My Impressions

Photos by Peter Dorfinger and Martin

After hitting Jackpot, we left Nevadan territory where gambling is legal, and crossed the border into Idaho. Quick stops at a ski shop and a burger joint in Twin Falls left us no wiser about where to go – backcountry literature was nowhere to be found.

Hitting the Jackpot just before leaving Nevada

We chose as destination what seemed most obvious on a map – Stanley, a remote mountain town some 200 miles north of Twin Falls and conveniently close to the Sawtooth mountain range, the latter being home to no less than three of the 50 Classic Ski Descents of North America. A stop at the local park rangers’ office was reassuring. Not only was there plenty of backcountry skiing in the area, especially for those who brought with them a snowmobile to traverse the flats between the highway and the base of the mountains, but also a number of easily accessible hot springs. We had no snowmobile but optimistically procured a map and were given directions to the various hot springs. The weather forecast was promising what would become the first snowfall in weeks. We checked into the local motel and went for an evening soak at Cove hot springs.

A first soak in Idaho

The snowfall was somewhat more modest than expected. But we set off from Highway 75 the next morning in beautiful weather and sub-zero temperatures, bound for Mount Heyburn, whose north couloir was a classic descent. It looked as though winter was about to return. The scenery was spectacular and, although the area had clearly been tracked by others, we did not see anyone else on skis. Ten kilometers and a few hours of traversing seemingly endless flats later, we descended the north-facing aspect of Mount Heyburn’s shoulder and decided that the crust was not worth going any further or attempting the couloir. A broken heel piece one of Martin’s bindings made that decision even easier. It was a 20km roundtrip for some 700 vertical meters.

Heyburn flats

Back at the car, we refocused on what the conditions were right for: hotspringing. Martin wondered where to get the bindings fixed and whether that mechanical problem might jeopardize the main non-hotspringing activity before it had even started. We found the coordinates of Boat Box hot springs on some obscure webpage and spotted them little later just off the highway. It was a retired piece of mining and smelting equipment that had been turned into a bathtub for two – magnificent. Back at the motel, we felt compelled to also pay a visit to the property’s very own hot springs – another magnificent pool covered by a wooden cabin with an opening facing the Sawthooths. The sunset was spectacular. A long hike and two different hot springs in the same day. If that wasn’t something to be proud of.

An afternoon of prime hotspringing

Sunset and moonrise over the Sawtooth Range, Idaho

As magnificent as this secluded part of the United States was, we had to concede that the park ranger was right: skiing here was for those who came with a snowmobile. Also, we’d have to wait for days or weeks to see more snow. We thus left Stanley after two nights heading further north.