day 20—spring in our steps

The alarm jolted us awake at 6:00 AM, a cruel reality for a morning this cold. We layered up, packed our gear, and set off, hoping that the promise of steaming hot springs would make the early start worth it.

By 8:00, we arrived at the trailhead, only to find the road closed for the season, adding an extra 1.7 miles to our hike. Not ideal, but manageable. What wasn’t as manageable? Missing the actual trailhead and unknowingly tacking on an extra 1.5 miles. The mistake hit harder in the biting cold.

The trail, blanketed in snow and ice, was relentless. Each step demanded caution, and we were grateful for our crampons, which clung to the frozen ground beneath us. Without them, it would have been less of a hike and more of a slow-motion slip-and-slide.

But then—steam. Rising in delicate wisps against the stark white landscape, it signaled that we’d made it. Fifth Water Hot Springs, tucked into a winter wonderland, was ours alone. No crowds, no chatter—just us, the rushing river, and the warmth of mineral-rich pools defying the freezing air.

This is more like it, I thought, as I compared it to the more commercial springs we had been.

We sank into one of the small pools near a waterfall, the contrast of hot water against the frigid morning air electrifying. The sulfuric scent clung to the mist around us, seeping into our skin, our hair, our clothes—but in the moment, we didn’t care.

By the time we started our descent, the solitude was gone. We passed at least 20 hikers heading up, ill-equipped for the cold and icy path, their hopeful faces making us grateful for our early start. The trail felt less ominous in the daylight, more alive.

From there, we drove to Fruita for the night, working our way back to Denver before we headed to Steamboat Springs for a ski weekend with Taylor and Michael. Hours later, settled into a warm hotel room—a treat for our aching muscles—I caught a faint but familiar scent clinging to me. Sulfur. A mortifying realization hit: I had been in public—talking to people, ordering food—while still reeking of hot springs. 

No regrets, though. Some adventures just linger a little longer.