her name. Our youngest, Kaden, was the life of the party. He's one of those kids with excess personality! His friend, Tony, often wandered over to our family handcart, announcing that he was our "adopted son". Just like Chandler, Kaden was a hard worker and never shirked a responsibility or disobeyed. I was just so impressed by these young people! I'm so proud I got to be their "Ma"!
After another evening of square dancing, group devotional and family devotional, we headed to bed.
Here are a couple of side stories, not specific to my little family.
While the tents were being set up in the 100 * heat, a girl from another family passed out in her tent. Her trek "sisters" thought she was just napping and left her alone. Fortunately, her "Ma" thought it was odd that she would be napping in a hot tent and went to check on her. Upon finding her unresponsive, she quickly summoned the medic, Brother Smith, who took the girl back to the lodge and administered an IV to get some fluids in her. I believe she ended up being transported to the hospital and missed the rest of the trek.
At about 10:30 pm (30 minutes after curfew), a strong wind hit the camp. Suddenly a bunch of girls started screaming! Moments later we had girls amongst the leaders' tents calling out for their "Ma's and Pa's" because their tents had collapsed. We hurried out and found two of the big walled tents down. One was a quick fix, anchoring the stakes down more firmly. The other one, however, had a shattered pole! Some duct tape and a shuffling of sound poles to the windward side and damaged poles to the leeward side fixed up the tent and everyone headed back to bed.
This was another short mileage day. Something between 5 and 6 miles. But it was the day with the biggest challenges... the Women's Pull and the River Crossing.
Many pioneer women ended up pulling the handcarts across the plains by themselves. Some came alone. Others lost their husbands on the way. There are many accounts of these amazing women pulling handcarts and caring for large families alone for literally hundreds of miles. Emily Wall was one of them. As a way to honor that heritage, and to help the young women in our care learn that they are stronger than they know, the men were pulled away from the families, and the girls took the handcarts alone for about a mile. But not just any mile. A grueling and brutal mile. Part was uphill, all was in ankle deep silt. The carts were bogged down by it. The pull was extremely taxing.
The girls were watched over by the "Ma's", but we had specific instructions NOT to help. Oh, that was SO HARD! To watch those girls struggle! I knew that the lion's share of the burden was falling on Ashley and Maddi. Sweet young Tianna was not a hard worker. Maddi and Tianna ended up in front, Ashley pushing from the back. Ashley got literally coated with dust, but she never flagged in her efforts. The cart lurched and jerked to a halt several times, and I admit I stepped in to help steer it aright and to budge it forward from time to time. But I mostly walked by their side and watched these excellent girls struggle and hummed hymns of encouragement to give their minds a focus on something other than their difficulties.
The men and boys were lined up on both sides of the end of the women's pull. They watched with their hats in hand as the girls struggled past them, many of the girls weeping as they toiled, including my own girls. They watched as many of the first girls to finish turned around and quickly ran back to help other girls bring their handcarts along. Most of the boys and men had tears in their eyes, as well. While the "Ma's" and medics tended to the girls after the pull, the men pulled the boys aside and instructed them to never in this lifetime leave the women in their lives to pull the handcart alone, metaphorically speaking.
I wished I could hold all of my girls at once, but I knew that Ashley was the strongest, and Tianna's tears were mostly a reaction to Maddi's tears. Maddi was the one who was completely undone by the experience. I held her while she wept and Brother Smith (the medic) and I both kept a close eye on her for the rest of the afternoon. Still, I did manage to get hugs in for all the girls. I just worry that Ashley might have felt less love. Not so! I just knew she was my rock solid daughter and that Maddi's condition was worse. She was literally shaking uncontrollably.
Now, you might think us a heartless group of child abusers for putting the girls through such a thing. Here is some food for thought: I know what it is to overcome a physical challenge. To subject myself to my own will and accomplish a truly difficult task. You know about it if your read my account of running a marathon. And now, those girls know it, too. They have experienced a true mind over matter moment that will benefit them for the rest of their lives. It is also important to note that this was not sprung upon them, unawares. They were fully briefed in advance and no one was forced to participate. It was actually a very moving and spiritual experience for everyone involved and all the girls were very proud for having accomplished it. The boys were very respectful and impressed.
After singing several hymns (giving the girls some time to recover), the boys and men took over the handcarts. Not a single girl was allowed to pull the handcarts for the rest of the day. The boys wouldn't dream of it.
On October 19, 1856, the first winter storm rolled across the Willie and Martin handcart companies. The Martin handcart company was unfortunate enough to have to cross the North Platte river right when the storm was at its worst. Even worse, in a desperate attempt to lighten their load and reach the valley more quickly, the pioneers had abandoned most of their clothing and blankets only two days prior to the storm. Soaked and freezing, they found the ground too frozen to drive the stakes in for their tents. So they crawled under the canvas laying on the ground and tried to stay alive. Many died that night.
But, help was on the way. Several weeks previous, an express wagon had passed the handcart companies on the plains and brought word of their existence and their dire need to Brigham Young, the Mormon prophet and leader, in the Salt Lake valley. Upon learning of the situation, Brigham Young immediately ordered rescue parties to set out that very day. Women stripped off their petticoats, shoes and stockings, and gathered blankets to send. Provisions were loaded on relief wagons, despite the settlement being on short rations due to a bad growing season. A rescue was on its way.
After finding the handcart pioneers in truly desperate condition, and tending to them as best they could, the rescuers still had to bring the emaciated and terribly weakened saints the rest of the way without becoming victims of the elements themselves. When they reached the final river crossing, the Sweetwater River, many of the handcart pioneers sat down in the snow and wept in despair.
Five young men from the rescue party, ranging in age from 17 to 25, stepped forward and carried the weakest of the handcart pioneers through the river, each crossing the ice choked river as much as 50 times in their efforts to save the saints.
The final challenge of our handcart trek was a river crossing. The boys were instructed to pull the handcarts through by themselves (no men helping), park them, then come back across and carry each and every one of the sisters across the river. This being a desert, and rivers being somewhat scarse, the river was a manufactured body of water. Still, the challenge of carrying over 60 girls and women across was real enough.
Bill carried me across. The grown men were only allowed to carry their wives. The young men had to do the rest. We were towards the front of the handcart train, so my "sons" had more than their share of duty in carrying girls across. I imagine they woke up this morning with very sore muscles.
And then, it was over! After the river crossing, we were just yards from the lodge. We parked the carts, met with our bishops to have a closing devotional, then unloaded the carts, power washed them, put all our gear into the supply trailers, got family photos taken, and loaded onto the buses to return home. Over all, we pulled those handcarts a total of approximately 22 miles.
It was three days of hard work, hard weather, sweat, and gross grimy shower-less-ness. But it was oh so worth it! It was really the most amazing experience and I am so very glad I got to experience it!
If you are asking "What is a Pioneer Handcart Trek?" Here is a link that briefly gives some facts and background to a small but significant piece of historical American westward migration.
HANDCART PIONEERS
Every six years or so, handcart trek reenactments are organized by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to give the youth (12-18 year old members) the opportunity to experience, in a small way, the hardships, faith, determination, and courage of their pioneer ancestors. The youth are organized into "families" and assigned a "Ma & Pa" and a handcart. All adults involved in this endeavor are volunteers and often use their own vacation/personal leave time from work in order to pull this off. Each participant is given a 5 gallon bucket to pack any and all gear and equipment into (except for tents and sleeping gear), which are placed in the handcart along with 2 food coolers and 2 five gallon water jugs. No electronics of any type are allowed on the journey. We estimated that the handcarts weighed approximately 500 lbs. fully loaded. Then the "families" would pull their handcart for 3 days, camping in the desert/wilderness for two nights.
Here is the second tidbit of information...
I hate camping. My idea of roughing it is staying in a hotel instead of a time share, and maybe even being willing to stay in a hotel with no pool (shudder!). Yet, when we were asked to volunteer to be a "Ma & Pa", we agreed to do it.
Dedicating the Experience
Each person participating in this event was asked to research the Willie and Martin handcart companies, and to choose a specific pioneer in whom to dedicate their handcart experience, preferably an ancestor, if one existed in the companies.
I do not have pioneer ancestors, but Bill does. Emily Wall is Bill's grandmother six generations removed. She and her brother, Joseph Wall, were members of the Willie handcart company. I trekked for Emily, Bill trekked for Joseph. Here is their story...
The Wall family lived in England in the 1850's and had joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They wanted to join the main congregation of saints in the Salt Lake valley (which was not even part of America at the time), but could not afford the journey for the whole family. It was decided that the two oldest children, Joseph (17) and Emily (16), would leave the family and make the "Journey to Zion", as it was called.
{Side note: As a parent, I can't even begin to fathom the sacrifice of that decision! To leave their family and all that they know at such a young age! And, at that time in history, they had to know that it was likely they'd never see one another again!}
Emily and Joseph set sail on the Thornton and joined the Willie handcart company.
At some point on the trail, and past the point of no return, Joseph became deathly ill. The leaders of the company determined that it was unlikely he would survive the day. They left Emily and one of her young friends sitting with the dying Joseph on the side of the trail and continued with the rest of the company to the evening camp, intending to send riders back to assist in burying Joseph and bringing the girls back to camp. When the riders retraced the trail and found the girls, Joseph was still alive! Emily begged the men to place her brother in her handcart and she vowed to pull him herself.
And she did. She pulled her handcart (with the help of her friend), with her 17 year old brother in it, all the way to the Salt Lake valley; even through the bitter trials that beset that particular handcart company. Both she and Joseph survived.
I can't tell you how fiercely proud I am of this young woman's faith, courage, love and dedication! I tear up just thinking about her.
Day 1
We arrived, in pioneer costume, bright and early at the church building to load into buses and head out to the trek site, having delivered our camping gear (tents, food/water coolers, bedding, and 5 gallon buckets of essentials) the night before. I ended up having to send Bill back home because in the excitement of leaving in the morning, I forgot a couple of essential items (neck coolers and gifts I had made for my "children"). Three buses delivered the approximately 120 youth and their adult leaders. Originally, Bill and I had been assigned 7 kids, but on the night before trek we received an e-mail telling us one of the boys had pulled out. On the morning of trek, we discovered one of the girls had also pulled out. That left us with 5 "children", three girls and two boys. It made us one of the smaller families and meant that our kids would spend the majority of their time physically pushing/pulling the handcart. Other, larger families could rotate the youth, giving them breaks from the hard work of pulling the handcart.
That first day, we pulled the handcarts for about 10 miles over relatively flat ground. Part of the day was cool and windy, part of the day was hot. There is a joke in Utah that says if you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes or drive 5 miles. Really, the weather here is that changeable. The ground alternated between gravelly and powdery dirt. We all got coated in fine, gritty grime by the end of the day. For a while, I had a bandana covering my face, trying to filter it out. I can't tell you how good it felt to finally pull into camp on the first night. Hot, hungry and foot-sore, we put up our tents.
The original members of the Willie and Martin handcart companies ran into trouble because they left late in the season, and no one knew they were coming. When they reached the re-fueling way stations, there was no one there and no supplies with which to restock. They had to cut rations again and again in their attempt to reach the valley. By the end (just before they were rescued), they were down to 4 ounces of flour per adult, and 2 onces of flour per child each day! They mixed it in water and drank it. Many men mixed their own portion with their wife's and children's, telling their families that they had already eaten back at the supply wagon. That is why so many more men died than women. They were literally sacrificing their own lives in the hopes that their families would survive.
Fortunately, we have no desire to put the youth though that kind of experience! There was an incredible support staff that brought in food to the camps for every meal. We were well fed.
Once everyone had eaten and had their tents up (girls on one side of camp, boys on the other, leaders tents in the middle), everyone gathered for square dancing.
!!!
Oh, my feet hurt! I DID NOT want to dance.
But, we danced. And it was FUN! There was so much laughter. It was really fun to see these young people who are usually completely plugged in (texting and zoned out with earbuds in) being so playful and full of life.
There were lots of devotionals, prayers, and singing...
... but there were no showers.
We had packed baby wipes and used those to get as clean as we could in our tent before going to bed. Of course, the very next morning, we had to put back on the same grimy and gritty clothes we had worn the day before, because we only had one set of pioneer clothes.
Let me just say a few words about the clothes. Yes, I still think pioneer women wore too many bulky clothes. However, I noticed something almost from the beginning. It suddenly didn't matter what my body looked like under all those clothes. It didn't matter that my tummy pooches more than I'd like. It didn't matter if my underarms sagged a bit. It didn't matter that I'm carrying around 20 lbs. of extra fat. None of that mattered because you couldn't really tell under all those clothes. There is nothing revealing about those clothes, whatsoever. All that mattered was what was in my mind and in my heart.
Day 2
We woke up to the bugle call at 6 am. I had a rotten night sleep, waking at 2:30 am needing to pee, but being unwilling to disturb the camp with a flashlight dash to the port-a-johns in the dark. So, I tossed and turned in discomfort until 5 am, when it was finally light enough out to venture through camp sans flashlight. After tearing down the camp, breakfast, and morning devotional, we headed out for day two of handcart trekking.
The second day was only 5 or 6 miles, but they were on rougher terrain and in bad weather. Cold and wet in the morning, scorching in the afternoon. The kids had to push and pull through the rain wearing ponchos. The dust turned to mud that caked the handcart wheels and the bottoms of everyone's feet, making shoes feel like lead. Still, the rain meant cool weather, for which we were all grateful. The afternoon weather turned blisteringly hot, leaving us pulling into evening camp in 100 * temperatures.
Let me take a moment to talk about my "kids" on trek. We had two senior aged girls, Maddi and Ashley, a junior aged boy, Chandler, a sophomore girl named Tianna, and Kaden, our freshman "son". Maddi and Ashley were WONDERFUL big sisters! They were so helpful and kind to the younger kids! They both had wonderful singing voices and were very mature, grounded girls. We had no silly giggling fits (thank goodness!), no worries about them sneaking off with boyfriends, being out after curfew, or leaving chores undone. Chandler was a quiet, sober, and slightly geeky boy. I say that as a compliment. There was no bluster or false bravado in him. He was always quick to help and to obey. Really a solid gold "son"! Tianna was what you might call our "challenge" child. She wandered off constantly and I spent a great deal of time just trying to keep her with the family. Yet she wasn't malicious about it. I got the sense that it was part of her nature. She lived in her head and had a hard time focusing and hearing when we called her name. Our youngest, Kaden, was the life of the party. He's one of those kids with excess personality! His friend, Tony, often wandered over to our family handcart, announcing that he was our "adopted son". Just like Chandler, Kaden was a hard worker and never shirked a responsibility or disobeyed. I was just so impressed by these young people! I'm so proud I got to be their "Ma"!
After another evening of square dancing, group devotional and family devotional, we headed to bed.
Here are a couple of side stories, not specific to my little family.
While the tents were being set up in the 100 * heat, a girl from another family passed out in her tent. Her trek "sisters" thought she was just napping and left her alone. Fortunately, her "Ma" thought it was odd that she would be napping in a hot tent and went to check on her. Upon finding her unresponsive, she quickly summoned the medic, Brother Smith, who took the girl back to the lodge and administered an IV to get some fluids in her. I believe she ended up being transported to the hospital and missed the rest of the trek.
At about 10:30 pm (30 minutes after curfew), a strong wind hit the camp. Suddenly a bunch of girls started screaming! Moments later we had girls amongst the leaders' tents calling out for their "Ma's and Pa's" because their tents had collapsed. We hurried out and found two of the big walled tents down. One was a quick fix, anchoring the stakes down more firmly. The other one, however, had a shattered pole! Some duct tape and a shuffling of sound poles to the windward side and damaged poles to the leeward side fixed up the tent and everyone headed back to bed.
Day 3
This was another short mileage day. Something between 5 and 6 miles. But it was the day with the biggest challenges... the Women's Pull and the River Crossing.
The Women's Pull
Many pioneer women ended up pulling the handcarts across the plains by themselves. Some came alone. Others lost their husbands on the way. There are many accounts of these amazing women pulling handcarts and caring for large families alone for literally hundreds of miles. Emily Wall was one of them. As a way to honor that heritage, and to help the young women in our care learn that they are stronger than they know, the men were pulled away from the families, and the girls took the handcarts alone for about a mile. But not just any mile. A grueling and brutal mile. Part was uphill, all was in ankle deep silt. The carts were bogged down by it. The pull was extremely taxing.
The girls were watched over by the "Ma's", but we had specific instructions NOT to help. Oh, that was SO HARD! To watch those girls struggle! I knew that the lion's share of the burden was falling on Ashley and Maddi. Sweet young Tianna was not a hard worker. Maddi and Tianna ended up in front, Ashley pushing from the back. Ashley got literally coated with dust, but she never flagged in her efforts. The cart lurched and jerked to a halt several times, and I admit I stepped in to help steer it aright and to budge it forward from time to time. But I mostly walked by their side and watched these excellent girls struggle and hummed hymns of encouragement to give their minds a focus on something other than their difficulties.
The men and boys were lined up on both sides of the end of the women's pull. They watched with their hats in hand as the girls struggled past them, many of the girls weeping as they toiled, including my own girls. They watched as many of the first girls to finish turned around and quickly ran back to help other girls bring their handcarts along. Most of the boys and men had tears in their eyes, as well. While the "Ma's" and medics tended to the girls after the pull, the men pulled the boys aside and instructed them to never in this lifetime leave the women in their lives to pull the handcart alone, metaphorically speaking.
I wished I could hold all of my girls at once, but I knew that Ashley was the strongest, and Tianna's tears were mostly a reaction to Maddi's tears. Maddi was the one who was completely undone by the experience. I held her while she wept and Brother Smith (the medic) and I both kept a close eye on her for the rest of the afternoon. Still, I did manage to get hugs in for all the girls. I just worry that Ashley might have felt less love. Not so! I just knew she was my rock solid daughter and that Maddi's condition was worse. She was literally shaking uncontrollably.
Now, you might think us a heartless group of child abusers for putting the girls through such a thing. Here is some food for thought: I know what it is to overcome a physical challenge. To subject myself to my own will and accomplish a truly difficult task. You know about it if your read my account of running a marathon. And now, those girls know it, too. They have experienced a true mind over matter moment that will benefit them for the rest of their lives. It is also important to note that this was not sprung upon them, unawares. They were fully briefed in advance and no one was forced to participate. It was actually a very moving and spiritual experience for everyone involved and all the girls were very proud for having accomplished it. The boys were very respectful and impressed.
The River Crossing
After singing several hymns (giving the girls some time to recover), the boys and men took over the handcarts. Not a single girl was allowed to pull the handcarts for the rest of the day. The boys wouldn't dream of it.
On October 19, 1856, the first winter storm rolled across the Willie and Martin handcart companies. The Martin handcart company was unfortunate enough to have to cross the North Platte river right when the storm was at its worst. Even worse, in a desperate attempt to lighten their load and reach the valley more quickly, the pioneers had abandoned most of their clothing and blankets only two days prior to the storm. Soaked and freezing, they found the ground too frozen to drive the stakes in for their tents. So they crawled under the canvas laying on the ground and tried to stay alive. Many died that night.
But, help was on the way. Several weeks previous, an express wagon had passed the handcart companies on the plains and brought word of their existence and their dire need to Brigham Young, the Mormon prophet and leader, in the Salt Lake valley. Upon learning of the situation, Brigham Young immediately ordered rescue parties to set out that very day. Women stripped off their petticoats, shoes and stockings, and gathered blankets to send. Provisions were loaded on relief wagons, despite the settlement being on short rations due to a bad growing season. A rescue was on its way.
After finding the handcart pioneers in truly desperate condition, and tending to them as best they could, the rescuers still had to bring the emaciated and terribly weakened saints the rest of the way without becoming victims of the elements themselves. When they reached the final river crossing, the Sweetwater River, many of the handcart pioneers sat down in the snow and wept in despair.
Five young men from the rescue party, ranging in age from 17 to 25, stepped forward and carried the weakest of the handcart pioneers through the river, each crossing the ice choked river as much as 50 times in their efforts to save the saints.
The final challenge of our handcart trek was a river crossing. The boys were instructed to pull the handcarts through by themselves (no men helping), park them, then come back across and carry each and every one of the sisters across the river. This being a desert, and rivers being somewhat scarse, the river was a manufactured body of water. Still, the challenge of carrying over 60 girls and women across was real enough.
Bill carried me across. The grown men were only allowed to carry their wives. The young men had to do the rest. We were towards the front of the handcart train, so my "sons" had more than their share of duty in carrying girls across. I imagine they woke up this morning with very sore muscles.
And then, it was over! After the river crossing, we were just yards from the lodge. We parked the carts, met with our bishops to have a closing devotional, then unloaded the carts, power washed them, put all our gear into the supply trailers, got family photos taken, and loaded onto the buses to return home. Over all, we pulled those handcarts a total of approximately 22 miles.
It was three days of hard work, hard weather, sweat, and gross grimy shower-less-ness. But it was oh so worth it! It was really the most amazing experience and I am so very glad I got to experience it!
Pioneer Trek, Part 1
Back in February or March, our Bishop came over to our house and asked Bill and I to participate in a pioneer handcart trek reenactment as a "Ma and Pa" to some of the youth of the church during the summer.
A handcart trek sounds pretty adventurous and fun when it is 30* out. We said we'd love to.
We leave tomorrow. In the middle of July. In 100* temperatures.
Ugh.
I have come to the conclusion that people in the 1800's were WAY too hung up about showing skin. I'm going to be spending the next three days outdoors all. day. long. In the blazing sun. In the heat. In full pioneer costume.
Yup. Skirt. Apron. Blouse. Bonnet. Bloomers. Stockings. Full regalia.
No lie.
Not sounding quite so fun now, is it?
I'll let you know all about it when we get back.
A handcart trek sounds pretty adventurous and fun when it is 30* out. We said we'd love to.
We leave tomorrow. In the middle of July. In 100* temperatures.
Ugh.
I have come to the conclusion that people in the 1800's were WAY too hung up about showing skin. I'm going to be spending the next three days outdoors all. day. long. In the blazing sun. In the heat. In full pioneer costume.
Yup. Skirt. Apron. Blouse. Bonnet. Bloomers. Stockings. Full regalia.
No lie.
Not sounding quite so fun now, is it?
I'll let you know all about it when we get back.
High School and Army Reserves
My youngest is going to be a senior in high school this fall.
Yikes! How'd I get so old?
Originally, we signed him up for only morning classes at the high school, because he planned to take a computer tech class at the local applied technology college (they work in tandem with the high school offering career building skills, free tuition, and high school/college credit) that would fill his afternoons all year long. However, Will decided he would rather take an EMT course than the computer course. The EMT course is only one semester long, so he ended up with holes in his schedule for fall semester. I figured we'd get that fixed sometime this summer.
Will is joining the Army Reserves! Holy cow. I know I've talked about it before, but it just seems so much more real now that the gears are in motion. He took the real ASVAB on Monday (not the student version that is given at the local high schools), then he and I met with his recruiters that afternoon to go over his scores and choose a job specialty to be trained in (an MOS in Army acronyms). Will's ASVAB scores were quite high, opening the doors to any job the Army has to offer enlisted guys. The only limitations would be on what jobs are currently available for his projected ship out date.
The job he chose is Chemical Operations Specialist. In other words, he will be trained in maintaining and operating chemical decontamination gear used in chemical warfare, weapons of mass destruction, and/or accidental toxic spills. The job comes with a $10,000 bonus just for being willing to train for it.
So, now back to Will's high school schedule. One of the recruiters called the school to make sure he is on track to graduate next May as part of processing the paperwork for Will to swear in next Monday. There was no one at the high school, so he called the district office. When they looked up Will's schedule they told him "no". Great.
So, this morning was a mad scramble to fix it up and get all of Will's ducks in a row so there would be no problem with his enlistment. At this point I have to give a great big shout out to Mr. Bayles, the HS counselor, who called me and fixed Will's schedule while on vacation at his in-law's place!
Now Will has a full schedule including some weight lifting, PE, psychology, and digital photography added in with his regular math, English, and whatnot. And the EMT class to look forward to in the Spring!
So. All the ducks are in a row.
Will reports in to the recruiters on Sunday evening. They will take him up to a hotel by the base in SLC overnight, then he will spend Monday being poked and prodded by Army doctors during his military physical. Monday afternoon, he will swear in as a member of the Army Reserves.
!!!!!
To those of you who might think it is a shame he isn't going to college...
He is going to college. That is why he is doing Army Reserves instead of regular Army. The recruiters emphasized that we will get his college admissions and registration all squared away BEFORE his ship out date (June 30, 2014) so that as soon as he returns from Basic Training and Job Training (AIT... the Army and their acronyms!), he can start school without any difficulties. The Army's tuition assistance and GI Bills are going to be paying for it. He currently plans to get a bachelors of Aviation Science and become a pilot. He will serve as an enlisted soldier while working on his college degree and possibly even join ROTC while in college and become an officer.
I am so proud of you, Will!!!
Yikes! How'd I get so old?
Originally, we signed him up for only morning classes at the high school, because he planned to take a computer tech class at the local applied technology college (they work in tandem with the high school offering career building skills, free tuition, and high school/college credit) that would fill his afternoons all year long. However, Will decided he would rather take an EMT course than the computer course. The EMT course is only one semester long, so he ended up with holes in his schedule for fall semester. I figured we'd get that fixed sometime this summer.
Will is joining the Army Reserves! Holy cow. I know I've talked about it before, but it just seems so much more real now that the gears are in motion. He took the real ASVAB on Monday (not the student version that is given at the local high schools), then he and I met with his recruiters that afternoon to go over his scores and choose a job specialty to be trained in (an MOS in Army acronyms). Will's ASVAB scores were quite high, opening the doors to any job the Army has to offer enlisted guys. The only limitations would be on what jobs are currently available for his projected ship out date.
The job he chose is Chemical Operations Specialist. In other words, he will be trained in maintaining and operating chemical decontamination gear used in chemical warfare, weapons of mass destruction, and/or accidental toxic spills. The job comes with a $10,000 bonus just for being willing to train for it.
So, now back to Will's high school schedule. One of the recruiters called the school to make sure he is on track to graduate next May as part of processing the paperwork for Will to swear in next Monday. There was no one at the high school, so he called the district office. When they looked up Will's schedule they told him "no". Great.
So, this morning was a mad scramble to fix it up and get all of Will's ducks in a row so there would be no problem with his enlistment. At this point I have to give a great big shout out to Mr. Bayles, the HS counselor, who called me and fixed Will's schedule while on vacation at his in-law's place!
Now Will has a full schedule including some weight lifting, PE, psychology, and digital photography added in with his regular math, English, and whatnot. And the EMT class to look forward to in the Spring!
So. All the ducks are in a row.
Will reports in to the recruiters on Sunday evening. They will take him up to a hotel by the base in SLC overnight, then he will spend Monday being poked and prodded by Army doctors during his military physical. Monday afternoon, he will swear in as a member of the Army Reserves.
!!!!!
To those of you who might think it is a shame he isn't going to college...
He is going to college. That is why he is doing Army Reserves instead of regular Army. The recruiters emphasized that we will get his college admissions and registration all squared away BEFORE his ship out date (June 30, 2014) so that as soon as he returns from Basic Training and Job Training (AIT... the Army and their acronyms!), he can start school without any difficulties. The Army's tuition assistance and GI Bills are going to be paying for it. He currently plans to get a bachelors of Aviation Science and become a pilot. He will serve as an enlisted soldier while working on his college degree and possibly even join ROTC while in college and become an officer.
I am so proud of you, Will!!!
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