And I Thought I Was Cold

Last week, after enjoying some mild January weather, the thermometers in Rock Springs hit rock bottom. Twenty degrees below zero to be exact. I was putting off even getting the mail. Our mailbox is at the end of our subdivision, rather than right in front of our house. Although I can see the mailboxes from my window, I couldn't bring myself to get out there and get that mail.

After two days of putting it off I finally devised a plan. My plan was to drive my car really really close to the mailboxes on the way home from the gym. Doing so would put the driver's side window right at the mailboxes, then I could just roll down the window and get the mail without having to endure the outside temps....or so I thought....

On this fateful day I woke up early and did the P90X Plyometric work out. I got Cali up and off to school, then Carter and I headed to the Rec Center. I did a spinning class, picked Carter up from the childcare, and headed home. On the way, just as planned, I pulled my car up really really close to the mailboxes. I couldn't reach the mailbox {I didn't account for the sidewalk}. I put the car in park and stepped out into the wind, put my key in the key hole, opened the little door, and scooped out the two days worth of mail. Just then a gust of wind blew the letters out of my hands and down the road. I threw the remaining mail in the car and ran after the loose pieces blowing down the road.

Somewhere between 50 meters and 100 meters I realized that I was ill prepared for a run of this nature. My legs were nearly dead from my morning workouts and every time I bent down to pick a piece of blowing postage, it was blown farther down the dirt road. Somewhere between 100 meters and 150 meters I realized that I was wearing shorts, and could no longer feel any part of my legs. Somewhere between 150 meters and 200 meters I realized that there were sweaty places on my body that were now frozen. It was about this time I grabbed the last letter and turned around to walk back to the car. The wind was no longer at my back and I walked head on into gale force winds.

I could see the car in the distance, and it was at this point that I realized that Carter was not buckled in his seat, that the car was running, and that I'd left the driver's side door open. A triple threat that could spell disaster. However, when I finally made it back he was sitting in his seat watching High School Musical 2. I got in the car and slammed the door. I couldn't talk, and my face was almost purple. Carter said, "mom where did you chase off to?" I couldn't answer him. He looked a little scared, then said, "don't worry mom just look in my eyes it will be OK."

I was fine, he was fine, I got my {damn} mail, and it only took an hour or so inside by the fire before I was back to 100%. Looking back, this is a pretty hilarious story. What would you do if you saw someone chasing mail in shorts in sub-zero weather....probably gasp....probably laugh. However, I couldn't be help think of the pioneer women who endured these exact temperatures so many years ago.


We live in Sweetwater County Wyoming. The only mention of Sweetwater I'd ever heard of was the Sweetwater river crossed by the Mormon Pioneers. The town of Rawlins, on the above map, is 1.5 hours from where we live. The Sweetwater river runs through the entire county, and we are relatively close to Martin's Cove.


The Martin Handcart Company started their journey late in the season. Which meant they were travelling through Wyoming in the coldest weather possible. I really thought I knew what cold was, but I know now that there are no words to describe the harsh conditions they were forced to endure. I was only a little sweaty, I wasn't neck deep in a river. My son was in a warm car, not on my back. And my daughter was at school, not being buried in a field. It was an intense realization.



This is one of the most famous depictions of the pioneers at Martin's Cove. I've seen this picture a hundred times at least, but have a much better understanding now of just how cold and horrific their journey must have been. I always felt close to my pioneer ancestry living in the Salt Lake Valley. There are so many pioneer related sights and even pioneer day. However, I've never felt the gratitude and closeness I do being out here where they gave their lives. When the wind blows across the valley they nearly speak from the dust.

I am going to remember these little lessons learned. When it's time to go outside I am going to happily put on my winter coat and boots, and smile with gratitude as I get in my car, and possibly shed a few tears when I fill my entire shopping cart with food.