Spanish Fork Hot Pots

Scott usually whistles while he works. So even though I do not love hearing a shrill whistle to the same tune over and over and over, I'll take it if he's cleaning the house :)

And Saturday morning was one of those mornings.

We began at 7am.

About 10 o'clock, I couldn't take the whistle anymore, so we decided to get out of the house and get some fresh air.

We only got one picture before the camera died.
Here it is:

It was a perfect day to hike, in that the snow was fresh and sometimes still falling, yet the skies were blue in other parts and we could get a bit of sun on our (very white) faces. Our hike started out and ended with very awkward moments:

1. I went to throw away a bag of garbage from our car before we began. No trash can outside, so I went to the restroom thinking there must be one in there. As I opened the door to the restroom, I first heard a (very girly) scream and then saw a scarred little 13 year old boy whose privacy I'd just invaded. As I quickly let go of the handle and turned around, pretty much every member of his scout troop gave me the stink eye. Awkward.

2. We went to the less-well-known "upper" hot pots in Spanish fork. If you've done the hike, you know that the lower pots are fairly shallow and not even too warm. So we ventured past the 20 people crowded in that pot, and went up just a bit further to the very warm and luxurious upper hot springs. There was only 1 man there. Naked. Awkward.

Considering the new snow, the 2ish mile trail was pretty muddy. It was really slippery pretty much the entire way.

After the days excursion, I was thinking "poor Scott."

In order to get to the upper hot pots, you have to cross a rushing, freezing river. This river would have been a real hallenge even for the pioneers. It was fast, and miserably cold, especially when you are crossing barefoot in a swimsuit, while it is snowing on your bare skin. Then, once you cross back over the river, there was nowhere to clean your muddy feet off and get your shoes/clothes back on, so we ended up hiking with mud oozing through our toes for a while.

Back to the part about "poor Scott." If I had been in this situation while dating Scott, I would have done a few cute screams, but basically just toughed it out and acted like I was having fun. But Saturday, no. I was wailing and complaining and telling him "you're gonna get it!" Even while he waited in the river offering a hand to help me across. How is that fair? Poor Scott had to put up with me when I didn't show this side of myself before the wedding day. Oops.

Good thing he still loves me. He usually just tells me "actually I don't have a moaning session on my schedule, so you'll need to put that on my google calendar before you do that. Now get going!" And then we do. And life is great :)