The Lyman Zoo: November 2015

On July 15th Jed and I got to go on a ATV excursion. It was quite the eventful day. Following is Jed's summary of that experience. At the end of his writing, are pictures of the day. We learned some valuable lessons that day.

Thirteen Crossings

On July 15 Dale and Bev led the Bluff Fort missionaries on an ATV excursion. As the day unfolded, Candice and I began noticing comparisons between the events of the day, and the experience of the Hole in the Rock pioneers.

We met on Blue Mountain near Dry Wash Reservoir and began unloading our machines. I happened to be wearing a BYU sweatshirt and hat. One of the missionaries, who will remain nameless in an attempt to minimize his embarrassment, asked if I really had to wear what I was wearing. It was immediately obvious that this particular missionary had gone over to the dark side and was a fan of the University of Utah. As mentioned, this well-meaning, but misled brother, will remain anonymous, but his initials are Jim Miller. Jim and I gave each other as much grief as possible over the other's loyalties.

As I reflected upon this experience, it occurred to me that the HITR pioneers were of a mixed background. They had come from a variety of countries, had experienced different cultures and spoke different languages. Like Jim and I, they had competing loyalties, but learned to work together cooperatively for the benefit of each another and the group as a whole.

Early in the ride, one of the the side-by-sides experienced mechanical problems. It soon became obvious that it could not keep up with the other machines. Some of the missionaries were in trucks and they gave the couple driving the disabled machine a ride. Later in the day, another couple on a four-wheeler, traded places and let them ride their four-wheeler.

This experience reminds us of the cooperation it must have taken for those pioneers to succeed. It is unlikely that things could have succeeded without total cooperation and support among the pioneers.

During our ride on one of the trails, we came across three large trees that had fallen across the trail. My first thought was that it was time to turn around and look for another trail. Apparently, Dale and others, are not so easily dissuaded.. The area was overgrown and not easily traversed except on the trail. There was no obvious way around the trees, but Dale was convinced it was doable. It took some work to construct a makeshift detour, but with a little effort it was accomplished. The task would have been easily accomplished with a chainsaw, or an axe, but none were to be had.

As we were trying to decide where the new route could be built, several people were heard to say, "We can do hard things," and "If we have enough sticky-ta-tudy, we cannot fail."

This effort had obvious comparison to the Bluff pioneers. They often came to places where there were no obvious routes or where their progress seemed to be stymied. They did not give up. Neither did Dale. He proved to be a capable leader who wouldn't accept NO for an answer.

The day became blustery with storms brewing. We could see the rain all around us and often came upon areas that had recently experienced significant rain. As the day progressed, these storms became more and more pronounced and widespread. However, never did it do more than sprinkle on us. At one point we came down a steep trail from Gooseberry to Cottonwood. The trail was very muddy and slippery. Often times we were at the mercy of gravity and mud We had little control over exactly where we went. It could have been much worse had it rained directly on us. It seemed as if the Lord was aware of our situation and was watching over us. It may seem to be a stretch to say our situation paralleled that of the pioneers, but I felt that we, like them, were protected.

As we began the last leg of the trip down Cottonwood I began to wonder what we would encounter in the numerous crossings of Cottonwood Wash. The first few crossings were easily accomplished even though the wash was running a fair amount of water. However, as we approached the next crossing it was immediately obvious that the situation had changed. Somewhere between this crossing and the last, another canyon had emptied into the wash and the water volume had increased by several times. This crossing was not to made as effortlessly as previous crossings. Also, at this crossing we came across two county road employees whose job it was to do what they could to make the crossings crossable. They had a pickup truck and backhoe.

When Cottonwood floods, it brings with it a great deal of silt which builds up at each approach on either side of the wash. One of the missionaries walked through the silt at this crossing and sunk up to his knees, or thereabouts. It was apparent that we would not be crossing any time soon.

After a wait of a two or three hours, the water level dropped and enabled the county backhoe operator to clear the built-up silt from the approaches. As he did so, we were able to see the depth of the water and knew when it was safe to cross. We followed the same procedure at each of the next several crossings. We would wait until the backhoe had cleared the way, and then we would cross. without their help we could not have continued. This reminded me of the assistance received by the pioneers from the community of Escalante, without whose help, the mission would almost certainly have failed.

As we continued on our way, one of the sisters who had driven a four-wheeler all day seemed to be at the point where she had had about as much fun as she could stand. I offered to drive her four-wheeler and let her ride in our RZR with Candice driving. At first she declined, but later accepted my offer. At that point Candice began driving our RZR, which included several crossings of the flooded wash. She seemed a little intimidated by the task, but did not complain. She just did what she was asked to do.

This reminded me of the story of my Great-Grandmother, Sara Williams, who though not even a member of the Church, offered to come to San Juan with her sister, Mary Ann Williams Perkins, and her husband, Benjamin, to help with their small children. As they began the trek, she was informed that she would be driving a wagon of her own. Never having driven a wagon before, she accepted the assignment and, I assume, became an accomplished wagoneer.

We eventually came to the last crossing. It was a raging river. I had never before seen sand waves like we saw at that crossing. It was rather intimidating. In an effort to make a long story short, I will just say, after waiting several hours, the backhoe was finally able to make crossing possible for the pickup trucks, but not our ATVs. Earlier, Candice and I had called our son and asked that he come to give us a ride thinking we would leave our RZR when we reached the highway, rather than drive on the highway. When it became apparent that we could not cross the wash to get to the highway, I headed back up the road to find cell service to cancel his mission of mercy.

Before I could reach him, however, he, his wife and little boy arrived on the opposite side of the raging flood, or, as our little grandson, Mason, refers to it, "the muddy river." When Mason saw his grandmother, he excitedly began waving to her on the far side of the wash. After I returned to our side of the wash, he waved to me as well. Unbeknownst to us, when they first arrived and he could see his grandmother, but not me, he asked his parents, "Where is grandpa?" He kept asking until I finally arrived, at which point, he waved even more excitedly. He was relieved that I was no longer missing.

As our son and daughter-in-law told us of Mason"s concern for his missing grandfather and kept asking, "Where is grandpa,?" it reminded me of the great reunion on the other side of the veil. I don't want my grandchildren asking, "Where is grandpa?" It gives me the incentive to live in such a way that there are no empty chairs at our eternal family table.

Eventually, the water receded sufficiently to allow the backhoe to clear the approaches and allow pickup trucks to cross. A friendly forest service employee ferried us all across and we were given rides into town by our son, forest service personnel, a county deputy and the county road employees. Otherwise, it could have meant a long, cold, hungry night.

In conclusion, as the day progressed, there were many examples of blessings from the Lord. While our situation was not comparable to the Hole in the Rock pioneers, the parallels were many. We were watched over by a loving Father in Heaven. He kept is dry, safe and provided us with the people and resources necessary to safely conclude our day. The experience gave me a greater appreciation for the blessings poured out upon those amazing pioneers. I am so grateful for the protection afforded them by the Lord. I am grateful for their "sticky-ta-tudyness" and faith in the Lord. And it is good to learn that we, like them, "can do hard things."