Wolf Creek

I spent Monday night in Durango, Colorado then left for Wolf Creek Ski Area the next morning to go skiing. Wolf Creek is where all the locals I had talked to recommended I ski. They said it was the mountain with the most snow of anywhere in the state. I had also considered going to Purgatory, a resort near Durango, but the snow there wasn't as good (so said the locals) and a lift ticket was almost twice the price as at Wolf Creek.

The Wolf Creek slopes were fantastically empty on Monday and not once did I have to wait to ride the ski lift up the mountain. I hadn't been skiing for at least five or six years so I was slightly unsteady at first, but after a few green runs, I worked may way up to blue, then on to black, then back to blue. I don't particularly enjoy the steep, mogul-pocked black diamond runs, but there is a certain rush that comes with plummeting down a steep incline and trying to turn sharply on the snow mounds. I'm glad I tried a few. Many thanks to my dad for letting me use his ski gear!

That evening, I got a room at the Pinewood Inn in Pagosa Springs, Colorado, about 20 miles south of Wolf Creek. Pagosa Springs is known for its sulfur hot springs. There are three places in the town to soak, all clustered off the main street. Two of the venues charge $10 while one charges $20. The only place with a full parking lot was the pool that charged $20. Accepting the wisdom of crowds, this was the place I too selected.

I think I made the right choice. The Springs, as it was called, had over eighteen pools of varying sizes, styles, and temperatures. The pool area is adjacent to the San Juan River and there are steps offering soakers access to the river's chilly waters. (I dipped my hand into the river but did not immerse myself.) Other pools offer waterfalls or silt bottoms, some are silent respites while others are meant to be sociable.

Going from pool to pool, I tested what each had to offer. Just sitting back and looking up at the brilliant stars and thinking about how tiny a speck we are in the great, immense cosmos was pleasantly meditative although I also met with a nice, middle-aged couple from Nebraska and a group of friends from New Hampshire on a winding road trip much like myself.

I told one of the guys from New Hampshire about my adventures meeting presidential candidates in Iowa and asked him if he'd met any of the candidates stampeding through New Hampshire in preparation for that state's Tuesday primary. He hadn't, but he owned a paintball park and said he'd be willing to let the candidates compete in a paintball tournament there in lieu of yet another debate. What an exceptional idea.

Hot springs, I've decided, are quite worthwhile and enjoyable. I resolved to stop at another in Ojo Caliente, New Mexico containing lithium that one of the New Hampshire roadtrippers recommended. Maybe it's all mental, but after soaking I found myself researching the properties of various minerals. Unlike after going swimming in chlorine-drenched pools when especially in winter the water makes my skin dry and itchy, the hot springs didn't dehydrate my skin and I think actually improved my complexion (although I cannot empirically be sure).