Yesterday was a total flop for getting out of the house. It has been one hell of a week, so as I sat down to write yesterday, I noticed that I had a strange sensation in my body. It was a few weeks of stress and tension, all built up in my neck and shoulders. So, I dropped my dog off with the grandparents for an afternoon of puppy-sitting and set out for some hot water to sit in for a few hours.
Last summer, at this time, the sky was nearly black for a few months because of forest fires burning up in this area. Thousands of acres of beetlekilled timber were wiped out. Years of unmanaged forest and undergrowth scorched the earth, leaving only blackened posts sticking out of the ground in places. Without any vegetation to slow the water coming in from the August monsoon season in the mountains, all that dirt and rock and mud has to wind up someplace.
I-70 was shut down for days because of mudslides. US 40 and 125 were also closed down in my neck of the woods for similar reasons. 125 was opened up again, but 40 is still being cleared. 40 was the direct way to Hot Sulphur Springs, which is aptly named, because the springs are heavy with sulfur content. You wind up smelling like burnt gunpowder for days after you’ve visited there. But for $18 you can sit and soak in any one of 23 springs and pools as long as you like. The next closest place is Steamboat, where $25 gets you a swimming pool, a hot pool filled with kids, and two adults only pools filled with creepers. Or there is Strawberry park, which is $35 (cash only) and is a naturalist attraction after dark. With naked old people packed in the one pool like sardines in a can.
I don’t have any problem with clothing optional hot springs and have been to a couple myself and participated completely in the experience. Once you get over the initial shock of naked people walking around, it’s pretty tame. People come in all shapes and sizes. Perhaps the most striking thing about it is how people get their hair cut to match their clothes. Without the clothes, hair styles seem really odd.
So, I set out on the long way around to Hot Sulphur to get my cheap hot springs experience on. As I drove, the storm clouds started rolling in. I passed a semi-truck and trailer at the turnoff to Rabbit Ears pass that was laying on its side. The highway patrol and local sheriff’s deputies were fist-bumping and the ambulance was headed out. In the 90 minutes it took to get there, the highways had been choked with travelers detoured away from I-70 and US 40 due to the mud slides.
When I arrived at the resort, the parking lot was full of people sitting in their cars or on the pavement on their towels. This was not a good sign. I had just driven 90 miles to find out that the resort was temporarily closed due to lightning. A storm cell had been blown in from Grand Lake and was just sitting overhead. I waited for a little while and checked Accuweather. It showed the storm clearing out in about two and a half hours. So, I decided to turn back and just enjoy the drive, roll down the windows and breathe in that air that only smells that way in a Colorado summer storm.
Such a scent can conjure up old memories and put a smile on your face on a long drive.
By the time I hit the beginning of Rabbit Ears pass, no further progress had been made with the semi. A wrecker was trying to pull at it with the hook as a front end loader was pushing from the other side. For the next 45 minutes I waited with an ever-increasing line of cars behind me. The rains dropped the temperature outside to the low sixties and a weeks worth of fatigue and stress that should have been washed away in stinky hot water put me to sleep as I listened to music. I woke up as two more trucks had pulled up beside me. There was no more room for them to be backed up on the highway, so they started making another line. The wrecker and the loader moved, having made no more progress in uprighting the truck, and a mile long snake of cars and trucks and campers got to push on ahead.
Everyone loves the mountains until they realize just how much at the mercy of the weather we really are. The important lesson in all of this is to not let moments like these bother you but rather get the silver lining out of them that they offer. I got one of the most relaxing naps in the rain that I can remember out of this deal. As people rush from place to place all they do is worry about getting there on time or how they’ll look when they get there or any number of silly things they occupy themselves with. There is a certain amount of zen you gain from understanding that your plans, in the grand scheme of things, really don’t matter. What matters is being present in the moment. Having patience. Being open to other experiences than what you set out to find.
And being grateful that you weren’t the one driving that truck that rolled off the road.