If you’ve ever talked birthdays with me, you’ve probably heard me lament about being a January baby. The almighty Saint Google and the National Institutes of Health states that “patients with melancholic depression were more frequently born in fall/winter and less often in spring/summer compared with patients with atypical depression”. Sad girls club since 1990! I envy my spouse who celebrates their birthday in May and some of my best friends who are summer babies; and not just for the seasonal depression, because celebrating anywhere outside in my part of the world has to be in a hot springs or ice skating for me (and I’ve lived way too long in Colorado to have only discovered these birthday options in recent years, but what are you gonna do?).

So this year for my 34th, we headed off to stay at our favorite hot springs where they recently built tiny homes with private soak pools. The day before we set off, we noticed the fine print said they can’t guarantee the temperature of the pool. Malcolm called, and they reassured us that they pump hot water into the pools every so often. And they offer a discount on your entire stay if the pool isn’t warm enough. We talked about it for half a day, and decided to try it, though a bad cold snap was headed our way— our reason being that if our pool was cold, we could walk down to the main pools and soak there, no problem.

We enjoyed our pre hot spring tradition at our favorite sushi restaurant, ITO, in Cañon City. We had hot plum sake (my favorite!), green onion soup, and I got the scallops. The waitress there is one of my favorite wait staff people of all time (and not just because she called me pretty when we last went, but I did tell Malcolm to give her a bigger tip 🙂 ). I never remember her name, but she is so nurturing and really cares about what we consume and if we like it. When she brought us our soup she said, “Here, this will warm up your bones.” Between her engagement and the hot sake and soup, we were guarded against the frosty chill of the screaming gales outside.

By the time we arrived at our lodgings, the temperatures plummeted post sunset, stinging any exposed skin. The tiny home was so cute, and the pool area was gorgeous. A sky crusted in winking stars bejeweled the heavens, a crescent moon competing for attention. We made our way to the pool, which was lukewarm. We stayed as long as we could handle the wind siphoning the heat from the water. And after a long while talking myself into getting out and running for the shelter of our tiny home, I couldn’t wait to get inside to warm up.

The only problem with that was, the outlets didn’t work (rendering useless the small space heaters), and the large heater stopped working. The sink in the kitchenette didn’t work. I had ice in my hair like I was on the Titanic that wouldn’t melt. To save cost, I’m sure, there was no shower for me to thaw, only a small faucet with a small basin next to the toilet. I climbed into my off-brand Snuggie and bundled up in the plush bed. But I just could not get warm. They had a 24 hour number we could call, but we didn’t have service so far out in the boonies. So Malcolm hiked to the office to ask them for help. Not too long later, he returned, and we heard them rooting around and flipping breaker switches outside, but to no avail. My body was just so tired and wanted to get warm, so we left and ended up at the Holiday Inn. And after a blissfully hot shower, we stayed in and went to bed early. The hot springs graciously allowed us to schedule another night to return to stay, and I’m looking forward to going when the low is maybe 13 and not -10.

The next day, we had breakfast at a cute litter diner. They had one of my favorite breakfast/brunch options, eggs benedict. We then bought tickets to the Royal Gorge Railroad and went to do Skyline Drive, a road situated on top of a mountain ridge, which Malcolm found online. It was supposed to have been a three hour trek roundtrip, but it ended up only taking 10 minutes (Malcolm must have been reading about another scenic drive in CO. There are so many, it’s an easy mistake). We ended up going into the railyard’s gift shop to wait for our train.

The train ride was wonderful, if a bit chilly. I recommend doing this when there’s not a January nor’easter attacking your skin. One of the coolest features about the train was the observation deck, an open air car meant to dazzle the rider with the gorge’s cracks and crags.

Because it was unreasonably cold, their water lines froze so only one bathroom was open for the whole train, which meant we had to traverse the observation deck to get there. I enjoyed the sights doing my hobble run thing to get to the car with the bathroom. They have a full bar and serve surprisingly fresh food. We got hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps, and I got a burger which was surprisingly juicy. If you go, I recommend you pay for the second level of accommodations because the cheapest seating option has no tables. You have to eat off trays and hope your drink wouldn’t get knocked over by the people sitting across from you, trying not to touch knees. In that cabin, two seats are facing two more seats. That would have been great if we knew the people sitting there, but we did not.

But, as you can see, the views are incredible. When buying tickets, make sure to buy them on the right of the train. That’s the side the river runs along. And when you get to the end of the track, the train does the whole trip in reverse, so when you’re on the left side, you’re on the left side. Pretty views from that side too, but not like on the right side.

Though the cold was its own character in our comedy of errors, we had a great time.

Thanks for reading!

xMaezie

P.S. I’m not mentioning the hot springs name because I don’t think our experience reflects the wonderful service and amenities they usually have. Every business gets it wrong sometimes, and this one has gotten it right every other time since we’ve been going there for the past four or so years. No harm done!