(This post was last modified: 04-28-2023, 03:11 AM by Lipripper660.)
It was raining and bone chillingly cold that summer of ‘72. I was on the Middle Fork as cooks-helper which meant I did exactly what Cloyd, the camp chef, told me to do. My Dad was the Lead Guide of the party who, with exception of me, we fully grown men. It was July but at 8000 ft and an up river wind, the rain was sucking the heat right out of me. As a tough farm kid I knew the best way to fight hypothermia was to generate heat through work so I paddled and paddled even when no paddling was needed and still the weather was winning. My Dad saw my plight and I’ll assume there we’re other men who were in trouble so he decided to pull into camp at a place several miles short of our usual camps because Trail Flats has an excellent hot springs. Usually when the boats landed my work would begin but today dad told me to show others where the spring was and he told me to get in and stay until the chill was gone. So me and a dozen clients climbed into the hot water and soaked life back into me while Pop set a tent and moved our personal gear up from the boat. After a half hour soak I felt human again and Dad had me skin off my wet cloths and put some dry on. Wow, what a difference that springs made and before long I was making coffee for the crew. Before the day ended, the rain stopped and the sun came out and things were good again. Trail Flats Springs will always be a favorite hot springs and perhaps the reason I love that suphurous smell our Idaho hot water exudes. And that sulfur is the reason I love this soap. Scent itself is lovely and the sulphur lives in the basement but man it is glorious.