Hot Spring Bliss

I grabbed my little notebook from my purse, the one that has my memories, and sat down to start writing. But then I looked down and instead of my notebook sitting before me, I found my wallet. Why did I grab that instead of my notebook? I guess that's for review on another day.

Two days ago I was looking at a friend's blog and decided that I love how much she uses photos. I think I'll start using a picture or two in my little stories.

Forward! Memory Lane: trip two...

When I was younger, my twin brother and I would go visit our Dad and step-mom on the weekends. In the summer we'd spend an entire month with them and they'd take us camping for a week or two.

One summer, when I was 9 or 10, they took us to a hot spring. I was nervous when we first arrived, wary of how hot the water would be. It wasn't regulated by civilization afterall, and mother-nature could be so unpredictable. How was I to know if she'd had a hot flash that day, a really hot hot-flash, that would boil my skin right off?

At the mouth of the hotspring were two sets of stairs. The one on the left led into the hotspring. The one on the right led into "the glacier pool". It was a tiny round pool that could seat about six people. It was an ice blue colour and had a picture of a polar bear and the temperature listed on the wall behind it. There was a burly old man sitting alone in this tiny tub, arms stretched out on the wall behind him, leisurely, almost relaxed. I just knew he'd freeze to death and come out stiff and purple.

Was I going to take a dip in this icy "slice of heaven"? Not a chance. But I was a little worried my Dad might make me.

But before I could worry much longer, I watched in horror and awe as my step-mother walked straight down into the pool, as though she were walking down the stairs in our own house, held her nose, submerged, came back up again, and wiped off her face as she ascended the stairs, all in one smooth movement.

Well if my step-mom could be so brave, so could I! On the hot side of things anyway.

I poked my toes down onto that first little step of the stairs into the hot water, and had all my suspicions confirmed, and yet was also pleasantly surprised.

The water was hot. Really hot. Hotter than a hottub. But it felt like nothing I'd ever felt before. It was soft. So soft it was like every part of my body that was in the water was being gently moisturized by billions of tiny unseen bubbles.

It was the most awe-inspiring experience I'd ever had in "the wild". Here was nature's own hot tub, complete with ledges to sit on, like little seats perfecftly formed to your backside, bubbles, and even a cave to wander around in.

I haven't been to a hotspring since, but now that I'm thinking about it, I'm going to find out where the nearest one is.