Stern impassioned stress

One phrase in the song, America the Beautiful, by Katherine Lee Bates uses the words “whose stern impassioned stress a thoroughfare of freedom beat” to describe the path the feet of the pioneers made crossing the wilderness to the west.

“Stern impassioned stress” is evocative of the determination and perseverance that those hardy folks evidenced as they crossed a wilderness full of snakes, wolves, buffalo, bad weather, oppressive heat, and hostile native Americans.

On entirely another level, the phrase reminded me of a fairly easy hike our family took in the early 1990s up Adams Canyon. This hike covers about three miles each way. At the top of the canyon is a 30-foot waterfall with a shallow cool pool at its base.

The first part of the hike was switchbacks that enabled us to get up a foothill and into the canyon proper – somewhat laborious, but we were fresh and the day was not too hot as yet. As we entered the canyon, the trail was hard-packed and easy to follow. Many hundreds (probably thousands) had gone before us, so the way was easy. There was plenty of shade, and the trail followed a creek all the way up to the waterfall. We were cautioned, however, to bring our own water, since the creek contained Giardia.

There were various branches in the trail, at least one of which we took, and found ourselves back on the main trail about 50 yards later. At one point, there was a simple footbridge across the creek so the trail could continue on the south side. Under the bridge we could see a small rattlesnake sticking his head out. He was just trying to stay cool in the water and the shade under the bridge, but some in our party wanted to kill him.

We continued to a point at which the trail climbed to about 10 feet above the creek. There the trail seemed to end at a large boulder. We were told by others in our party that there were toeholds cut in the boulder, and we had to traverse it to get to the trail on the other side. Since I do not like heights, this was difficult for me, but I made it. It occurred to me that someone who had gone before us must have cut those footholds with a hammer and chisel.

We finally arrived at the waterfall. What a treat! 30 feet high, and, as promised, a nice cool shallow pool at the bottom. Rest. We took pictures, stayed for a while, and then trekked back down the canyon. It was a lot hotter (100+ degrees) on the way down. When we got home, we just collapsed on our beds. We were not just tired, but suffering from the heat. A nap solved that problem.

The Willey-Martin handcart company is the greatest example of pioneer perseverance in the great saga of the westward migration. They suffered severe privation and death on the trail – caught in the dead of winter at Martin’s Cove. The first part of their trek was fairly easy (as easy as pulling handcarts hundreds of miles can be). But they left late, and winter came early in Wyoming that year, and was especially severe. I have heard people comment about the foolishness of their leaders and the lack of judgment that let them start so late. Elaine Cannon, in her book, titled Adversity [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1987], 98, offers the following narrative:

Years ago a certain class in the Church was discussing the handcart phase of the pioneer movement. There was much criticism expressed against those early Church leaders for allowing people to move west so ill-equipped so late in the season of storms.
As the class members warmed to the subject and the spirit of the meeting turned negative, an old gentleman, who had kept his silence until he could stand it no longer, stood and courageously chastised the group. He told them that they were wrong to speak so freely of things they knew nothing about. He admitted that there were mistakes in judgment and that people suffered and died in great numbers because of that. But that wasn't the entire story, according to him.
He said in essence, "I was in that handcart company. My wife was in it, too. We suffered beyond anything you can imagine in starvation and exposure and exhaustion. But tell me, did you ever hear a survivor of that company utter a word of criticism? Not one of that company ever apostatized or left the Church, because every one of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives. We became acquainted with him in our extremities."
His outburst continued: "I have pulled my handcart when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot in front of the other. I have looked ahead and seen a patch of sand or a slope and I have said, 'I can only go that far and there I must give up.' But when I reached it, the cart began pushing me. I knew that the angels of God were there. Am I sorry that I chose to come with that handcart company in that season? No! Neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay." (This story was recorded in the Relief Society lessons included in the January 1948 issue of the Relief Society Magazine, page 8.)

“Stern impassioned stress” indeed.

Our simple experience, while it bears no resemblance to the privations of the Willey-Martin Handcart company, did give our family a better appreciation of the love of our Father-in-Heaven for each of us, and a renewed desire to appreciate the beautiful earth on which we live.

We each follow the path – beaten hard by “the stern impassioned stress” of the millions who have gone before – back to our Father-in-Heaven.

The promise of Joseph Smith to the Nauvoo Relief Society on 28 April 1844 was this:

“If you live up to your privileges, the angels cannot be restrained from being your associates.”

I believe that this promise applies to men as well as women as we walk the path. If we are worthy, angels accompany us, just as they did the handcart pioneers. The Savior has cut the footholds with his atonement and is willing to come to our rescue when we struggle, just as he did for those stranded pioneers so many years ago, if we but ask.