Logiciel Libre

Yesterday, Dad and I went to check out Goldmyer Hot Springs. The guy Dad met online was supposed to (a) have a reservation and (b) carpool to the springs. He chose (c) not to show up.

We decided to plod on, aided and encouraged by a helpful National Park ranger. Dad bought a $10 Golden Age parking passport which covers parking for any national park, for life! What a deal.

On our way alongside the [Snoqualmie River] Middle Fork road, we passed four aid cars, a firetruck, and a few sheriffs. “Road’s closed,” one mumbled, “thar’s a gate up ahead.” We took our chances and drove on, past the scene of an accident that supposedly attracted the aid cars and sheriffs like stink on poop. Looked like some druggie van crashed into the side of the road.

Up ahead, no gate. More sheriffs, though, these ones from Bellevue and Olympia. “No criminals at large, just looking for a missing hiker.” No word yet on that hiker.

We continued about 26 miles up a treacherous dirt road that nearly shook our fillings out. No sign of anything hopeful.

On our way out, a friendly pickup driver pointed us towards the entrance to the springs. Over the river and through the woods was literally his advice, but it was good enough! We made it–after a scary river crossing–to the caretaker’s hut.

A nice lady named Sandy helped us sign in, and I paid $12 for admission. “Any Senior discounts?” I asked, half joking. It seems there are! Dad got in for free! Now we were really stoked.

The springs were beautiful, originally discovered by the prospector Goldmyer, some history of whom is available at the caretaker’s hut. There’s a beautiful cave and pools ranging from a billion degrees to below freezing. One might even lay in the river if one were so adventurous.

The trip was a smashing success. Thanks, Dad!