I started taking photos back in middle school. I would bring disposable cameras to school to take pictures of my friends. After taking a photography class in high school, I began developing film in the dark room. I loved using my dad’s old cameras – his old slides of his travels are incredible – and fell in love with film photography.
I originally just started taking photos of my life in the small town I grew up in.
Photography didn’t always coincide with travel adventures. I originally just started taking photos of my life in the small town I grew up in. As I grew older, I continued to take pictures of my friends, my family, and my life, I just started living a more adventurous life and it showed in the photos. The world is full of incredible people and places and cultures and landscapes… All of that. That inspires me. I love getting to know landscapes and people.
After 3 and a half hours of driving through rain and snow, we made it to the trailhead of Idaho’s most mystical hot springs. Another hour of hiking through sagebrush up into hills and we reached the springs themselves. Hot water gushed out the side of the mountain, cascading down giant boulders and mist filled the air. We set up our tents nestled in the juniper trees above the springs and watched as clouds made the snowy mountains appear and disappear with ease. This was the start of our Thanksgiving.
In our tents, we all quickly changed out of our hiking clothes. With nothing on but swim suits and snow boots, we made a mad dash down the rocky slope to the hot springs below camp.
We had the entire pool to ourselves. Hell, we had the entire mountain to ourselves. The six of us sat in the water, rain lightly falling on our heads, as clouds engulfed the mountainside. Our little pup, Waylon Jennings, ran up and down the rocky slope, jumping from rock to rock to avoid the hot water.
A good friend gifted us a bottle of homemade Apple Jack – spiked apple cider – and we enjoyed the wintery drink as we soaked in the springs.
We didn’t get a glimpse of the valley below us the entire evening. The hot springs remained in clouds until sunset. After the color seeped out of the landscape, we curled up in our sleeping bags for bed.
In the morning, the clouds had lifted, and we enjoyed a morning soak with full view of the mountains and valley below. The hot springs dropped off suddenly, ledge after ledge, creating multiple pools of varying temperatures and waterfalls cascading down to every pool. We spent the morning exploring the springs, climbing over the mossy rocks like wild boys.
On our hike in, the trail had been pure slush. Difficult to walk on, but doable. But overnight the trail had turned to ice and the hike out of the mountains and through the valley of sagebrush was a slippery task. The trailhead to the springs was a small parking lot in front of a private residence. To get to the hot springs and back to the car, we had to hike up multiple icy switchbacks and through a giant metal gate that separated the property from public land.
…although we huffed and puffed and slipped up the switchbacks to bypass the private property, I couldn’t have been happier.
The turn off to the road that leads to the hot springs is unmarked. There are no signs pointing you to public land access or to any hot springs. It is so secluded the fact that these landowners are willing to allow access to the springs is incredible. That doesn’t always happen out West. A lot of land owners want to keep private access to public lands. But the access to the springs was incredibly welcoming. There was a nice restroom at the trailhead. A jug of salt was placed at the beginning of the switchbacks to help with the slippery trail. There were bridges and stairs when needed. So although we huffed and puffed and slipped up the switchbacks to bypass the private property, I couldn’t have been happier.
Clouds sat in the drainages all along the Salmon River on our drive home. We stopped in the town of Salmon and gorged ourselves on pastries, soup, and coffee before driving the last 3 hours home to start preparing our Thanksgiving feast.
Back in Missoula, we stocked up on drinks, started roasting the chickens, and made all our Thanksgiving dishes. While the food sat in the oven, we played games. For hours we lounged around the apartment waiting for everyone to arrive.
Finally, the feast itself. Thirteen friends gathered around a table in a tiny Missoula apartment to celebrate all that we were Thankful for. So here’s to good food, amazing people, beautiful places, and little dogs. Cheers.
Story and images by Jocelyn Catterson
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