Trek

Pushing the cart through the mud.
Madison
Danny
Base camp.
Kelsey with the baby.
Crossing the Sweetwater River. The run-off was so deep that this was the only place we crossed the river. Some young men re-enacted carrying young women across. The water was ice cold. We crossed the cart over too.
One of my grand-daughters, Kathryn, is holding the "baby" that Ma had on the first day. Our Pa, Danny, wanted to name the baby Francis. Good thing that the baby was a cabbage patch because Danny put the baby in his backpack and lost the pack for hours while we were putting up tents. On Tuesday night, a leader told us that the baby died of exposure. It would have stunk to have a baby while walking thousands of miles west.
We walked in mud most of the morning on Tuesday. It was easier to take off our shoes and throw them in the cart. I totally fell in to one of the puddles (with the camera). Every time I thought it was safe to put my tennis shoes back on we would come to mud again and I would have to rip them off.
Grandma and Grandpa Malm waiting to be assigned our fist handcart.
Our family: L-R: Lizzie, Kathryn, Madison, Kelsy (ma), Nate, Joel, Danny (pa), Brady.

For the last three days Mike, I and Jon went with the youth to do a pioneer trek. We rode 6 hours to Martin's Cove (an hour out of Rawlins, Wyoming). Mike and I were sorted into a family as grandparents with a ma and pa and six children. We were assigned a handcart and crossed the Oregon (aka California, Mormon and Pony Express) Trail.

Our family decided that our pioneer ancestors were total studs. We were immersed in the experience with histories, stories, re-enactments and camping. We had a great time and had a very choice family.