The springs
Coming through the speakers: Crazy talk radio on the AMOn the nightstand: As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner
Chena Hot Springs was “just down the road” from the Chandalar Ranch. In Alaska, much like in Texas, “just down the road” could mean over an hour on a desolate stretch of pavement.The Ford F-150 I had rented rambled down the well-salted road as the sun began to set. The truck was a beast to maneuver, as proved by the scratch/dent that thankfully went unnoticed by the rental company, but provided the mental stability to venture through the Alaskan wilderness well after dusk.I wanted the springs to provide a magically intimate atmosphere. I wanted to be alone in a hot mineral bath spewing steam into the frigid air, the Northern Lights dancing just beyond. Unfortunately for my dreams, the springs sat in the middle of a high-end resort. Amazingly, it didn’t dissipate the magic.
It was a long walk down the unheated tunnel wearing only a swimsuit. The water lapped up against my ankles. Then the hips. Then fully submerged. Couples found privacy in the hidden nooks. Friends snapped icicles off each others hair. A half-moon rose up behind the mountains.Just one month earlier, I had been diagnosed with Psoriatic Arthritis. The swelling in my knees could be compared to a cantaloupe or a watermelon, depending on the day. I knew it was folly, but for brief moments I could actually trick myself into thinking the waters really could heal me. At one point, full with confident faith, I tried to swim a stroke. A twinge of pain immediately struck my shoulder. I looked up through pockets of haze at the crystal white moon. “Please heal me. Please.”It was hard to leave the springs. I had hoped to watch the Northern Lights from the water, but after an hour, the lights hadn’t yet appeared and I was drained of energy. By 10:30pm, I decided to play it safe and drive back to the ranch before it got too late.Halfway back, it happened. Greens and red filled the sky. The lights weren’t just dancing, they were jumping over themselves. I kicked myself for being stuck in the car with such a display overhead. By the time I pulled into the ranch, the lights had burned themselves out. I couldn’t call it disappointment though.