Teton's Tub

Wave after wave, gentle crystalline waters rhythmically slapped the rounded stones at the shoreline.  Bubbles gurgled amongst the stones after the wave's retreat, only to be immediately drowned with the next wave.  A water-logged tree, with all its branches broken off from tumbling in the churning waves, was beached and targeted for use as my bath stand.

Jackson Lake in the Grand Teton National Park was going to be a very chilly bathtub.

Dried sweat from an earlier trail run and being smoke-soaked from sitting around a swirling campfire provided unwanted ingredients to drag into bed. So, getting cleaned up was necessary, but I had limited choices. Either walk a little ways and pay money for a hot (luke warm?) shower in a community shower that I envisioned being like a trucker's type of stall or, plunge in the frigid lake waters and scrub away.  My decision was easy--off through the woods I scampered towards the lake.

Like a wild animal, I stay hidden in the trees to silently watch the shoreline, evaluating the area for optimum timing and seclusion. 

Taking my time, I glance up and across the massive lake, absorbing the immense beauty and sheer magnitude of the Tetons. They jut straight up to the heavens from the opposing shore and are ruggedly majestic as they watch over the lake.

Noiselessly, I ease from the woods and slide down the gritty embankment to the stony shore.  Kicking off flip-flops, there are few sharp edges or pointy stones to cause me to wince. Most have been beaten smooth from years of percolating in the waves.

A wave crashes over my feet and, whoa, it's going to be chilly.  Bubbles briefly race from between the stones as another wave washes them away.

I keep tabs along the shoreline and no one is seen as I drape clothing over the huge piece of driftwood.  Quickly, I snatch my small bottle of environmentally friendly Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap and dart into the water to reduce my outline to nothing more than a head bobbing in the waves.

The water is "take-your-breath-away" cold...possibly 30 minutes earlier the molecules were stuck together in the form of snow/ice?  I dunk my head and crest the waterline wanting to yelp, but remain disciplined since I do not want to draw attention to myself. I scrub the heavily peppermint-scented shampoo into a stiff lather and quickly go under to rinse the soap from my hair. 

I look back at the shore and my suddenly chilled body really wants out, as in right now!  Muscles were beginning to cramp and I'm surprised to discover how far I had somehow drifted from shore. Skin tightened and I wish I had taken a selfie to see how youthful I must have appeared with wrinkles smoothed out from my skin being under tension. (Lines of wisdom, creases of happiness, folds of joy...whatever...I'll label those things exactly what they are, wrinkles!  I should have listened to mom as a young boy and slathered in sun tan lotion. But, her comments of, "Someday when you're older you'll wish you had used this more," went unheeded as she stood holding a jug of Coppertone. Well, guess what  mom? As usual, you were right.)

If people are present, it no longer matters as I splash around in an effort to vacate the icy waters. I probably sound like a cliff diving grizzly bear doing belly-flops as I flounder out of the water and wrap up in a towel. Teeth are nearly chattering as clothing is forecfully yanked on while it tries to cling to damp skin. After winning the fight to get dressed, I stretch out on the sun-warmed stones. 

I will always opt for a shower, but today I bathed in one of nature's most incredible bath tubs that was very spacious and provided spectacular views. And, I now smell like a gigantic candy cane in case a bear needs to freshen his breath...