The “Adventure” of Montana’s Developed Hot Springs

By Little Sis, 3-12-07

For a girl accustomed to bubbling hot springs surrounded by gorgeous scenery, uncrowded except for a few other random naked soakers (see Big Sis’ “How to Meet Naked Montanans”), my recent experience at the developed pools of Chico Hot Springs was a little bit of a shock.  I have to admit I was initially disappointed by the bathing suit requirement (until I considered how other bathers would appear in the nude, and then I was kind of grateful).

My bi-weekly escape from the valley involved three other young women, and we seemed to be a scarce demographic at the resort.  One friend remarked, “I keep thinking something is on my face because people are staring.” I informed her that it was actually the fact that she fell into the precious category of filling out her bathing suit top while at the same time sporting a lack of wrinkles.  She glanced at the toddler and grandmother next to us, the latter of which understandably sent me a dirty look.

The lack of accompanying soakers of our own age lead us to wonder what other groups of female friends in their mid-twenties do for vacation.  Probably soak for free somewhere with sublime scenery, happily in the nude with PBRs in hand, sans screaming children with noodles.  Not to say that Chico isn’t beautiful; it’s just that Emigrant Peak is a little obscured by the Poolside Grill.

Actually, Chico is much more luxurious than I’m used to.  The hot pool is twice the size of my kitchen, and I was comforted by the fact that I probably wouldn’t find any used condoms around the rim (as has been rumored to happen at Jerry Johnson, where the other young people who live below the poverty line go to relax).

However, our singular presence did lead to some unexpected attention.  The most comical was a man, possibly in his late forties, trying to keep one eye on his small child and his other eye on the young women at all times.  At times, we feared for the safety of the child.

Speaking of children, their effect on unsuspecting soakers was hysterical.  One of my girlfriends was hit in the head by a flying water toy, and nearly simultaneously another girlfriend received a surprise splash in the face, both with margaritas in hand that they rushed to protect.  One muttered (or actually, just tried not to yell), “F***ing kids.”

The splasher sent a horrified glance in her direction and decided to leave her friend’s offending water toy beached on the concrete.

We came to the conclusion that children have no concept of “relaxing,” and play rowdy games involving lots of yelling while using mildly annoyed, drink-in-hand, attempting-to-relax adults like exciting hurdles on an obstacle course.  For this reason, we discovered it was best to soak early in the morning while those children were eating their breakfast, attended to by harried adults wistfully dreaming of the hot pool.

As if in an attempt to snatch a few minutes of their own time, adults would slap some water wings on their kids’ arms, flotation instruments that are roughly twice the size of a child’s head and seemingly twice as useless.  We watched one small boy try several times to figure out how to make his way across the pool without the “flotation” devices engulfing his head to smother it and force him under the water as they demonstrated their awe-inspiring buoyancy.  He gave up and sat resignedly on step until his parents finished their bloody marys.  His sister threw a noodle at him.

We also discovered that nothing dulls the annoyances of water toys like a few drinks before 4pm.  Don’t judge; we were on vacation. 

I actually just read about Chico in an excerpt from a Thomas McGuane essay.  He recalls how in the 1970s, his friend glued himself to the pipe pumping hot water into the pool and declared that all the water had been filtered through his bathing suit.  The merits of chlorine in a family-destination pool begin to surface. . .

QUOTE OF THE WEEK:
My friend about to go on a date with a gentleman who has 2 children:
“I mean, that’s something you have to deal with fairly early if you like the person.  It’s not like leaving dirty socks around.”

MARCH MAKING IT CONTEST: YOUR BEST PICKUP WHILE RECREATING.  Enter to win a bouquet and a bottle of wine!
Share your story (or a friend’s) about the most memorable time you were hit on (or hit on someone else) while recreating: floating down to Johnsud, the Snowbowl chairlift, the climbing wall at Kootenai, it’s all fair game.  And don’t forget to tell us if it was successful!  Send stories to or .