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Checking in on Hot Creek |
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Thursday, 12 February 2009 |
Story and photos by Suzanne C. Ganatta
Special to the Mammoth Times
 photos courtesy alex ginter The temperature in Hot Creek can change in seconds. These photos were taken 5 seconds before and then during a violent geysering event. in which boiling water erupted above the surface. Any swimmer caught in this part of the creek would have been severely scalded.
Such a magical pool exists near Mammoth. It’s a matter of snow and magma – molten rock – playing their parts in geothermal activity and it begins in the Mammoth Lakes Basin.
Snowmelt feeds into the five lakes that culminate into lower Twin Lake, whose outlet is Mammoth Creek. The water journeys at a typical temperature no higher than 50 degrees Fahrenheit along the southern side of Mammoth before crossing U.S. 395, for an eastward flow totaling 11 miles.
Meeting Hot Creek State Fish Hatchery, it warms from thermal springs yet still seldom exceeds 68 F.
Here Mammoth Creek becomes Hot Creek, and the stream alters to a northeastern direction. It twists and turns through Hot Creek gorge, a deep, narrow and rocky valley of about 2.5 square miles. Continuing northeast it merges with the Owens River, which flows southward into Crowley Lake.
In the gorge are two wide, deep pools known simply as “Hot Creek” to the thousands who have soaked in its mineral-rich heated water. Thermal springs mix with the stream’s cold water for a temperature about like that of a hot shower, though boiling-temperature water surfaces in adjacent pools.
The 1960s brought hippies to Hot Creek, and overseer U.S. Forest Service (USFS) mostly looked the other way, although improvements such as a parking lot and toilets were built.
With subdued activities during the 70s, the USFS left Hot Creek alone. By the 90s, swimming in the nude became a thing of the past as families frequented the pools.
Today, people can only tour the geologic site and read the interpretive signs as Hot Creek has been officially closed to swimming since June 2006.
Seemingly, this closure could be a heated fight. But according to Dan Lyster, Mono County Economic Development Director, “There has been no public outrage to reopen,” adding that it is a Forest Service decision, and “It is unfortunate, but there are no plans at this time for reopening.”
The issue, said Inyo National Forest Public Affairs Officer Nancy Upham, is safety – quite reasonable after the abrupt changes that took place in May 2006.
It was no Old Faithful, but 6-foot geysers shot up out of Hot Creek. Lasting a few seconds, occurring at irregular intervals, and with several minutes between eruptions, this upward spurting of hot thermal water was reason enough to close the swimming holes, according to the USFS. Occasionally, popping sounds were audible hundreds of feet away from the gas-charged water eruptions.
Similar increased activity took place in the 1930s and the early 1980s. However, this time the USFS condemned Hot Creek from human soaking by installing an elaborate fence preventing would-be bathers from entering either swimming hole. Those caught going beyond the fence into forbidden territory can receive a citation sporting a $175 fine.
“Initially when the accelerated changes first started happening [geysering],” Upham said, “It was viewed as a temporary closure that would be reversed.”
Since then, she added, they have considered other factors such as the history of fatalities and serious accidents. (In recorded history, there have been a verified 12 deaths at Hot Creek.) A posted sign at the site states most of these were at night and alcohol related, thus for the safety of the public the area is closed sunset to sunrise.
“The focus right now remains on monitoring and evaluating the situation into the future as we continue to work on a very regular basis with the USGS. We evaluate the concerns they raise to us; as long as there is thermal activity happening there, it’s pretty hard to mitigate the safety hazards to a point where it would be reasonable to reopen,” said Upham.
Lyster said, “The county contracts with the USGS to conduct hydrologic studies. USGS Hydrologist Chris Farrar collects, manipulates and presents Hot Creek data, such as venting location changes of thermal waters.”
According to Lyster, one study that determines the amount of geothermal water entering into the stream by measuring chloride levels upstream and downstream from Hot Creek has shown, “The geysering doesn’t necessarily mean more (thermal) water is coming up. There can be the same level of water in the creek, just different levels of force.”
Farrar speculated that because Hot Creek will always be in a state of uncertainty, it will probably not open again, although that is up to the Forest Service.
A Winter Visit to Hot Creek
By Suzanne C. Ganatta
Hiking the mile beyond a locked gate blocking eastbound access on Hot Creek Hatchery Road, I revel in the quiet. (Westbound access is also blocked near Owens River Road.)
Few trek to the thermal area in winter; in summer large crowds drive to the canyon rim for an overlook of “Hot Creek Geologic Site.”
The solitude is peaceful; the crisp air smells of sagebrush while my steps traverse the rolling hills. I reach the empty parking lot.
I step carefully over patchy ice and snow, navigating the 0.1 mile paved trail down into Hot Creek gorge. The path is lined with signs for prohibition of swimming and warning of scalding water.
It’s quiet, except for a lone raven—where is his life mate? He repeatedly caws, as if expecting me to answer. After all, there’s no one else around.
It’s nearing a winter sunset; the heat of the day will dissipate and Hot Creek’s steam will place clouds within the narrow canyon walls.
I so badly want to soak in the hot water, to let its thermal heat dissolve away aches. Yet fencing keeps me far from the stream bank, away from the magical mineral waters.
A spotted sandpiper startles me with a low-swooping flight pattern and loud song seemingly crying at my intrusion in his sanctuary.
The stream gurgles at its entrance into the upper swimming hole. The mossy bottom is undisturbed; the muddy banks almost void of human prints. Sulfuric smell lingers. Trout still swim in the cold-flow along the northern bank, where the hot water doesn’t reach with its spreading waves.
I remember how alternating cold-hot-warm blasts ringed outward from the pool’s deep recess, from the hot spring source. If my feet dug into the volcanic sandy bottom too far, the heat would nearly burn the bottoms.
I spy several inches of bubbly rise above the water’s surface. A hungry stomach-gurgling sound emanates from the creek. I giggle at its urgency. It responds with some popping noises and more growling.
Memories surface of family outings at Hot Creek, all centered on spending the day playing in the water.
As I hike out, I marvel at the view – the snow-capped White Mountains behind me and the Sierra Nevada Range’s white starkness contrasted with the high desert’s winter browns. I should be content, but one thing is lacking. I can’t help but feel that my body should be thoroughly relaxed after visiting Hot Creek, but just viewing the stream doesn’t melt away my aches.
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Last Updated ( Friday, 20 February 2009 )
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