Day One (just a little late)

I wrote this on the day of, but this is the first time I have had internet and been able to post.

Day One: Huntsville to Lander, WY

Well, here we are again!!! Day one is over.

I woke up EARLY (too early) to say goodbye to Emergent, who is leaving for Girl’s Camp and won’t join us for a while. I went up to the church with her to get a new temple recommend (I lost mine…for the third time in about 3 months).

By about eight, everyone was up and running around like crazy people, trying to feed and pack children, and add a few miscellaneous items (such as toothbrushes and Enchantress).

Ultimately, we got everyone loaded and waved goodbye to Grandma.

We will be following a church history tour that my grandpa is on for the first two weeks.

Our first stop was at Supplication Hill in Echo Canyon. Supplication Hill is just basically a group of cool red rocks. What makes it special is what happened there.

First group photo!

By the time the saints were in Echo Canyon, they were very close to Salt Lake (at least as the crow flies, or as the car drives). Their leader, Brigham Young, was very sick. 

Some were concerned that he would not live to see the Salt Lake Valley. So the brethren found a temple-of-nature, and knelt in prayer, or supplication (hence the name). He recovered soon after.

Driving down Echo Canyon was pretty cool. Along one side there is a tall, red cliff. 

Also in Echo Canyon

We also stopped at the Green River Ferry.

It was beautiful, and had lots and lots and lots of red ants and mosquitoes.  

Elegant, me, Enthusiastic, and Radiant

My Mom and Aunt, looking so sweet:)

Our guide told us that when the metal-rimmed wagon wheels would turn and turn on the journey west, they would sometimes strike rocks. The slight traces of metal left on the rocks will rust over time. So the way to follow the pioneer’s trail over most of Wyoming is to look for rusted rocks. He gave us one. It is pretty cool to think that the rock that I am touching also touched one of the pioneer’s wagons.

Next was Fort Bridger.

I really enjoyed that…after all, I have read The Work and The Glory several times!  Seeing some of these sights that I have read about, was just…cool. There is no other word for it. They had a gift shop, and so my cousins bought some souvenirs (they were weapons, of course).

Cute little Enchantress waiting patiently

My cousins...with their weapons

Windswept Enthusiastic

Next was the most interesting part of the day. The whole day we were chasing the tour bus. We felt like spies sometimes, or police. 

Anyhow, we were following our bus when it suddenly turned off onto a dirt road. We followed. And followed. And Followed. I swear that was the longest (and bumpiest) dirt road ever!

Not sure why this one has a green tint to it.

There were some really funny comments made during this part. Expressive went up to mom and asked, all innocent, “Mom, when will the fun start?!?” Oh dear!!! That was a bit of a crushing comment for poor mom, who has planned this for upwards of two years!

I think we felt a little of what the pioneers at the end of the wagon train must have felt. I didn't even know that one bus could make that much dust! Grandpa, who rode with us for this part, leaned over and informed us, very seriously, “We are following the wrong bus. The bus we started following was white; this one is brown!” He was teasing, of course, and luckily it WAS the right bus.

During this time, Elegant also asked if this whole trip was really just a test to see how long we could follow the bus. I had a lot of fun playing with Grandpa’s tablet during this part, as evidenced by the pictures below.

The landscape is pretty boring ...

... until you add some effects!

The bus we have been chasing...(with a cartoon effect)

The same effect on mom and Enchantress.

We finally got to where we were going, which turned out to be a little tiny cabin in the middle of the middle of nowhere (see, Wyoming is already in the middle of nowhere, so we were in the middle of nowhere in the middle of nowhere).

This little tiny, beautiful spot was silent witness to some of the greatest acts of charity and love that have ever happened. This little spot harbored the Willie handcart company for a while, after they climbed one of the most challenging parts of their trek westward, Rocky Ridge.

There were two monuments there: the first was the gravestone for the thirteen people who died in this little cove, the other is the monument honoring the second rescue.

One of the people buried there was an eleven year old boy, who carried his six year old brother on his back the whole of the fourteen, rocky, mountainous, miles that must have seemed never-ending. The weather was about 10 degrees Fahrenheit, and the wind was howling; it was bitterly cold. This brave child carried his brother over the mountain, then finally laid him at the feet of their mother (who had been helping her other, crippled, child through the climb). Once he had set his charge down, this courageous boy fell to the ground beside his brother; the only difference was that his brother would live to the ripe old age of 77, whereas this faithful boy died just moments later. Many of those who died there gave their life for another. What a heritage we come from! We must never forget their sacrifices.

The other monument is to the second rescue. You probably know about the first one; when Brigham sent faithful brethren with supplies to help the stranded handcart companies.

But the second is less well known. A while ago, some members of stakes nearby this little hallowed cove, realized that the temple work for many of these saints had never been done! So they organized a second rescue, a massive effort that involved doing the work for about five thousand individuals.

This monument was inspiring, especially right after the sobering stories of the sacrifices of the pioneers.

It reminded me that although I was not there to help rescue and comfort these great souls, though I never pulled a handcart, and live a life of luxury, though I have never been threatened with death unless I renounce my faith, though I was born too late for that, I can still rescue, I can still stand up for what I believe in, I can still comfort sorrowing and hurting people who are precious children of God.

I may not pull a handcart, but I can most certainly work a computer! I CAN be a rescuer – in many ways. I can find the names of those who have not received temple ordinances, and I CAN be an example of the believers. I CAN reach out to many of God’s children, and I CAN live so that my life can be a light. I can do it, and so can you.