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It was a sunny wintery morning in Provo Utah. There was no new snow, so snowboarding wasn’t really an option. It was still a little chilly for a nice bike ride or a jog. Danny and I decided we were ready for a charming winter hike and therefore headed up to the Spanish Fork hot springs. We had been trying to go for quite some time, but were just waiting for a little snow melt to permit us in.
And away we went. No need for food or water, the hike is only 45 minutes up and less than that coming down, naturally. Plus, we are tough, obviously. At about noon, we threw on our swim suits, brought a long a couple of towels and drove the 30 minutes up the canyon. To our dismay, the road was closed about half way up.
We could have gone back into the car and drove back to Provo. We could have spent the day relaxing, watching movies, things of that nature.
But that’s just not really our style.
We looked at each other, and without a word began our quest to the hot springs. Surely it couldn’t be too far to the trail head. The air was relatively warm, the sun was shining, and the snow was that perfect consistency for making snow balls. Actually, you know, I am just going to go ahead and call them ice balls. We thoroughly enjoyed our hike up to the trail head. So much in fact that we didn’t really pay attention to time or how far we hiked, etc. nor did we bother to even bring a watch because that wouldn’t be important on a hike. Right. We made it safely to the trail head. The snow was deep, but pretty packed all along the trail. I guess that gives me no excuse for the 5 or 6 times I fell on the way up. Good thing I was behind Danny so my lack of athleticism could remain a secret and I would continue tricking him into thinking I was cool. In my defense I had serious shin splints. So quit judging me.
The air suddenly changed. Ah, the sweet succulent smell of sulfur! We must be close. It was enough to make a regular person gag. Good thing we are basically ninjas. Well, Danny is. I would best be compared to Dwight Schrute from The Office. A wilderness man if you will. Or woman. If you won’t. Amish.
The trail overlooks the hot springs, or hot pots, as the Utah natives tend to call them. There were 2 girls and a boy sitting in one of the hot springs. As we got closer we realized something. Something was missing. What was it? Hmm better take a closer look. Oh that’s right. They’re clothes. That’s what was missing. Awkward.
Onward to the next set of hot springs so as to make our hot potting the least amount of awkward as possible, and to try to unwind after being traumatized by the nakedness we had just beheld. We had a great time at the springs, they were dreamy, truly. They were a beautiful shade of blue and it started snowing as we sat in them. It was getting a little dark, and seeing as how we did not have flash lights, we decided it was about time to roll out.
The thing about hot springs, hot tubs, things of this nature, is they do such a great job of relaxing your muscles. More encouraging for sleeping, and not hiking. If I thought I had a hard time staying vertical to the ground on the way up, boy was I in for a treat on the way down. I really can’t tell you how many times I fell. I don’t think I could count it on two hands. Amazing. It is as though I have a talent for tripping. But my favorite time was when I started tripping, went to catch myself and somehow really messed up my footwork and fell flat on my face going downhill. I really don’t even know how that happened. I was in front of Danny all this time, so there was no more hiding my clumsiness. So, what’s a girl to do? Well if she is anything like Dwight Schrute she would begin running at this point. As fast as she can. On the snow. Downhill. With shin splints. Keeping in mind that there is no water or food and she is not really sure how many minutes, hours or miles away from the car she is. Yeah that sounds like a pretty good idea. I actually felt pretty good getting down the trail, and if that had been the end of the hike I would have been in pretty good shape. I didn’t fall one time while I was running, so maybe I just suck at walking. Anyway, we started walking up the road to find our car. It seriously took like 4 hours. The temperature dropped significantly without the sun. Every time the road would curve we were just sure that the car would be around the corner. Not so. We were stinky sulfur-y, hungry, tired, thirsty, and cold. We kept mushing onward, one leg after the other. The last 500 yards of the hike, I caught my second wind and began running as fast as I could, leaving poor Danny boy to hike on his own, but I just knew the car was around the corner and I didn’t care how far or uphill I had to run, I just had to! I don’t think clearly. Finally we made it back to the jeep, or Black Magic as I like to call him. There is nothing as magical as sitting in that bad boy with the heat on full blast after a long cold hike. I feel a special bond with that vehicle now.
We drove home, tired, but with a new sense of accomplishment.
Then, we went out for soup.
And away we went. No need for food or water, the hike is only 45 minutes up and less than that coming down, naturally. Plus, we are tough, obviously. At about noon, we threw on our swim suits, brought a long a couple of towels and drove the 30 minutes up the canyon. To our dismay, the road was closed about half way up.
We could have gone back into the car and drove back to Provo. We could have spent the day relaxing, watching movies, things of that nature.
But that’s just not really our style.
We looked at each other, and without a word began our quest to the hot springs. Surely it couldn’t be too far to the trail head. The air was relatively warm, the sun was shining, and the snow was that perfect consistency for making snow balls. Actually, you know, I am just going to go ahead and call them ice balls. We thoroughly enjoyed our hike up to the trail head. So much in fact that we didn’t really pay attention to time or how far we hiked, etc. nor did we bother to even bring a watch because that wouldn’t be important on a hike. Right. We made it safely to the trail head. The snow was deep, but pretty packed all along the trail. I guess that gives me no excuse for the 5 or 6 times I fell on the way up. Good thing I was behind Danny so my lack of athleticism could remain a secret and I would continue tricking him into thinking I was cool. In my defense I had serious shin splints. So quit judging me.
The air suddenly changed. Ah, the sweet succulent smell of sulfur! We must be close. It was enough to make a regular person gag. Good thing we are basically ninjas. Well, Danny is. I would best be compared to Dwight Schrute from The Office. A wilderness man if you will. Or woman. If you won’t. Amish.
The trail overlooks the hot springs, or hot pots, as the Utah natives tend to call them. There were 2 girls and a boy sitting in one of the hot springs. As we got closer we realized something. Something was missing. What was it? Hmm better take a closer look. Oh that’s right. They’re clothes. That’s what was missing. Awkward.
Onward to the next set of hot springs so as to make our hot potting the least amount of awkward as possible, and to try to unwind after being traumatized by the nakedness we had just beheld. We had a great time at the springs, they were dreamy, truly. They were a beautiful shade of blue and it started snowing as we sat in them. It was getting a little dark, and seeing as how we did not have flash lights, we decided it was about time to roll out.
The thing about hot springs, hot tubs, things of this nature, is they do such a great job of relaxing your muscles. More encouraging for sleeping, and not hiking. If I thought I had a hard time staying vertical to the ground on the way up, boy was I in for a treat on the way down. I really can’t tell you how many times I fell. I don’t think I could count it on two hands. Amazing. It is as though I have a talent for tripping. But my favorite time was when I started tripping, went to catch myself and somehow really messed up my footwork and fell flat on my face going downhill. I really don’t even know how that happened. I was in front of Danny all this time, so there was no more hiding my clumsiness. So, what’s a girl to do? Well if she is anything like Dwight Schrute she would begin running at this point. As fast as she can. On the snow. Downhill. With shin splints. Keeping in mind that there is no water or food and she is not really sure how many minutes, hours or miles away from the car she is. Yeah that sounds like a pretty good idea. I actually felt pretty good getting down the trail, and if that had been the end of the hike I would have been in pretty good shape. I didn’t fall one time while I was running, so maybe I just suck at walking. Anyway, we started walking up the road to find our car. It seriously took like 4 hours. The temperature dropped significantly without the sun. Every time the road would curve we were just sure that the car would be around the corner. Not so. We were stinky sulfur-y, hungry, tired, thirsty, and cold. We kept mushing onward, one leg after the other. The last 500 yards of the hike, I caught my second wind and began running as fast as I could, leaving poor Danny boy to hike on his own, but I just knew the car was around the corner and I didn’t care how far or uphill I had to run, I just had to! I don’t think clearly. Finally we made it back to the jeep, or Black Magic as I like to call him. There is nothing as magical as sitting in that bad boy with the heat on full blast after a long cold hike. I feel a special bond with that vehicle now.
We drove home, tired, but with a new sense of accomplishment.
Then, we went out for soup.
