Consider taking the interstate highway system to traverse the United States — a little trip of approximately four full days at 8 to 10 hours of driving per day — substantially faster than those who invested six or seven months to make the same journey in covered wagons. 

However, which people were most transformed by their journey? Which ones had the most intimate and detailed understanding of the landscape and communities they encountered? Which ones forged the strongest relationships? Which ones had developed new skills and solved the most problems along the path — those who traveled by Conestoga Wagon or in an air-conditioned minivan?

Smooth roads make for ease but the difficult process of forging a path is transformative. Life’s experience emerges as the result of a multitude of choices — some seemingly mundane and others substantial but each directing habits, attitudes and vision. Peter Marshall, the son of impoverished Scot Miners who would become an influential faith leader encouraged embracing challenge and hardship, said, “When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure.” 

In our time when gadgets, devices and virtual experiences elevate comfort and entice humanity with convenience and instant rewards, we need to remember making wine requires grapes to be crushed, steel can only be formed from searing heat, and a fine piece of furniture only emerges from wood that has been sanded, shaped and cut. Thus, it is with bringing forth the best of human potential.

Those who accepted the risk and hardship of traveling across North America in a wagon had to have known that even when they reached their destination, hard work, sacrifice and tenacity would be required to sink roots and to build both vocation and avocation. In building a new life two critical focal points would be required: craftsmanship and community building.

Excellence, rather than an outcome, is a journey of striving, struggle and strain. Mastery results from the application of effort, discipline, curiosity and skill. The pinnacle model of excellence is craftsmanship where the nexus of head, hands and heart create a powerful outlet for gifts and talents to spring forth.  

Not long ago I found myself at Sturbridge Village, an immersive agrarian museum in New England, watching two blacksmiths ply their craft. An hour passed in the blink of an eye as the bellows stoked the fire, iron was heated and shaped on the anvil, and useful tools emerged from the skilled labor of the craftsmen. The combination of patience, creativity and functionality was evident, and it reminded me the craftsman is not an overnight sensation but rather the result of diligence, prolonged effort and continuous learning from others who have attained mastery.

While craftsmanship is often characterized by long and arduous hours spent in solitude, the progression of a craft is a community affair where knowledge and technique are shared. 

In the craftsman’s guild, members have both the opportunity to gain but also the responsibility to contribute. In the context of the larger community, no single craft or vocational pursuit is sufficient; an entire ecosystem of skills is required for the group to thrive.

What would have been the quality of the conversations, the shared experiences cementing relationships, and the level of learning and skill development in the long journeys undertaken by our forefathers in search of a better life? It could be argued many contemporary travelers along the interstate may rarely, if ever, appreciate and develop knowledge of their surroundings, engage and build community with fellow travelers, or much less be transformed by the experience.

Perhaps it is time to return to the principles of the Conestoga journey and to embrace the difficult but meaningful work of building both craft and community.  

Editor’s note: Tom Field is a rancher from Parlin, Colo., and the director of the Engler Agribusiness Entrepreneurship Program at the University of Nebraska–Lincoln.