Today’s guest post is by frequent commenter Pirate Priest.

This is my second guest post here at W&T – I’m grateful to have been invited back. A few weeks ago Angela mentioned a funny experience while helping her ward organize a pioneer trek when some of her fellow leaders argued that the young women should wear a ridiculous number of layers just in case one of them tripped while trekking and gave some “poor” boy a glimpse of thigh. This got me thinking about funny stories from my own trek experiences but, more seriously, about why us Mormons do the trek experience at all. What lessons are so critical that we’re willing to drag kids (and ourselves) off into the desert dressed in more layers than actual pioneers? 

There are, of course, the usual valuable lessons in faith and perseverance. But as I thought about it more deeply, there is a whole side of pioneer history that’s almost entirely overlooked but that holds very different, but equally important, lessons.

Trek 

For any who aren’t familiar with Mormon pioneer treks (usually just referred to as “trek”), they are historical re-enactments of pioneers trekking  across the United States to come to Utah. It’s similar to other types of historical re-enactments where participants will dress in period attire and try to get a taste of how it would have been to live through that time in history. The trek craze started in about 1997 with the Mormon Pioneer Sesquicentennial with many Treks being operated by the LDS church. Essentially leaders and youth drive to the middle of nowhere for a few days of handcart pulling, camping, and (hopefully) spiritual inspiration. 

Pioneer treks were the new cool thing when I was a teen, so our leaders weren’t entirely sure how to help us prepare. It was a six-hour drive one way to get to Martin’s Cove. It was the peak of summer and the heat was unbearable before dressing like we’d stepped of a boat from Victorian England. The dust was suffocating, many of us felt compelled to be there, but we still tried to find a spiritual upside…at least until a pack of coyotes came through camp on the first night and ate most of our food. It was probably a bit more of an authentic experience than the leaders were hoping for. 

Willie and Martin 

The handcart movement began in 1856 when Brigham Young sought a cheaper, faster way to move poor European converts to Utah. Converts would sail from England to New York or Boston, take a train as far west as possible, then begin pulling handcarts west. Despite the misery of hiking 1300 miles while pulling a 300-pound wheelbarrow, eight of the ten handcart treks went quite smoothly. There were some deaths and hardship, but overall their trips were relatively uneventful. For the fourth and fifth companies, however, it was a much different story. 

The Willie and Martin companies arrived late from England when nobody was expecting them. Weeks passed as they scrambled to prepare for the journey, which pushed the timeline dangerously late in the season. A  debate was held to decide whether they should continue the journey or wait until spring; the recent European emigrants deferred the decision to missionaries and church agents who were familiar with the crossing. One missionary, Levi Savage, argued that travelling at that time of year with a mixed company of women, young children, and the elderly would result in suffering, sickness, and death. All remaining church leaders said the companies should press on to Utah and that they’d be protected by divine intervention. Disaster ensued. 

Before the’d left Nebraska many of the cattle used to pull the supply wagons were lost in a stampede, forcing each handcart to carry an extra 100 pounds of flour. When they reached Fort Laramie to restock their supplies, no supplies were available. In an attempt to speed their progress by lightening their load, the luggage allowance was cut by from 17 lbs to 10 lbs, leading the travellers to discard much-needed clothing and blankets. A blizzard then descended on the region, halting all progress while the pioneers were quickly freezing and starving to death.  

Many a father pulled his cart, with his little children on it, until the day preceding his death. 

John Chislett, survivor

George D. Grant, who headed the party dispatched to rescue the companies, gave this account: 

…Imagine between five and six hundred men, women and children, worn down by drawing hand carts through snow and mud; fainting by the wayside; falling, chilled by the cold; children crying, their limbs stiffened by cold, their feet bleeding and some of them bare to snow and frost. The sight is almost too much for the stoutest of us; but we go on doing all we can, not doubting nor despairing.

George D. Grant

By the time the companies reached Salt Lake more than 214 had died, with countless more having fingers, toes, and limbs amputated due to frostbite. 

Only about 5% of pioneers migrated in handcart companies, but their stories are ingrained as important Mormon symbols of faithfulness, sacrifice, and perseverance. We use phrases like, “faith in every footstep,” and “endure to the end.” Elder Bednar just spoke in conference about “they of the last wagon” – the quiet faithful at the back of the wagon train eating all the dust but still pressing on. Even “the covenant path” conjures images of pioneers faithfully trekking along the trail. 

All these lessons are inspiring and important, but I’m found asking myself, why didn’t they just quit in Nebraska? 

First, let’s look at another group of brave people facing death an dismemberment on an icy trail: adventurers climbing Mount Everest. 

Into Thin Air 

In March of 1996 members from three separate expeditions attempted to summit Mount Everest. A powerful storm descended onto the mountain during their climb, and the climbers battled hurricane-force winds, freezing temperatures, fatigue, and lack of oxygen as they fought to get safely down the mountain. In just 24 hours, eight climbers would die on the mountain, making the deadliest disaster on Everest until the 2014 avalanche. This is the story recounted by John Krakauer in his best-selling book Into Thin Air and the subsequent movie of the same name. As usual, we tend to focus on the story of heroic determination and grit in the face of icy death. 

Krakauer’s book is riveting, but there’s another story from that same day on Mount Everest that rarely gets told. Three climbers were on the mountain that day whose names usually aren’t mentioned: Dr. Stuart Hutchison, Dr. John Taske, and Lou Kasischke. 

The mountain was unusually crowded that day with three separate expeditions simultaneously attempting to reach the summit. Hutchinson, Taske, and Kasischke unluckily got stuck behind a large group of relatively inexperienced climbers who had clumped together making them difficult to pass. Before they’d left camp, expedition leaders had emphasized the importance of strictly observed turnaround times. Climbers attempting to summit Everest are are given a turnaround time; if climbers fail to reach the summit before the allotted time, they are to stop climbing and return to camp. The descent down Everest is much more difficult and technical than the ascent – climbers are eight times more likely to die coming down than when going up. The risk of a nighttime descent multiplies the danger of a deadly mistake, especially on the Southeast Ridge where a misstep can lead to a deadly 8000-foot fall on one side and a 12,000-foot fall down the other. Thus, turnaround times are used to keep an already-dangerous descent from becoming even more deadly. 

After climbing for 12 straight hours and failing to pass the slower group, the trio debated about what to do. It was 11:30 am, the turnaround time was 1:00 pm, and an expedition leader had just told them it would be another three hours to the summit. The three climbers realized they would never reach the summit before the turnaround time and decided to cut their losses despite each of them having spent ~$70,000 to join the expedition. Hutchinson, Taske and Kasischke returned to camp without any complications and eventually left the mountain and returned home. 

Not exactly the stuff of a Hollywood blockbuster, but I’m not sure their friends and family cared much about that. 

Quit 

This alternate story from that day on Everest was recounted by Annie Duke in her bookQuit. Duke was working on her PhD in psychology and was one month from

defending her dissertation when she quit academia to pursue a successful career as a professional poker player. She now combines her knowledge of psychology and poker to help people improve their decision making skills. Duke teaches that perseverance, while important, isn’t always a virtue, and that knowing when to quit is just as critical as having the grit to endure difficult situations. She teaches what Kenny Rogers’ song The Gambler has been trying to teach us for 45 years: 

You’ve got to know when to hold ’em 

Know when to fold ’em 

Know when to walk away 

And know when to run 

Kenny Rogers, The Gambler

According to Duke, life is not like chess – there isn’t some perfect move that will win the game if we can just calculate correctly. Rather, life is like poker – it’s a combination of skill and luck. We need to learn to accept what we can’t control and adjust our choices to benefit us over the long term. 

Let’s return to the pioneers: What would have happened if they had temporarily folded and simply waited for spring? 

Just how we rarely remember Hutchinson, Taske, and Kasischke abandoning their Everest ascent to return safely home, we also rarely remember the ~100 pioneers who stayed in Nebraska and waited for warmer weather. These pioneers still made it to Salt Lake just a few months later, but (more importantly) arrived with their families and bodies intact. We often talk about the blessings associated with hardship, but I’m left asking which group of pioneers was the most “blessed” in this situation? Those who were starving and freezing in the wilderness while burying loved ones in shallow frozen graves? Or those who simply quit when the odds weren’t in their favor and resumed when the scales had rebalanced? 

The lessons we learn 

We as humans tend to focus on the heroic stories of grit and determination, and make movies about those who persevered. While perseverance and endurance are often virtuous and inspiring, they aren’t universally the right choice. We should also learn from those who quit wisely. We should learn the importance of perseverance from the pioneers, but we should also learn when and where to apply grit to our advantage.

Now I ask for your input: 

  • Is there a time when you persevered when it may have been wiser to quit and/or adjust course? 
  • When have you quit and realized it was the right (or wrong) decision? What other inspirational church stories might have a different valuable lesson hidden on the other side of the coin? 
  • How can we teach the youth to make good decisions about when to quit and when to persevere?

Disclaimer: Given the audience here at W&T, I’m sure the topic of quitting the church will come up. My purpose here is not to encourage others to follow suit or to judge those who have decided to take that path. Rather, I believe that we can learn from those around us, even if we may disagree or choose a different path.