We awaken to a brisk morning camped at the end of the road in Big Pine Canyon. I creep out of bed and check the temperature outside. 35 degrees. As the sun creeps down the steep canyon walls towards our site, we sip steaming mugs of coffee and listen to the playful harmonies of the creek's traveling song. Scrub Jays visit our site in search of yesterday's scraps (there are none and he quickly moves on). North we drive today, up Route 395 with the glorious Sierra crest glistening to our left with a fresh layer of snow up high reflecting the sunshine through the clear desert air of the Owen's valley. The highway is surrounded by sage, but the Sierras rise rapidly to our west with almost no foothills. All the drainage access roads leading to the mountains go no further west than 8 or 9 miles before they terminate at the outlet to some mountain lake. Beyond that,another 1,500' of elevation gain brings you to the snow line around 8,500 feet. On this eastern facing aspect of the range, some open slopes are melted out, but the gullies, and couloirs are still choked with firm snow.
Up past Round Valley, Mammoth, June Lake, Lee Vining, Mono Lake, Virginia Lakes, we drive, finally stopping in Bridgeport to re-provision, check e-mail at the coffee house/bookstore behind the Galen Rowell Art Gallery. After a quick stop by the regional ranger station to check on road closures in the forest, we head up into the forest towards Twin Lakes,turning off on buckeye road, 7 miles from the highway in search of the Buckeye hot springs. This freshly graded dirt road leads up out of the valley scrub, and into a peaceful ponderosa pine forest. After crossing the bridge over Buckeye Creek, take the second right fork and head further up the hill. Stop at the off angle dirt parking area on your right 3/10 of a mile further. From here, we park the camper, grab our daypacks and clamber down the steep hillside leading down to the creek below. Just before the river's edge comes into view, and tucked along the rapids, just below a travertine bulge in the hillside, sits three steaming pools, separated from the stream by simple river rock walls. The water feels like around 106 degrees, and we undress and gingerly test the water. The spring floods scour the pool bottoms pretty throughly each season, and the locals appear to patch and repair the pool walls using river sediment at the beginning of the rubbing cycle. We have the pools all to ourselves this afternoon and it is truly magnificent to ease neck deep in warm water, looking up at the snow capped mountains and being literally at eye level in a rushing Sierra run-off stream. The adjacent rapids create a symphony of percussion, as different size stones are pushed down the mountain in the riverbed. As the water pours over one ledge to the next, and squeezes between tree roots, and over submerged logs, each transition generates a different frequency and tempo, the magical ensemble composing ever changing and mesmerizing river music. The hot water extracts the road strain from my psyche, and the tightness from my muscles. We sit at the edge of the medium warm pool, our feet soothed by the heat, and our skin cooled and tingling from the afternoon breeze flowing downhill with the river. Small birds skitter up stream looking for bugs. Late afternoon clouds begin to gather along the crest, and another bather appears from above. We exchange greetings, then depart to leave him to find his own peace in this magical spot.
This is by far our favorite eastern Sierra natural hot spring. There is plenty of free dry camping in the forest on the way to the spring before you reach the first bridge.
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