Taylor and Hinckley traveled to Deseret land and Livestock with our stake for Trek. Hinckley REALLY did not want to go, and mom was very nervous to send her with her diabetes, but she went! I am so proud of both her and Taylor who I am sure was a huge asset to her family.
Monday, July 6, 2026
Well, it's officially happening. Tonight we all showed up at the Stake Center to drop off buckets and sleeping bags, and somewhere between the organized chaos of gear check-in and finding out your sleeping bag is either way too big or suspiciously small, it hit everyone at once: trek is two days away.
We've been preparing for this for months—the training, the devotionals, the planning meetings. But there's something about seeing all that gear stacked up that makes it real. These aren't just young men and young women heading out for a camping trip. They're about to walk in the footsteps of pioneers who crossed the plains on faith, with far less in their buckets and far more in their hearts.
We're so proud of every single one of them. And we can't wait to tell you all about it.
See you on the trail—updates start Wednesday!
Wednesday, July 8, 2026
Day 1 is in the books. Here's how it went.
6:00 AM: The Stake Center parking lot was buzzing. The Relief Society had breakfast ready (bless them), and our pioneers showed up with their gear, their families, and varying levels of being awake. By 7:00 we were on the road, lunches in hand, headed for Deseret Land and Livestock.
The drive up was its own kind of adventure, and when we arrived at Deseret Land and Livestock, the setting made it clear we were not in St. George anymore. Everyone gathered into their trek families, and the handcart packing began—which turns out to be a mix of teamwork, negotiation, and creative spatial reasoning.
At 2:00 PM, the command to leave came, and just like that, handcart wheels were turning and boots were on the trail. There's something about that moment—connecting ourselves to the thousands of pioneers who really did make this journey by faith—that gives you a little more pep in your step. At least for the first mile or two.
Then the sky opened up. What started as a few stray drops turned into a full-on downpour, and within minutes everyone—every last pioneer, family, and handcart—was drenched to the bone. There was no outrunning it and no point trying to stay dry, so people just leaned into it: laughing, pushing carts through the mud, and getting a small taste of what the real pioneers faced when the weather turned against them. It's one thing to read about hardship on the trail. It's another to feel your boots squelch with every step.
We covered about 5 miles and made it to McFarland Camp. Feet were tired, clothes were soaked, and spirits were high.
That evening, once camp was set and everyone had a chance to dry off a little and eat dinner, we gathered for a fireside that ended up being one of the powerful moments of the day. Sitting together after a day of pushing carts in the rain, we talked about what it means to walk with Christ.
Day 1: done and done.
Thursday, July 9, 2026
We knew this moment was coming. We've talked about it in preparation meetings and devotionals. But nothing quite prepares you for actually watching it happen.
The young men and the fathers stepped off the trail and watched as the young women took hold of the handcarts and pulled. It's a tradition rooted in honoring the real women of the Martin and Willie handcart companies—women who pulled and pushed and prayed and kept going when everything was hard. You could feel that history today. These young women felt it too.
The Savior's love for each of these young people was almost tangible standing on that hillside. He knows what it's like to carry a heavy load. He doesn't step away from us in hard moments—and today, the young women on that hill showed everyone watching what it looks like to trust in that.
To the young women who pulled: we are so proud of you. And we are pretty sure the pioneers are too.
Thursday, July 9, 2026
The pioneers worked hard. They also knew how to have a good time. Today we got to do both.
The afternoon was filled with pioneer activities, and we are happy to report that the youth of the St. George North Stake rose to the challenge with enthusiasm and varying degrees of success. There was 9 square, tug-of-war, a slate of races that got more competitive with every round, slingshot target practice, cornhole, and the Oreo-off-the-forehead challenge.
And then the Hoedown.
Every year people wonder if the youth will actually get into the hoedown. Every year the answer is yes, absolutely, with full commitment. Boots were stomping. Hands were clapping. Do-si-dos were attempted with wildly different outcomes. Someone was showing off. Someone else was doing their best and honestly that counts for everything.
The pioneers danced too, you know. After long weeks on the trail they would gather and sing and dance because joy is not something you put on hold until life gets easier. It's something you choose right in the middle of it. Good lesson from our ancestors, and a really fun Thursday night.
Friday, July 10, 2026
We're not going to sugarcoat it—Day 3 is a long one. Two days of trail already in your legs, a loaded handcart, and the only way forward is forward. The pioneers didn't have a rest day option either, so today we really were walking in their shoes.
On the trail, we had a moment that made the whole day worth it. Ephraim Hanks rode into camp with mail from home. Every youth received a letter from a parent. Trail-worn as everyone was, watching them tear open those envelopes and read words from home—some of them right there on the spot, some tucking it away to read privately—was a reminder of exactly the kind of connection the pioneers relied on to keep going.
We then continued trekking. Something happens when you get tired enough that you stop thinking about being tired. You just put your head down, push the cart, and suddenly you notice the person next to you is doing the same thing, and you both start laughing about it, and then somehow the next mile is behind you.
Camp came into view and a feeling of relief came. Another day done. The youth of this stake did not quit today, and that means something. Dinner has never been more earned.
Friday, July 10, 2026
Tonight started with a devotional around camp, where President and Sister Wilding spoke to us before we broke off into our companies. Each youth wrote down two things: something they wanted to leave behind, and something they wanted to take with them. The things they wanted to leave—habits, fears, whatever was weighing them down—got buried in a hole in the ground, gone for good. The things they wanted to take with them went into their journals, something to carry home and keep.
From there, we split into our four companies for testimony meeting. Each company is really just four or five families who've walked together all week, so by the time everyone sat down, these weren't strangers bearing testimony to a crowd—they were kids talking to the people who'd watched them struggle up every hill and kept walking beside them anyway.
To the youth who were there: hold onto tonight. Remember what you buried and why. Remember what you wrote down to keep. And remember who was sitting next to you when you said what you said.
One more day. See you at the finish line.
Saturday, July 11, 2026
The last miles.
It's a funny thing about the final day of trek. You've never wanted your bed more in your life, and at the same time you kind of don't want it to end. The trail feels like home. The families feel like family. Turns out four days, 20+ miles, and shared blisters will do that.
We started the morning the same way we started every morning with family devotionals and breakfast. But today it felt a little different because we all knew that it was the last day. With nervous excitement, we loaded up the handcarts one last time ready to hit the trail.
Then tragedy struck. Several key members of each company were taken away to help the families appreciate what it was like for the pioneers to lose loved ones along the trail. Like the pioneers, the families closed ranks and kept going.
During a difficult climb on the trail, the deceased family members—adorned with a white sash—rejoined to help their families up the hill. They did this to remind us of the pioneers who testified that when they could push no further, the angels pushed their carts for them. Reunited for the final stretch, the wagon train pushed on.
At noon, we arrived. Handcarts unloaded, packs dropped, and 20+ total miles officially behind us. Several youth (and leaders) found the refrigerated trailer and tried to cool off after a hot and dusty morning. We then celebrated with hot pizza, cooked on location with portable pizza ovens.
To the youth reading this:
You just walked 20+ miles. You pulled a handcart. You made it through the long day. You felt the Spirit. You now know something about yourself, about the pioneers, and about your Heavenly Father's love that you didn't know before you left. That's why we do this.
Welcome home, pioneers. We're so glad you went.
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