Just Like the Snow Monkeys in Japan...
 
The Eastern Sierras are rife with volcanic activity. Mammoth Mountain, my favorite ski mountain in California, is a semi-dormant volcano that has a billowing sulfur vent just below Dave’s Run. Near the Mammoth Lakes airport there is a trout hatchery that is fed warm water from a near by hot spring that erupts in the middle of a very cold creek. All over the area the are small and medium hot alkali springs that flow out from between boulders, bubble up in the middle of pastures, and form natural pools and warm bogs all over the region. The locals have taken the initiative to capture some of the warmest waters and alter their natural flow into very subtle and amazing picturesque concrete and stone tubs.

I have known about a couple of these for at least two years, but just never made it to the area to look and enjoy. With our very busy schedules it isn’t often that Laurel and I get a full weekend free and it almost never happens that it is the same weekend. The stars lined up for us and we had a free weekend coming up so I thought that it would be a good time to check out the tubs. Laurel emphatically agreed and I went to work planning the logistics. There were a few hiccups that tried to alter our plans: a proposed trip to Germany, a friend’s engagement dinner, a lack of funds, etc… In the end it all came together for the last two days of a three-day weekend. We left our house around 10:00 on a Saturday night after the engagement thing and I drove up into the mountains while Laurel slept with her head resting on me.
 
It started snowing on us at around 4,000’ and continued to do so for the rest of the five and a half hour drive. I pulled into the campground near Bishop and we hopped into the back of my truck, Wink, and went to sleep nestled into down bags, while lying on a down mattress pad that covered three inches of foam. We were warm and comfy all night. The sun woke us the next morning around 9:00 and we drove into Bishop for breakfast and a German deli/bakery and then went to a couple of art and photo galleries in town. My favorite was the Mountain Light Gallery. The Gallery is the legacy of both Galen and Barbara Rowell. Both were incredible photographers and writers. Galen was also one of North America’s premier climbers and mountaineers. He made the first winter ascent of Half Dome in Yosemite and put up a classic climbing route on the face of Mt. Whitney. They were killed in 1995 when their plane crashed as it was landing at the Mammoth Lakes airport. The Gallery, housed in an old bank building – vault still intact, is a combination of an operating Gallery and a museum and shrine to the Rowell’s memory. It was incredible to see some of the work, but also somewhat sad viewing little pieces of the past and the shared memory of a couple that had passed from this earth captured in image after image.

Laurel as she woke up in our campsite on the first cold morning of the trip
 

The Bakery's old delivery truck turned billboard. The loaf of unsliced bread that we bought made amazing sandwiches.
 
We left town about 12:30 and headed for the Hot Creek region. About ten miles into the 40 mile uphill drive my gas light came on, but I figured that we would be fine... We coasted into the first gas station in Mammoth Lakes on fumes and I put 14.3 gallons of gas into my manufacturer listed 14 gallon tank… It was sheer luck that we made it and didn’t end up on the side of a steep narrow mountain road. I kicked myself for not noticing it before we left Bishop. I could have put us in a hard spot. For the rest of the trip I watched the gas gauge like a hawk and never let it drop below the halfway mark.

Following a crude map and half remembered spoken directions we found our first tub of the trip. It was a three hundred yard hike across a snow and ice crusted field to a hilltop where we could see little wisps of steam rising from the knoll. We found the water and the tub construction there perfect. There was a valve that let 138*F water mix with cold water as it flowed into the tub. The water swirled in the low profile, rock-lipped vessel with the out-flow spilling over a wide low ledge and flowed back into a small alkali trickle of a creek. Laurel and I soaked there for over three hours until we felt sufficiently wrinkled enough to make our way back to the truck. The tub isn’t exactly secluded – two other couples came and went while we were there, but it was well worth the little hike and a fine introduction to the area.
 

Laurel around hour two in the tub #1. We felt like the snow monkeys in Japan, just letting the day float away while we sat in the hot water.
 
We left Mammoth Lakes that night and headed to our next tubing destination. Hot Creek is a fairly large and fairly developed area that was supposed to be full of natural charm. I had to put the truck in 4X4 low, but we went all the way to a BLM gate that marked the start of the trail in. After stopping and reading the posting on the gate, we decided that Hot Creek wasn’t for us on this trip: ¾ of a mile hike on snow and ice, very popular, and bathing suits were required. After discussing our options, I drove to a more secluded tub built into the side of a rock outcropping. It took a little bit to find it, but it was amazingly scenic. We couldn’t have asked for more: a high walled tub that blended in perfectly, a fire ring for a night soak accompanied by a roaring fire, and guaranteed seclusion – it was 5 miles down a rutted icy road that turned into a goat trail. There was only one problem – the water was only luke-warm. The temperature outside was hovering around 20*F and there was no way either of us was getting into something less than steaming hot. We got back in the truck and decided on another tub and started to drive off before I had a mini-epiphany and stomped on the breaks. While looking for the tub from a parking area up the hill I had heard water running and figured in the back of my mind that the pipe that was tapping the hot spring must have been leaking at a joint. I ran back along the pipe and found the disconnection – a hose clamp had come loose, and repaired it with a screwdriver from the truck. We went back to the tub and piping hot water was now flowing. I was so proud of myself for turning failure into a success. We went to sleep that night thinking about an early morning secluded soak before taking off for home.

The best laid plans of mice and men… It turns out that seven hours wasn’t enough time to have the repaired water supply heat the water that was already in the stone and rock tub. I only realized this after stripping down and climbing in around 7:00 AM. I was warm as long as I sat under the flow. Only after I was sitting in the tub did I find and ingenious stone plug at the bottom of the outside wall. If only I would have known about it, drained the tub of the cold water and let it refill with hot while we slept… Laurel would have not any part of it and helped to dry my off after I got out and made a mad dash for the warm truck. We were out of time and decided to head back home and leave the other tubs for future exploration.

 

Laurel properly attired for the bitter cold weather that greeted us the second morning.

Matt - NOT proberly attired for the weather. My body was ok, but my head was FREEZING!! It was a very nice tub though.
 
The trip back was fairly uneventful. We stopped at the Mt. Whitney trout hatchery, fed the fish, and looked around. Just after lunch in Big Pine, we pulled off the road to take a needed nap in the back. It is so freeing to tote your bed around with you and not have to worry about a hotel of the bother of pitching a tent when you get sleepy while driving – just pull over, crawl in the back, and start snoring! The traffic was rough and we didn’t get home until around 8:00, but even long painful drive home was worth the memory of Laurel lazily propped on the edge of that stone tub wall, the side of her head laid on her crossed arms, her body completely submerged in hot flowing water with sun-kissed mountains, blue skies, moving clouds, and snow covered hills painting the back drop.
 

The view from the second campsite and tub the second day. This is why I love California.