Idaho Springs (hot springs & mine bando nudes - a journey and a half)

This past week I had an entire three days in a row without doctor appointments so I drove out of the Denver area and visited some hot springs that I’ve been meaning to check out since I discovered them a few weeks ago. It was absolutely fucking amazing. They were underground in caves and the pools ranged from 104 to 112 degrees in temp. Anyone who has been following me for a while knows that I love marinating in (natural) bodies of water and am a hot spring aficionado in particular. My pain got really bad in 2017 and it wasnt until 2019 that I started to understand it and be able to manage and cope with it. In the interim, it was the devotional practice of sitting in rivers, lakes, and hot springs that kept me going.  Not kidding. 

ANYWAYS, springs not pictured, but I did add some imagery to my Instagram story. And will upload video for Cervical/video tier patrons. It was below freezing and lightly snowing in the mountains, so I took advantage of my spring access to hop between these mountainous views and the respite of the heat. I took this landscape pic of Echo Pass, with Echo Ski Resprt pictured at the top in the shape of a V. Then I spent a couple of hours driving around the washboard roads and abandoned mines that dotted the upper valley. Right when I was about to turn back for the springs, I found what I didn’t know I had been looking for. A tattered abandoned house teetering precariously on the rotting foundation that overlooked the village below.  The light was fading and I had used all of my energy making these roads mine, but I had to shoot. I turned on my diesel heater and made the van warm as fuck. Then I got all the camera gear together and threw on some 2 second clothes. Damn, just realized. I should get some tear-away pants just for these cold nude shoots lol. Despite all my prep, the actual shoot was a goddamn fuckin disaster. I typically shoot full manual with single shot AF for setups like these. My AF was NOT working. Then my lens was not working. Then my shutter remote died. Then my camera died. I fixed it all and was ready to go, then my nose bled. Then I decided to run with it. Then my AF acted up again. Blood pouring down my ever-numb face, knowing I was pushing my body too far, I totally lost it and started scream crying through the bando walls of my temporary mountain abode. It was necessary. I dashed back to the van to warm up and tried a third time. Exhausted and frustrated and still bleeding, I went with all of it and this time shot outside of the cabin. I put the fucking tripod+camera down for framing and went back in the van. Then I dialed in my settings with the remote. I set the interval timer and with it running, found my spot and glared at the camera. A small fucked up part of me was hoping someone would come around the bend and see this ridiculous scene. But it was dead silent and I hadn’t seen anyone for hours. I was, as I often am, alone in my desolate shoot abyss. As the shutter clicked I felt myself relax on my cold exposed perch (that would surely crumble at any moment). It felt good. I crawled back to solid ground, grabbed the camera, stuff everything in the van, and realizing it was now dark, started my journey back to warmth without even checking the photos. The drive back was really sketchy as I was going a new way and the roads were terrible. But I made it. Suddenly I was back in  the caves. I could still feel the whipping wind on my exposed skin and the bite of the frozen ground under my toes. AND I was safe. 

The mountains always give me what I need, whatever and however elusive it might be. 

(also not pictured: proceeding to nose bleed in the caves and having the leave. And by leave I mean camp out front in their parking lot and return in the morning...)