John Lingren crossed the plains in 1863. The following is an excerpt from his journal, which he recorded some years after arriving in the Salt Lake Valley:
"Here on this journey our trials and patience commenced and . . . hardships were mostly borne with joy that in [the valley] we would gain our reward. We struck out now for good, traveled some 25 miles a day; once in a while we had to ford a stream - the men would wade across while the women would wait for their wagons and ride across. . . . Choke cherries and currants were plentiful. Rations were served out consisting of flour and bacon and some soda to make the bread light. . . ."Antelopes were plentiful and many were killed. Buffalo chips often were used as fuel and made our fires along the Platte. They burn like turf when dry. We often, on our journey, found human skulls and bones, the bones of animals were scattered along the road on both sides. Signs of the vast immigration that had traveled the road before us were seen right and left. Prairie fires had blackened the country for miles so that food for cattle was scant, otherwise grass was belly deep over the whole country. . . .
"Our motto was forward, onward and we did advance briskly."
Lingren arrived in Moroni
Sanpete County, UtahT Sept. 11, 1863. He traveled by foot to Fort Ephraim, March 12, 1864. There he awaited the arrival of his brother, who crossed the plains a year after he did. But his brother died en route and was buried at Devil's Gate in Wyoming on Sept. 13, 1864. "He died a faithful member of the Latter-day Saint Church and was obeying the commandments to gather to Zion," Lingren wrote in his journal. "His wish was to see the City of Salt Lake - that he might be buried there when he died. He also prayed that he might live long enough to have a talk with me. . . . He died at the age of 17 years, 7 months, 10 days. He was tall and slim in stature, of light complexion. He was baptized when he was 14 years old.
". . . I started early one morning in the forepart of October to North-bend, a small settlement in the upper part of San Pete valley, to meet my brother, and the sad news that he was dead was almost more than I could bear. It was the first real sorrow that I had had. My steps back to Fort Ephraim were heavy and slow; the tears I shed, I thought were millions." (Source: "Treasures of Pioneer History," Vol. 1, by Kate B. Carter.)