Walking the Mormon Trail: Nauvoo, Ilinois

I'm twenty nine years old. Almost 30. Soon you won't be able to call me a young man anymore. Just a man.

This year, as I say goodbye to the straggling remnants of my boyhood, I made room for one more youthful emprise--one more junior dream: I'm attempting to walk the Mormon Trail. Its been an aspiration since I was twelve. My father filled me with a love for the Mormon Pioneers; I grew up with heros like Orson Hyde, Brigham Young and Parley P. Pratt. I read their stories and wished I could've filled their ranks as they marched west--leaving lush, green midwest ground for the harsh, dusty mountain lands of Utah.

In 1993, on my first home teaching visit ever (with my father as my companion), we visited the Larson family in Atascocita, Texas. Home teaching is a unique Latter Day Saint custom where families visit other families once a month; visiting, teaching, and seeing if there is any help that might be needed. We had a great time chatting with Brother Larson. He was always very welcoming. On that first visit and many subsequent visits he related stories of his son who was currently walking the Appalachian Trail. It was then that I realized that one day I might be able to actually do it. I could walk the Mormon trail with Brigham and Orson and Parley.

I've held on to that dream for a long time, and finally, everything has come together to let me give it a try. I took off time from work, cleared my summer of graduate work, research, and responsibility, and began making the necessary preparations earlier this year. Part of those preparations included building a handcart (pictured below). Taking a cart will not only allow me to conveniently carry Parley (my dog) if he gets hurt, but it will also allow me to take plenty of water when I attempt the most dangerous part of the trip: the dry plains of Wyoming.

My hand made handcart. Built from PVC pipe, old bicycle parts and spare lumber.

The Mormon Trail. Click on the map for a larger image.

I'll be the first to admit, this is an ambitious adventure. The trail spans the Great Plains, climbs over the Rocky Mountains and spills into the Great Basin. It starts in Nauvoo, Illinois and ends in Salt Lake City, Utah. And though much of the trail is dotted with towns, many miles are lonely and dry and barren. Honestly, I'm a little scared. Not only of what might happen to me or my canine companion, but mostly that I might not finish. The difficulties may defeat me. But I still have to try.

Its the night before I begin my journey. I'm writing from a hotel room in old Nauvoo. Just as the early Latter Day Saints did, I attended the Nauvoo Temple in anticipation of my departure. Sitting in the celestial room earlier this evening I pondered all the steps I have in front of me. According to my calculations it will take me over two and a half million to bring me home. Can I make it? I don't know. But I am determined to give it my best try, dedicating my effort to those Saints who have gone before me and laid the foundation for Zion. And, to all my family and my many friends whom I have met and loved along the way--this is also for you. Maybe through reading my account, you will remember that with God's help, nothing is impossible--that your dreams can come true!

Me just outside of the Navuoo Temple

Please return often to this site to review my account of the journey. I will be writing letters back home to a friend who will be transcribing them to this site. Thanks for reading. Look forward to more...