ARIZONA CITY — The 135 or so teens pulled their handcarts some seven miles into the desert. They set up camp in rugged, remote terrain, well south of town — somewhere beyond the Tator Hills.
The wood carts bounced along on spoked iron wheels nearly as tall as the teens. The carts carried their tents, their cooking supplies, their extra clothes. They carried just about everything the trekkers would need for their four days in the desert. They slogged along a rain-soaked dirt road, passable only by four-wheel drive — or teen-powered handcarts. They traveled with their temporary families — each with "brothers" and "sisters" and a "ma" and "pa." For them, it would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. For the Casa Grande Mormon Stake, it was a quadrennial event meant to give young churchgoers a taste of what early Mormon pioneers went through as they settled the West.
As luck would have it, planners chose the coldest week of 2010 for the trek. It rained a lot, too. There's nothing like bad weather to heighten the pioneer experience.
Trek coordinator Tim Chapman put it all in perspective.
"Even our worst day here doesn't compare with what our ancestors went through," Chapman said.
What the pioneers went through was a trek that took members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from Illinois — and earlier, Missouri — to the Salt Lake Basin in the territory that became Utah. The migration began in 1847 and continued through the 1850s.
The Casa Grande stake's first trek took place in 2002, the second in 2006. There's a reason for the four-year schedule, Chapman says. It gives teens from ages 14 to 18 at least one chance to take part. The treks are staged during Christmas break. The recent trek began Dec. 29.
One line in the trek publicity handout made it sound like a long weekend at a swank hotel — four days and three nights.
But a visitor on Day 2 found that was not the case. Family-size tents were set up over a large area of desert. Nature provided the landscaping — saguaros, foothills palo verde and cholla cactus. The ground was still wet from the previous night's storm, when a stiff wind had blown over several tents as campers slept inside.
Even as the sun came out, the air remained cold and crisp. Many trekkers sat around campfires trying to keep warm, including Tyler Carpenter, 15, a student at Florence High School.
"It's cold and wet," he said. Nobody disagreed. And nobody questioned his next observation. "At least I know how people back then felt."
As it happens, that experience topped the list of goals set out by the stake. That is, "a greater appreciation of pioneer heritage through perseverance."
It was that perseverance and sacrifice, another trekker said, that made it possible for Mormons today to practice their faith.
Another goal, Chapman said, was to strengthen that faith.
"We're trying to build their faith ... their faith in Jesus Christ, the Gospel."
Aside from the weather, perhaps the biggest test of faith was the food. A plate of uneaten yellow mush lay on the ground, a few yards from Carpenter's campfire. It was a breakfast of cornmeal. Campers had to eat like the old pioneers. Ham and eggs were out.
"It's good, if you're hungry," Carpenter said.
Angelica Lara, a 15-year-old Casa Grande Union High School student, was kneeling next to a campfire down the road. She was stirring up a pot of cornmeal for lunch.
"Anyone else?" she called out. "You know you want it!"
People lined up, tin pans in hand.
At least, they didn't have to kill live chickens to eat — as did the 2006 trekkers. They had chicken dinners, however, on New Year's Eve. This time the chickens came pre-killed from the supermarket, though trekkers did have to prep and cook them over campfires in dutch ovens.
To keep it real, beyond the cornmeal, trekkers weren't allowed any electronic devices. No iPods, iPhones or iAnything, for that matter. They had to follow a dress code. No 501 Levi's, or any denim jeans. Denim hadn't yet been invented — or at least wasn't widely available in the 1850s. Girls all wore long, pioneer-style dresses or skirts. Many also wore bonnets, but many girls didn't — perhaps because of the strong winds.
And the pioneers of old probably would have traded a month's supply of cornmeal for the heavy jackets a lot of teen trekkers had on this bitterly cold day.
Sixteen-year-old James Jackson of Pinetop-Lakeside, however, took the cold in stride, for the most part.
"This is what it's like for us every day," he said, then added: "Only it's raining."
After lunch, the trekkers formed into groups and attended what might be called pioneer school. Each group took turns learning skills essential to survival on the trail. These included how to start a fire from scratch, make taffy, make candles and shoot arrows.
About mid-afternoon, the visitor headed back to the world of automobiles and central heating. The young pioneers would remain until New Year's Day. As Dec. 30 drew to a close, the night promised to be one of the coldest of the season, with temperatures dipping into the 20s. Chapman said organizers made sure campers spent the night dry and — for the most part — warm.
By the fourth day, he added, "Their spirits were high. They were happy."
In the second day at camp, Chip Frizzell reflected on the experience. He stood near a campfire seeing to the needs of his "family." Frizzell, 50, was the "pa." His wife, Sheri, was the "ma." All the "ma's" and "pa's" on the trek were real husbands and wives.
The trek would show that faith and prayer are key to overcoming adversity, Frizzell said. And it would help strengthen the "family" bond.
"I think there were some lessons learned," he said, adding: "We'll see, after it gets cold tonight, how much fun we're having."