For FHE Judy and I are writing testimonies to put in Spencer Sanders’ Baptism Book.   I thought I would tell him of an experience that greatly helped my testimony as a young man.

In July of 1956, when I was 15 years old, my Explorer Scout Troop went on a hike to Twin Lakes in Idaho. It was a major hike, first into Boulder Lake, about 3 miles, where we spent the first night and then about 5 miles over a mountain and back down the other side to Twin Lakes. My Father, O.T. Sanders, had been involved in scouting for many years, and when our usual leader could not go he volunteered. There were, as I remember, 8 young men plus Dad and he hauled us up from the valley to the trailhead in the back of his pickup.

I was so excited to go on this rigorous, wilderness hike. We were going into seldom-traveled areas, crossing a very high mountain to fish in lakes seldom seen or fished. What an adventure I expected,…but little did I know!

We all had packs with sleeping bags, food, fishing gear and other essentials. The weather was warm and the sky clear as we started out. The first night at Boulder Lake was very interesting. We got in after dark. When we went down to the lake we discovered that the sides of the lake were covered with millions of tiny, newborn frogs. With so much to eat, the fish had no interest in what we had to offer.

The next morning we got ready to go earlier than originally planned since fishing was so poor. One of our group was a little guy that had difficulty keeping up, so Dad told us to go ahead. They would come at their pace. We had a great time, following an old trail that took us to the top of Boulder Mountain where there was an abandoned forest service lookout tower. It sat on top of the mountain with 1,000-foot cliffs on two of three faces, each diving down to beautiful glacial moraine lakes. Over the third or North West side was our ultimate objective, Twin Lakes. The winding, switch back trail we were following lead, in a steep climb, to the lookout tower and the trail down to Twin Lakes.

To our dismay, as we got up to about 8,000 feet on the approximately 9,000 foot peak, a surprise summer snow storm (in July?) started to move in. Then it hit with a fury. The temperature dropped below freezing and it started to snow so hard we could barely see our own outstretched hands. We were well trained for such a situation. I was Senior Patrol Leader and immediately roped us together so no one would get lost from the group. We then continued with great difficulty to climb up the trail. However, the snow soon hid all traces of the trail.

There were only three choices to make at that point. One, we could just huddle together and try to wait it out but we had no idea how long it would take and we already had guys so cold they had the shakes. Two, we could go back down hill and attempt to get below the snow, but there was very bad footing on the trail back, if we could find it. We also realized that even if we got below the snow line we would probably still be endangered by very cold rain. Third, we could try forging on up the hill to the shelter of the lookout tower, but we could not be sure of the trail and if we veered to the left or right by just so little, we may miss the lookout and even fall over one of the cliffs. Remember, we had about zero visibility and in just the first 10 minutes there was over 4 inches of snow on the ground plus the wind started to blow so hard the snow stung our faces.

There were differences of opinion about which choice we should make. Some were determined to go back, others to press forward. We all agreed that we must not stay or we could all perish.

So, we all knelt down in that snow and prayed. We took turns and when we were finished, we all knew we should forge ahead to find the tower. We then chose to forget trying to find the old switch back trail and, instead, feel our way straight up the hill. I tied myself to the end of the rope and had an older, strong young man we had with us, and exchange student from Norway with great outdoors skills take the front. With renewed faith, courage and strength we climbed that hill nearly blind, helping each other up the mountain from one almost good footing to the next. We were above the tree line so we moved through and over rocks and small boulders.

Just when some were about to fall with exhaustion and cold, the terrain began to flatten like the top of a mountain. Then our lead of the roped chain bumped into a large wooden beam rising skyward. It was the lookout tower. I was still taking up the rear to help some of the weaker make their way and heard a great cheer. We felt such joy and knew our faith was rewarded; our prayers had been literally answered.

We found the stairs up, patched holes in the windows of the old room at the top with some old newspapers, found and collected some dry firewood directly under the tower, and started a fire in the iron stove. We then heated some stew, the best I had ever tasted, but before eating, seven young men knelt to thank their Father in Heaven. It was an experience that touched the hearts and strengthened the testimonies of each and all of us.

The next morning I went out very early and, finding the sky clear, looked out over the amazing, plunging cliffs on two sides of us. At the bottom were lakes that, at that height, appeared to be only puddles of sparkling water. The sun was already starting to melt the foot or so of snow (thankfully, much had been blown off the mountain). After a great breakfast, seven very happy guys hiked on down to Twin Lakes passing through the pristine wilderness that I thought would be the main adventure. My Dad and our little guy joined us via a lower trail that afternoon and found us happily catching fish and planning to build a raft. Dad said he knew we would be OK because we were taught and knew what to do in the wilderness. We all knew that prayer was the most important part of our training. Through our prayers our Heavenly Father told us, unitedly, what to do. And I thank Him still.