The Early Bird Gets ... Wet (Back to Devil's Bathtub)

Every so often I think about some of the adventures I had with friends back in the olden days, and some of the places where those adventures took place. Maybe "olden days" is a bit of an exaggeration, but it was a long time ago. One of those places has been on my mind more than others. I'm talking about Devil's Bathtub in Spearfish Canyon. Last time I made the hike was when I was 18 or 19 years old. So, I guess "olden days" is actually pretty accurate. And, while I don't believe in living in the past, it is nice to visit once in awhile. 

One of the reasons (the main reason) I haven't been back in so long is because it has been totally overrun by tourists and locals. Like other once-hidden gems in the Black Hills word has gotten out over the years. It used to be the only way to get there was to have someone with local knowledge take you or give you directions on the promise that you would only share the secret with like minded friends and family who would become fellow guardians of the mystery. The trail was unmarked, narrow, not groomed and somewhat difficult to maneuver. Back then there were no signs and designated parking was not available. Today? Well, not so much.

The trail is clearly identified and well worn. There is also a parking lot about a quarter mile up the road marked as "Devils Bathtub Parking." I've seen well over a dozen vehicles there at any given time. In spite of all that I decided it was time to go back. But, I was not interested in sharing the trail with tourists who read about it on Facebook or saw it in a YouTube video. My solution was to go early in the day. Way early. I got up before sunrise and pulled in to the parking area at 6:30 am. I slipped on my waterproof backpack containing a camera, water bottle, plus an extra pair of socks and shoes to replace the ones that would get wet during the several stream crossings required to reach the final destination.  I had forgotten details of the trail but it was no problem since it is so well travelled there is no way anyone could possibly take a wrong turn or get lost. It did feel familiar, though, in a peculiar sort of way. And when this site came into view I knew I was almost there.

Then, after just another few hundred feet, I saw it for the first time in 47 years. It was just like I remembered it. Spectacular!

And there was not another soul around. Perfect. So...I thought about it for a few minutes...and...decided to take the plunge.  Now here's the deal - I'm 66 years old and have had quintuple bypass heart surgery. What was I thinking? Crazy. Right? Especially since I was alone up there. Plus, the water was really rushing forcefully down the slide and the pool was pretty full. All that made me consider if it would be wise to tempt fate. On the other hand, I thought that perhaps fate should not tempt me, and after a brief hesitation I climbed on in and let go. I shot out of the chute like Marvin Garrett on Khadafy Skoal in 2004 at the Black Hills Roundup. The difference is that I couldn't hold on and was sucked down to rock bottom and had a slight moment of panic while completely submerged with the water rushing all around me. I popped right up, however, and everything was fine. Great actually. No. Better than great. It was the biggest rush I've experienced in years. For just that one brief incredible moment I felt more alive than I have in a long time. I let out a loud yell to put an exclamation point on it. The yell was probably just as much to do with the frigid water as it was the exhilaration of the experience. It was freakin' cold! 

The lesson of the story? There isn't one really. Other than maybe "You're never too old." Except that sometimes you are. But not me, and not on this day.

Roger O'Dea      6/8/2021