Idaho’s Hidden Hot Springs Will Simmer Away Reality

We’d driven three hours already, down icy, foggy roads that snaked along frothing rivers and through mountains covered in snowy conifers. And now, as we finally emerged into a high desert of sandstone bluffs and wide-open skies in Elk Bend, Idaho, it seemed we might go no farther.

Before us, a narrow trail that switchbacked up the north-facing hill was covered in three inches of snow concealing a layer of thick, slick ice. Three companions had joined me: Joyce Lee, a heavily laden photographer; Tristan Pettigrew, her less-burdened assistant; and Erin Gray, an old Idaho friend I hadn’t seen in years. We came armed with headlamps and hiking boots, poles and fleece, and supermarket sandwiches and a thermos of hot coffee. But what we needed were crampons—something, anything, to help our feet dig in. Because who knew how long it would go on? We had at least two miles of trail to hike and 1,400 feet to climb; slipping and sliding the whole way didn’t seem smart.