Do you want to build a snowman?

Here is a picture of Pine Valley in my beloved Uintah Mountains in the middle of June, due to some freakishly cold, winter-ish storm that blew through for the three days that our Stake Girls Camp was scheduled to stay. If you didn't know better, you would think I took a trip to Canada, eh? And this picture was taken at an elevation of 7000 feet. I can only imagine what it looked like up at the top of the canyon at 10,000 feet. I found out later that most of the areas above us received 4-6 inches of new snow.

Let me just start by saying that we knew well before camp that we were in for some cold and wet weather. I mean, we do live in Utah after all, where the weather forecast is really just a lucky guess. We notified and warned every leader we could get a hold of, hoping that the girls would look past the 90 degrees they were feeling in the valley and try to picture themselves in the Uintah wilderness where weather forecasting is impossible, temperatures are just a shot in the dark and Mother Nature bats you around like a child's play thing. But alas, our warnings were ignored by some and not everyone was as prepared as we had hoped they would be. Some wards were ON it though! We had one ward in particular that had all their girls bring over their stuff to the leader's house the night before camp. She would quiz the parents and the girl on what they had packed and if they didn't have it, she sent them home for it and if they didn't own it, they better go beg, steal or borrow it or they weren't goin' to camp! Yay for great leaders!! They were by far the warmest and driest in our campground.

Our camp started off pretty normal; the stake and youth camp leaders got to camp around 5 on Monday, did some planning, roasted hot dogs and shivered around the fire for a while until we all decided to go to bed. The rain in the forecast had yet to start so we thought that just maybe the predicted cold front would miraculously move around our tiny camp.

The next morning it started off pretty cold, but nothing terribly unusual. The other campers arrived and had to set up in a drizzle of rain. It stayed pretty dry on and off for half the day and then it started to rain in earnest. Then it started to hail. Then it started to snow. Rain and cold we could do, but snow was definitely not on the agenda. Tents started to cave in and as we made our rounds to the different ward camps we realized that the girls were not prepared for this. The likelihood that temperatures would dip below freezing during the night, combined with the fact that most of them were already soaking wet (because they didn't listen to their mothers), made us seriously concerned for their safety. So we made the difficult decision to jump ship and head down the mountain to find somewhere warm and safe for the night.

Luckily (or maybe not luck?) we had some connections to a Bishop in Kamas who put us in touch with a ward who agreed to house us for the night in their ward building. When we got there, we set up our own gigantic slumber party in the gym and...surprise!...another stake girls camp was there already, snowed out of their campground as well. We felt extremely grateful that we had a warm and safe place for our 109 girls and I can't even describe how relieved I was that everybody was going to be ok and that these girls would be going home with all of their fingers and toes, plus an awesome story to tell. (I should take this time to mention that there were quite a few hysterical mothers who were very relieved as well). As we pulled into the parking lot of this stake center, I was overwhelmed with this feeling of relief and peace and I knew that we were in the right place. The Bishop cranked up the heat and the Relief Society president showed up to make all 200 of us hot chocolate while we thawed out.

Later on the next day, the sun started to peek out and most of the snow on the ground was melting, but the temperatures were still cold enough and all of our gear was wet enough that we were worried for the girl's safety for the coming night as well. We found that many tents that we had left up the night before were caved in from the weight of the snow and some had an inch of water sitting at the bottom. I imagined what it would have been like to be up there the previous night and I once again felt so relieved that we were spared that experience. So we decided to pack it in and send the girls home. Someone left this little surprise for us when we went back up to break down camp.



A snowman in June. It reminded me that no matter what obstacles you're up against, it's still ok to let yourself have some fun.

I learned quite a few other lessons from this experience. The first one I seem to learn over and over and over again and that is: never underestimate the Uintah Mountain weather. Those mountains create their own weather and I will say, at the risk of sounding very hippy-ish, I am certain they have their own souls. The hills are alive. How they must laugh at our feeble attempts to brave the elements!

"You think your $800 dollar tent will keep you dry? HA! I will show you what I think of you and your silly little tent!"

And down comes the snow that is so heavy, you can practically drink it. And then down comes the tent.

I also learned the value of listening. Really listening. To yourself, to your leaders, to the spirit. (To your mother). I learned to trust what I have to say and what I have heard whispered to my heart.

I learned that you should Always. Be. Prepared. Those boy scouts have a good thing goin' on with that whole motto. While I was surprisingly comfortable, many were completely miserable. How much easier is life if we just take a few minutes to prepare?

I learned how hard it is to be a leader. Well, I guess I already knew that one, but it was reinforced to me that it is difficult to be one of the people who makes hard calls and who receives the criticism that comes from it. It's usually not a comfortable place for me to be.

Last of all I learned that I have it in me to rise to a challenge. There are so many reasons why I always tell myself that I am not up for challenges; I am too weak, too sick, too afraid. But the reality is that I CAN do difficult things, make difficult decisions and let those decisions take their course. What's even more surprising is that I am OK with it. Even with all of the negative comments toward us about how we didn't prepare and warn everyone, how we should not have gone through with it and so on...I can just let it go. It seriously doesn't bother me! How awesome is that!?! I know we did the best that we could and while hind sight is 20/20, all we can do in the moment is make a decision and go for it, come rain or shine (or snow).