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.