Liard Hot Springs

I took my time on my 30 hour journey to Edmonton, so the trip didn't seem too bad. The best part of the journey is the stop at Liard Hot Springs in the middle of nowhere between Fort Nelson, BC, and Watson Lake, Yukon. I arrived at the springs under the cover of darkness, in -25 degree cold, with a half-full moon lighting up the snow-covered landscape. I had the whole place to myself, so I spent a good 2 hours floating around, au naturel, admiring the steam and feathery ice crystals surrounding the spring. Balneology at its finest.

Southbound

In a few short hours, I will begin the 2000 km drive from Whitehorse to Edmonton. There should be some good festive cheer going on seeing as how Jenny and I have a wedding sandwiched in between Christmas and New Years. Just in the past week, winter fully arrived up north with enough snow to cross country ski at the lower elevations. I tried a couple of times to get some nice winter-wonderland pictures, but fading light and a dead camera battery have foiled my attempts. But I dug up a picture of Jenny from last year from a mid-winter, -25 degree ski on the Auriol trail in Kluane National Park.

Visual Mathematicians

Jenny completed a personality quiz a while back (can't remember which one), and was typed as a visual mathematician. As you could imagination, a visual mathematician would be adept at spotting patterns (but not necessarily be a math wizard). I like to think that every artist must have some visual mathematician in them somewhere.

Jenny has gone to a few stained-glass workshops organized with friends and has created some beautiful pieces. This tree frog is only her third creation, and is my favourite. It is her own original design and I think it is brilliant -- the frog is sitting on a branch set against the sky with his (her?) fingers extending into the leaves, and the fanning and enlarging of the leaves towards the lower left makes it seem like the image comes out towards you, really giving a sense of depth. Jenny gave it to her sister as a wedding present, so her new project is to make a stained glass piece for our condo.

I also made this as a gift for Sandy and Jeff's wedding while I was on a shift down in Mexico. The sculpture is made from African Kisii stone (bought in Edmonton), and mounted on a slab of barite that I collected from the exploration project in Mexico. Barite is special to Sandy's heart because she earned her PhD by studying barite-precipitating springs. I often worked as her field assistant, so there will likely be a future post about us flying around the Canadian north in helicopters. This also means Jenny and I have no shame in expecting some original artwork from family and friends as wedding gifts.

Realizations...

Jenny has commented that my blog is funny (mostly funny weird, with a little funny haha) because I jump from one topic to another with little chronological continuity. I am completely aware of this. I realize that my photos from Turkey are two years old, and I have yet to explain why I was there in the first place, but I will get to that eventually. I could talk about the endless string of cabs and occasional police visits to the condo across the street from our place, but that would get old quickly (and no, it is not a drug house). Instead, I post about interesting things that I've already done, but never had a chance to share.

She also mentioned that since we'll be getting married in about 2 weeks (!!!), I should give her a more formal introduction on the blog. I will keep with the theme of jumping around by presenting a short photo-essay on one of our early spring day hikes at Sheep Mountain from a year and a half ago. Sheep Mountain is above Kluane Lake, and the starting point for the journey up the Slims River to the Kaskawulsh Glacier (in my November archives). Snow on the aptly named Sheep Mountain's southward facing slope melts sooner than snow on the surrounding mountains, so Dall sheep spend a lot of time frolicking there during the spring migration.

Iron Springs

Just down the road from the very touristy Pamukkale is a smaller spring system depositing iron-rich limestone (the oxidized iron is responsible for the orange colouring).



Local Turkish peasants come to this hot spring to sit and wade in the soothing waters. Their bathing attire is in stark contrast to the Speedo-clad, body-mud-rubbing Europeans at Pamukkale.



Springs have long been thought to have healing properties. This lady was collecting mud from the spring pools to rub on the chest of her sick grandson in hopes of it returning his health.

The spring wasn't completely devoid of tourist attractions. For a small fee, this camel was available for all your riding pleasures.

Cotton Castle

Hot springs the world over attract tourists. It is no wonder why, really. They are nice to soak in, and commonly form beautiful landscapes when minerals precipitate out of the water. One of the most popular hot spring destinations in Turkey is Pamukkale, which literally translates to "Cotton Castle" because of the bright white limestone deposits formed by the springs. I don't feel like geeking out much more than that, so I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Back Home

I finally made it back home to Whitehorse after nearly 3 weeks of hotel living and downtown office work in Calgary. I learned a lot, but long days, inactivity, restaurant food and beer contributed to an extra 10 pounds on the belly. At least it will help to keep me warm while skiing in -20. Being in an office while it was cold outside also made me long for a hot spring.


But not one quite as crowded and commercial as this one at Pamukkale, Turkey. Partly because any number of these people could be trying to cure one of the following conditions...


And in case anybody was wondering, balneology is the science of the therapeutic use of baths. For whatever reason, many of the Europeans visiting Pamukkale think that balneology includes smearing calcite mud all over your body. The following images may be disturbing to some viewers.