Dirty naked hippies; McCreedy hot springs, diamond peak, and Summer Lake Hot Springs

11/27/16

The view from my bedroom window

                I sat atop the rocky outcrop looking at the reservoir below, while I sipped my boiling hot coffee.  The sun rose through the clouds, looking like the moon in a clear night sky.  I beat the sun today.  I stared at an eagle as it cruised the top of the water looking for an easy catch for its breakfast. The air was crisp and calm.  As I breathed out the steam from my breath created a cloud that joined the surrounding mist.  We would leave around eleven and go to the hot springs.  Yesterday we scoped out the springs across salt creek, today we would explore them.  We would soak content, like pigs in a warm summer wallow.

                I started the bus, warmed it up for ten minutes, and began my multi point turn.  Alice clung to her chair as we backed up, the cliff side was far too close for her comfort.  She confided in me after we started down the road that she had been afraid all night that the cliff we were parked on would slide away, and we would plunge to our deaths.  I spent much of my childhood on bus trips with my dad and brothers, camping out on whatever road side parking with a good view that we could find on our way to whatever final destination we were headed to.  I knew no such fear.  We rumbled down the road winding uphill towards the hot springs.

                We arrived just before noon.  Pulling off to the side of the road, I parallel parked the bus between two cars on the roadside. 

cars i parked between not pictured

We headed down the unmarked trail to the first small creek crossing.  A white oak tree lay across the water, and upstream a few large well placed, and undoubtedly slippery rocks, presented a second crossing. 

I walked James, before I put him in to his kennel.  After making a large deposit of dog shit, James was ready to go back to the bus.  It was too cold for him. 

                Alice went up stream, I went down.  We crossed the stream at our perspective places.  On the island in the center of the stream, we met on a path of round smooth rocks.  We walked together for a few hundred yards to the next crossing.  A large cedar tree lead to a snag in the center of the large rushing creek.   I walked across the slick logs, enjoying the cold air from the creek as it blew off of the top of the rushing water and over my face.  The white caps of the water lapped loudly against the logs as they smashed against the bottom of them.  After heel toe stepping down the two hundred meter pine tree, long fallen and now serving as a catwalk, we arrived on the west side of salt creek, and the less used portion of the McCreedy hot springs. 

From the snag a pine tree lay across the remaining width of the flood swollen creek.

A couple of fourty something hippies were naked in the first spring, we walked past them and on to the next pool.  So far the water in both pools looked like spoiled chocolate milk.  Through some of the clear patches there were plumes of some type of black algae.  We walked down the trail alongside the creek a half mile, 1km, looking for more soaking pools.  We found only one, however it was full of black algae plumes, and one very old, very wrinkly, very naked hippie. 

McCreedy hot springs .We turned around and headed back up stream.  This time Alice crossed far more rapidly.  I hesitated in the middle, and took a bunch of pics.  I shot a few pics on the water’s surface with my cannon waterproof camera. 

                We drove a ways, 2 hours, and took lunch at the lake overlooking diamond peak.  Tomato sandwiches with tea were a refreshing break after a long drive.  As we looked over the calm lake, snow fell on Diamond Peak, while the clouds carrying it blew over the summit.  I meditated on climbing it.  The snow flocked trees were beautiful in the afternoon sun. 

Afternoon tea came to a close, and after a few pictures of the winter wonderland that surrounded us, and letting the bus warm up, it was time to move on.  We headed towards the next hot spring.  Summer Lake hot spring, I had been to the year before with my friend Kate, sits in a valley in eastern Oregon, near the town of Paisley.  www.summerlakehotsprings.com/

                The winds buffeted the bus so hard that even at 40mph we were blown across the road.  The mountains surrounding the valley were snow caped their white winter veils ending slightly before their bases met the valley.As the sun set the winds sped in to the valley from the mountain tops. 

We rolled in to the campground and found a level pull through site, site number 7.  I hooked up and drained the grey and black water tanks, and started a load of laundry.  After I checked in with the 40 something lady in the front office whose tangled locks smelled of patchouli oil, and weed, I went back to the bus to get dressed for a swim in the large indoor pool that was supplied by spring.

                  After we were dressed, and ready for our swim, we walked the ¼ mile to the large 1900’s building that covered the indoor pool.  We stopped by the office on the way, and Alice visited with the hippy lady and got the wifi password for internet access. My mag light lit our way and I toted the backpack full of towels and water bottles as we staggered side to side like drunks in the high winds down the winding gravel path.  The old barn looked like a Gothic cathedral.  The walls made of old growth timber shown grey with age in the bluish LED beam of the Mag-light.  As we entered high arched rafters were illuminated by two upwardly focused flood lights.  Highlighting the naturally beautiful grain of the old growth beams that made up the majority of the structure. 

There were two younger couples in the water, getting ready to leave.  I walked in to the changing area, and Alice followed behind me.  The water, which filled a cement rectangular pool, flowed out continuously through a side gutter that skirted all the way around the pool, which reached a depth of 5ft.  After convincing her she would not drown, Alice stood under the inlet pipe where the hot water from the volcanic vent flowed.  I tried to get her to swim, but she was far too scared.  After an hour and a half in the mineral water it was time to get out.  A family of eight came in, and got into the water, all of them helping their father.  It looked like he had had a left sided stroke.  He slowly entered the pool, using the hand rail and the shoulder of one of his sons as a crutch.  I watched as a man who had looked hopeless and unable to move freely, smiled lopsidedly, and began to swim out in to the hot water of the pool to embrace his wife.  We were dressed, and toweled off quickly, since the wind was howling through the gaps on the barn, the building was a brisk 40 degrees F.

                Back at the bus I cooked Alice a red Barron pizza, with fresh sliced tomatoes, yellow peppers, and extra cheese added to it. 

I got down the campaign flutes, and a bottle sparkling apple cider I had hidden.  I gave her ring made of a silver spoon for her birthday gift before we went swimming, she loved it.  I was grateful.  I fell asleep full of contentment as the bus rocked in a sea of wind.