Liard Hotsprings

The primo local escape destination for Fort Nelsonites is a sulfur hotspring two hundred miles north of town. Yesterday, a friend and her family introduced me to the joys of winter dipping. The steam coming off the surface of the pool hits the -15 air, covering the trees with hoarfrost and condensing into a five foot deep, gently precipitating snow cloud. We watched beads of ice collect on eachother’s hair and eyelashes for a while, then had a water fight. In the background, some parents from Arizona were telling their kids to stop putting snow on their heads. I decided to go for my camera before it got too dark. “So the idea is to go to the hot end for a while, and then dash out and change really fast, right?” Nods of affirmation. After the requisite overheating, I stomped out of the pool, grabbed a towel, and headed for the change room, trying not to slip on the ice or let my wet feet freeze to the deck. By the time I had changed, I couldn’t wring out my swimsuit, because it was stiff with ice, and had begun to freeze to the bench. I went for my toque, but I could barely get it on, because after the water fight, my hair had solidified into a hedgehog of little haircicles. I melted the frost off my camera with my finger. Can’t wait to show you the pics.