Yesterday in Utah we celebrated a state holiday, Pioneer Day, commemorating the Mormon pioneers and their arrival in the Salt Lake Valley. The pioneers, in case you aren’t familiar with the history, had a monumental struggle during their journey. Nothing about it was easy, many of them died, and I think a few of them accidentally ate each other.
We weren’t meaning to, but we ended up celebrating Pioneer Day by having a few struggles of our own. Our plan was to get up early, head up the canyon, have breakfast, and go for a hike. That probably sounds just as simple as Brigham Young saying back then, “Pack your wagons, folks, we’re going for a walk.”
First of all, I woke up Max and found, as I was rustling him and pulling the covers off, that he had a nice warm wet spot all around him.
Ugh.
So, I stripped the bed, stripped the child, washed the mattress, washed the child and grumbled all the way. I wonder how many wagon-wetters there were in 1847.
We headed up the canyon and arrived at The Silver Fork Lodge for breakfast. We’d never eaten there before, but it was on the way to our hike and I’d heard it was good. We were seated quickly out on the patio overlooking the gorgeous pines, and that was sort of the only good part of the experience.
Long story short, we sat at our table and struggled to get a waitress, a glass of water, an opportunity to place an order, and an actual plate of food. We watched a darling young couple with a baby arrive at least 20 minutes after us. They came, ordered, ate, got their check, paid, and left BEFORE WE EVER GOT OUR FOOD. The pioneers struggled to get food too. Often, by the time they reached the next Arby’s Drive-Thru, the restaurant was already closed.
Our plan was to do the Twin Lakes hike, which is located near our favorite Sunday afternoon strolling ground, Silver Lake. We’d heard it was a good and somewhat easy hike, so we hit the trail. Five steps into our ascent, Max announced that he wanted to hold me, which is kind of ironic because when he says that he actually means that he wants me to carry him. I guess he sort of was “holding me” but only because I would have dropped him if he hadn’t been clinging to my neck.
Not much further into the hike, we met up with a man who was heading back down. Ryan asked him how much further we had and if we looked like the type who could make it to the top without killing over. He said we had quite a bit left and that the last third of the hike was fairly steep.
“That’s all I need to know, Brigham,” I said under my breath.
We thanked him and he moved on. Then we had a quick family meeting. It went like this:
Me: OK, I’m going back down with Max.
Ryan: OK. Christian, do you want to finish this hike?
Christian: Sure.
Me: Bye. See you at the bottom.
Can you imagine what a great pioneer I would have been? I seriously would have chosen angry mobs at home over trail life any day. When we all finally met up, I asked them how it was. Ryan said it was pretty rough at the end and then said, “I don’t know if you could have done it.”
“I couldn’t have done it holding Max,” I said.
“I mean without Max. I don’t think you could have done it.”
Ahem?
Let’s be clear here. I could kick the crap out of that hike. It’s just that I choose not to go around frivolously burning calories. OK? OK.
The rest of the day was pretty boring and uneventful. In honor of the Donner Party, Lucy did her best to eat Christian, who has every reason to be a little jumpy around dog teeth. I keep encouraging him to act calm and refrain from impersonating a very big, salty chew toy.
We lazed around during the rainstorm in the afternoon and evening, then made our way over to Andrea’s for rootbeer floats and fireworks where we had a good time.
It really wasn’t the worst day ever, it was just mildly disappointing. We are usually really good at having fun, and having to struggle so hard for it was exhausting and discouraging. And as I laid in bed contemplating the day’s events, I realized that the pioneers must have had very different expectations for their trip to their promised land. I bet they thought there was going to be a lot more time for practical jokes, and at least a few amusement parks or shopping malls along the way.
This is now my favorite pioneer story! I love the part about “we are usually really good at having fun . . .” well said.
You would have made a great pioneer. And you would have kept a great journal, which we would be sharing with your (our) posterity, but instead your blog will be shared with your posterity. I’m not a scholar in church history, but I’m fairly certain the Donner Party was not composed of Latter-day Saints, and I know for sure they were not following Brigham. They were not of one common religious persuasion and were California bound. The Martin-Willy handcart company of LDS pioneers suffered the most, starting late and poorly equipped. Heroism marked their tragic journey. The vast majority of pioneers had an arduous, but successful trek, kind of like Ryan and Christian. Well, maybe a little harder and longer.
PS I’m glad you were brave enough to wait to be born when I could be your mom.
Thanks, Mom, for the clarification. We Mormons do NOT eat each other and we never have.
I was never very good at history…
I know I would make a crappy pioneer.
I’m sad that you didn’t have a good experience at Silver Fork Lodge. I love that place. In fact, when my dad lived in Utah, that was where he would take me for my b-day dinner every year. Nothing beats the fresh canyon air while enjoying good food. I assure you that next time you (or we) go, your experience will be much more enjoyable.
BTW…did you know that AZ doesn’t celebrate the 24th of July
JK (I know it’s a UT holiday), I had to celebrate Pioneer Day sitting at my desk. I think if you are from UT you should get the day off too.
I agree with Dede, if you are From Utah, you should get the day off. However, if you live in Ohio, then the whole month of July is one long fireworks show anyway! We did absolutely nothing poineer related yesterday. I would have been a lousy pioneer, but that wasn’t my lot.
I’ve known a few wagon wetters in my day. And for the record, I would have made, at the very least, an interesting pioneer lady. I’m not one for long dresses or wearing the same underwear for a month,and I love McDonalds. I do think about the pioneers a lot and am way grateful that I don’t have to physically suffer like they. I’ve would have cried all the way to Salt Lake.
I have to agree. I had a day full of trials when all I wanted to do was make a dutch oven dinner…you know, to remember the pioneers. Actually it just sounded good and since I’ve never ventured to make my own I did last night, and it turned out pretty good. I wish I could have shared with the pioneers, they would have loved my cooking.
“Pack your wagons folks, we’re going on a walk” would have been the meanest joke to play on those Pioneers. I like to think they kind of knew that it would be a little hard at times!
THE DONNER PARTY
Remains of Donner-Reed wagons on the Salt Flats
Tragedy was no stranger to western trails, but the sad experience of this ill-fated group has come to symbolize the hardships of all.
A large, well equipped wagon train rolled toward California in 1846. It crossed the plains without difficulty, but as it neared Fort Bridger a dispute arose. They had read Lansford Hastings’ book, The Emigrants Guide to Oregon and California which suggested a shorter route and advertised that Hastings would guide those interested himself. The route- which headed west from Fort Bridger through the Wasatch Mountains, around the southern end of the Great Salt Lake, across the Salt Desert and on to the Humboldt River-was untested by wagons. Still, many were inclined to take it.
The company split and the majority took the longer northern route. The smaller division, joined by several small groups and individuals, headed for Hastings’ Cutoff. They were eighty-seven men, women and children with twenty wagons led by Jacob Donner and James Reed.
At the Weber River they found a note from their guide telling them to turn south and cut a road over the mountain, in the sarcastic words of Reed’s journal, “instead of the canyon which is impassible although 60 wagons passed through.” They camped there four days while Reed rode down the Weber to find Hastings and obtain better guidance. Hastings was guiding two other trains and declined to go back. However, he gave specific instructions on the trail he had used two months earlier.
It was now 10 August and the new way looked shorter and less troublesome. But instead of three days fighting over the Weber Canyon boulders, they spent twelve cutting a road through brush and timber into the Salt Lake Valley.
Moving swiftly South of the Great Salt Lake, they paused one day to take on water and grass, then plunged into the Great Salt Lake Desert on 30 August. Driving day and night, they dared not stop. But the ground was evidently softer than it had been for the preceding companies. The crossing took six days rather than the two predicted by Hastings. Four of their wagons and many of the animals were lost.
Knowing that time was now critical, they made a swift dash across Nevada, but with no rest the stock could not make the pull over the Sierras before early snows blocked the high passes in late October. Of the eighty-two, forty-seven survived the starvation and cannabalism to be rescued by parties coming east from Sutter’s Fort in February and March, 1847. Thirty-five perished in the snow and cold of the Sierra Nevadas, while five died before they reached the mountains. Two Indians also lost their lives in the rescue attempts. The Donner Party’s fate insured that the Hastings cutoff would not be used by later wagon trains. However the trail they cut through the Wasatch Mountains was the main road into Utah for a decade.
See: Charles F. McGlashan, History of the Donner Party, (1907, 1947); George R. Stewart, Ordeal by Hunger: Story of the Donner Party, (1960); and The California Trail, (1962).
Dale Beecher