“Oh, yeah, we’re totally going to the Hot Springs on New Years’!”

by Iona Lupu

“Oh, yeah, we’re totally going to the Hot Springs on New Years’!” was the unanimous thinking, as we embarked on our three night stay at the Muncho Lake Lodge. My husband’s daughter and her husband had come to visit from South Africa, and of course we were going to show them the best of the North. Never mind the cold, they seemed to be adapting well, skiing and snowshoeing at -30C like they had been living here all their lives. Except they had never been in such temperatures, or done winter sports.

With matter of fact determination, I packed my kids’ bathing suits and towels and away we went (my husband, myself, our two small kids and our visitors from South Africa, who were completely sure that we knew what we were getting into). At the lodge, our host suggested that perhaps -25C would be the limit of cold temperature beyond which she did not advise going into the Hot Springs with kids. “Your fingers get too cold to dress yourself and them as well. It is just not fun when it is any colder”. However, how could we miss the opportunity, and really, what’s -25C, what’s -39C, just numbers from an abstract perspective. Practically, there are 14 degrees of difference between COLD and VERY COLD, but that is only of importance to wussies. Which we were not.

As we started driving from Muncho Lake Lodge, the temperature dropped from -30 to -39. It was very, very cold when we parked the car at the Hot Springs. The fact that we had to run to keep from freezing from the car to the Hot Springs should have given us an idea that perhaps we are on the path to self-destruction. However, once we got there, we were so cold, that the promise of the warm water probably overtook my judgement. My daughter (the 6 year old) started wondering in a very unhappy voice, whether we had to take our clothes off. “You decide if you want to or not. I am ok with us not swimming if you do not want to”. In hindsight, do not do this at home folks. This should be an ADULT decision. The adult formerly known as me was mesmerized by the steam raising from the pool, and I barely blinked as my daughter took her clothes off and plunged into the water, goggles and all. The rest of us followed. My son (the 3 year old), being the strong and silent type, did not say much except for a mild protest, but hey, who’s listening.

Soon, we were all enjoying the water. It was spectacular and crazy at the same time. Our hats were frozen, my daughter’s hair was frozen (yet she kept on diving), and the steam was creating a surreal atmosphere framed by the heavily iced trees, benches, ground, rocks, and well…everything else. The sky itself seemed iced over. The sun was a barely visible shadow of gold dust with a faint rainbow projecting next to it, perhaps a sun dog, perhaps my hallucination from the otherworldly sensations. I lost track of time.

Looking back at pictures, my son’s ears were getting red and frostbitten, even as we were in the water. The hot spring pool itself was pretty lukewarm, except for the spot where the water was bubbling out of the ground, where we all huddled over like primitive Homo Sapiens over the fire. It was time to get out. I figured that I had it all planned: hubby and I would both get out and get dressed, then take the kids out one by one and dress them. The plan was foolproof. I stepped bravely onto the frozen ground. My feet burned. I decided not to swear, although expletives were practically throwing themselves off my tongue. My hands burned. I swallowed frozen saliva and pain. My feet did not fit in my shoes. Somehow, my shoes had shrunk. In disbelief, I looked over at my husband, who was shivering and trying to say something. “I think I got the wrong shoes. These shoes are too small”. We quickly realized that EVERYBODY’s shoes were too small, due to some phenomenon that I had no time to identify but probably best explained in “the idiot’s guide to what happens to your shoes when you leave them outside at -40C and you go take a bath”. I had not had time to read that book, but after wrestling with the situation, we finally got our feet in. By now, my hands were blue and swollen. They also were, unfortunately, not working anymore. I could not move them. I could see that they were attached to my body, but alas the electricity had been shut off.

Luckily, a man from Fort St John that had the same bad idea as us that day had brought a propane heating lamp and let us use it. It made my fingers end their extended vacation and function again. We took our first kid out, the 3 year old boy. He screamed. A lot. We got him dressed. I yelled at him, probably a lot, something like “push, and pull, and push your feet, and stop kicking, and push some more.” It felt like I was delivering a baby. My fingers froze again. I put them next to the heat lamp, and just when I least expected it, my daughter jumped out of the hot springs, screaming for dear life that she is cold and needs to get dressed. No kidding. With barely moving fingers, we got her dressed, but we were not ready, and it was getting harder and harder to make the small movements that dressing a child requires. Finally, as everyone was dressed, my son started shivering uncontrollably. He was so cold, he could not walk. My husband held him next to the propane heater, and while holding him, husband’s jacket caught on fire. He rolled in the show to put it out. I am sure that added a lot of joy to the overall delightful experience, but I was not there to see the show.

I ran to the car to start it and get it warm. My daughter ran with me. She hated running and made me painfully aware of it every step of the way. I put her in the car, gave her a snack, and ran back to the hot springs. My husband was carrying my son. I picked him up and ran with him. It was like running with a 50 lb sack of potatoes wrapped up in two sleeping bags (my husband had given him his own jacket, on top of the snowsuit he was wearing), while I myself was wearing a winter jacket. I barely had anywhere to grab. Awkwardly, I got to the car with him. He even walked for a bit. He was still not impressed, but he was getting warmer. I was a mixture of warm and sweaty body combined with frostbitten face and iced over lungs. I put my son in the car and gave him a snack (note the common snack theme, I am sure mothers everywhere can relate). I ran back to the Hot springs to see how our visitors from South Africa were doing. They were not impressed either, but were ok. I picked up some shoes we had left by the water (mostly because I had borrowed them from the Lodge and absolutely had to return them). I ran back to the car.

Once everyone was accounted for, we took stock of the casualties: two people had ear frostbite: my son, and my husband’s daughter who was visiting. Despite the cold, and the discomfort, and the experience of painful ears, we had a story to tell, an experience to never forget, and aside from the fact that I would never do it again, I think it was not a bad idea.

Happy New Year!