Skiing to Hot Springs & The Iconic 395 Highway.
A Bucket List Trek Through the Eastern Sierras
I started writing this as I am sitting in a camper that is waving back and forth and I ring out of my hair from the wetness.
Not a lot of water drops hit the ground as the tips of my hair are frozen. Looking at the mountain report, it’s 110mph winds at the top of Chair 1 here in Mammoth, California. Despite the wind, I just checked off a bucket list item: skiing to hot springs.
This has been on my list for quite some time, but there’s been a lot of hurdles: conditions, time of year, tearing my ACL (the typical list). But being in the Sierras the last few weeks, we received a storm with an accumulation of over 10ft that opened up an opportunity I just couldn’t pass up.
The iconic 395 highway.
The 395 is a breathtaking drive as you pass some of the greatest and most beautiful peaks in North America. Every time I start this drive, I always stop at Jersey Mike’s in Lone Pine. It’s my favorite spot to stop. I always sit at a picnic table at the gas station with what I consider is a pretty solid sandwich, staring at Mt. Whitney. It’s incredible, and hard to beat.
I spoke with a geologist recently about how the Eastern Sierras were created and it is incredible.
Mammoth was created by the Long Valley Caldera—a massive 20-mile-long depression formed by a “super eruption” 760,000 years ago. Mammoth Mountain was formed from a series of eruptions starting 57,000 years ago, yet the area still remains geologically active. The hot springs are created as snowmelt and rain from the Sierra Nevada peaks seep into the earth, where the water is then superheated by hot volcanic rock. Driven by intense pressure, this water rises back to the surface through faults and then there you have it: a hot spring.
Geology is cool, right?
The hot springs have become iconic to this region—Buckeye, Travertine, Wild Willy’s, Siphon, Hilltop, the list goes on. Usually, they are reached by car, but in big winters there is a small window of opportunity to ski out into the tundra and reach the hot springs before the snow melts.
After 10ft of snow this week, it’s time to go on an adventure…
Skiing To The Hot Springs
Cross country skis or touring set? I said to myself.
Staring into the cluster mess of the trunk of my car, I begin pulling out my cross country skis. Clank* As the multiple skis clap together, I begin to question all of my life decisions and how many pairs of skis I have in the car. I reach for the cross country skis with the thought that buckling my touring boots in a swimsuit in the snow with 50mph winds didn’t feel super fun. We jump into a foot bank of snow and begin loading up.
It’s time to start skiing out.
I’m in awe.
Skiing out to the open field, the Sierra peaks behind me with a contrast of their snowy white peaks and a bluebird day that felt taken out of a mountain magazine. The intense sun creates a deep blue against the fresh white snow coating the incredible mountain range behind. Patches of the brush and desert ground are beginning to peek through, as it is clear this window of opportunity is dwindling. We are surrounded by ranges: the Eastern Sierra and the White Range (a place I haven’t explored yet, but would love to).
All of a sudden, Welp*
There is a dry section of brush and moss. We are creating our own path as we dodge creeks, ponds and I guess it is time for a brush crossing. Being lazy and not wanting to un-click out of my skis, I giggled and skidded across a field of brush as the mud stuck to my skis (oh, that’s definitely a giant bush as my ski gets stuck) trudging to the next snow patch.
I’m realizing how special it is to enjoy this, as this ability to ski might not be here tomorrow…
Skiing further we finally make our destination. I scurry to the side of the rocks, and with not a person in sight, I peel off my ski clothes, laying everything on the rock. I am barefoot, standing on rock and snow, where I let out a small yelp as I begin climbing into the spring. I ease into the water as suddenly the warmth of perfect temperature water begins to sting my cold skin. I take it in for a few minutes, and when the stinging stops, I take in the views around me.
These springs are special.
There was a crisp silence from the cold air, and you could feel the mountains around you come alive, covered in a fresh coat of snow as the deep blue of the sky mixed with stormy clouds taking over. We spent hours there, and eventually, two guys joined us who had decided to hike in through the thick snow. We shared conversations; I always tend to meet interesting people at the springs, from jet propulsion engineers to trail angels, etc. This time a man told me a story of chasing a girl he fell in love with here in Mammoth.
The springs always bring great stories and people together to take in the beauty of the water, the mountains, and the incredible sky that’s always changing as time passes.
Eventually, the time came to leave. I was feeling incredibly stubborn at a perfect 98 degrees. I did not want to peel off my swimsuit in the cold wind to put on my skis and ski back for a few hours. But realizing I was getting left behind was enough motivation.
As I turned around one last time to take in the glimpse of the hot springs…
And then suddenly, I found a quarter on a rock.
I was stunned as I held it up in front of me. When I woke up today, I prayed and asked God for a sign. My Grandma used to collect pennies everywhere we were. There were times I dove into the street to pull that woman away from a penny, because once she saw one, she had to have it. She would run out, grab a penny and then she would hand it to me and say, “Every penny counts.”
That has never left me.
A penny might feel small, but I have always thought of everything in life as a penny. Every small thing we do matters. And today, I needed a reminder that through the small things or how hard life can get sometimes, someone is there with you.
To find a quarter, on a rock in the middle of this tundra, that was a beautiful sign.
As we started the ski back, the sky was no longer the deep blue we saw in the peak daylight, but a flat light of whites and grays where the depth of the mountains began to stare back at us.
It was almost dusk, and the sun was setting in the distance.
But there were moments, as the sky moved through grays, that one of the deepest blues I have ever seen in my life opened up the sky—in different shades from light blue to indigo to Sierra waves hitting the sky.
It was a show for us as we were skiing back.
Eventually, the sky turned into dusk as the clouds broke for a moment to experience the classic pink and orange sunlight breaking through. I take a deep breath and continue skiing into dusk. Eventually, we reach the car where my hair and eyelashes are frozen, but I feel a sense of awe at how beautiful these incredible mountains are.
Thank you for reading and joining me on this super fun and geological adventure. Spending the last few weeks in the Eastern Sierra has been a true gift, and it is like being in a second home for me. I will be leaving for Argentina this week for a dream trip to Patagonia. I look forward to sharing it with you from there.
I’m glad even with the sad weather this winter, and mud where there should have been snow, this journey was still possible. Add this one I didn’t know about to my bucket list! Also *frozen eyelashes*