President Woodruff's Survival in a Snowstorm

“I started from home on Saturday morning, intending to go to Woodruff, a settlement about thirty-five miles distant. When I arrived there, the Bishop wanted me to stay over Sunday and preach to the people, but I told him I had tarried too long already, and must go on. I drove on sprightly, and when within fifteen miles of Wasatch, a furious snow storm overtook me, the wind blowing heavily in my face. In fifteen minutes I could not see any road whatever, and knew not how or where to guide my horses. I left my lines loosely on my animals, went inside my wagon, tied down the cover, and committed my life and guidance into the hands of the Lord, trusting to my horses to find the way, as they had twice before passed over that road. I felt perfectly calm, and had no fear of perishing. My horses traveled on until about nine o'clock in the evening, when they stopped. I opened the cover of my wagon and found I was at the Wasatch station. I had been traveling in the storm for several hours, and the horses had brought me safely to the station, although the road was entirely covered with snow. I remained at Wasatch until Monday night, during which time the snow fell to the depth of six feet. I finally succeeded in getting my horses into a box car and shipped them to Ogden.”

— Wilford Woodruff, Leaves from My Journal