Paradise for $14 a Night

Approximately 10 seconds after turning onto the poorly marked, unpaved road I suffered my first pangs of regret. We were following a tip offered by a park ranger in Alberta. “If you want nice hot springs,” she said, “check out Lussier Springs. It’s in British Columbia, down near Canal Flats.”

We’d gamely turned on the highway to Lussier Springs, and were shocked by its condition. This was the road less traveled – and for good reason. It apparently was designed to offer the roughest ride imaginable. Our truck and trailer shuddered violently as we were shaken about like an overpriced martini. A chorus of rocks crunched beneath our tires, and bounced off our Airstream with a metallic clang.

After traveling some 10 kilometers at a snail’s pace, I was ready to concede defeat. We hadn’t seen a SINGLE road sign, the sun was setting, and the road was getting worse.

“Should we just turn back?” I wondered aloud. “There aren’t even any signs. We should probably go back.”

Kristy shook her head. “We’ve already come this far, and it would be tough to turn around,” she replied through clenched teeth. “Might as well keep going.”

And so we did. We traveled the full 22 kilometers as road conditions degraded from merely lousy to downright terrifying. At one juncture, we rounded a corner and found ourselves traversing a steep mountainside. The gravel road narrowed into ONE lane. Its edge dropped off into oblivion. There were no guard rails.

Under ordinary driving conditions, this experience would have been nerve-racking. But add an 8000-pound Airstream into the mix, and you might need to change your underwear.

At last, we arrived at the base of the mountain. To my relief, we discovered a couple of small provincial campgrounds. There was one, and only one, site available. “You’d better grab it,” a camper advised. “It won’t last long.”

Using a steel crowbar, I pried my white-knuckled hands from SEEMORE’s steering wheel. We unhitched our Airstream, and -- after uttering a few choice words about the journey -- immediately fell in love with the place.

"This is one of the prettiest campsites we've found," Kristy said.

A beautiful lake was 30 seconds from our front door. Our site was private, shrouded by trees, and so cool we needed to fire up our Airstream’s heat furnace. The nighttime sky was filled with stars that cranked up to extra bright.

And the hot springs? They surpassed our expectations. Unlike Banff’s overrated Tepid Springs (which resembled a warm sulfurous swimming pool), Lussier Springs were truly hot. Steaming waters bubbled forth from rocks, forming a natural spa alongside the frigid river.

“I’ve been coming here for 20 years,” one man said. “This is like our own little secret place. That road keeps people out.”

We planned on staying one night in this totally dry (no water, electricity, or sewer hookups) campground; we stayed two. Sure, it would’ve been nice if we’d brought along some food other than Kraft macaroni-and-cheese. But otherwise, Whiteswan Lake was a boondocking slice of paradise – for $14 a night.

After a much more relaxed drive south, we’re back in the States. Our Airstream is presently parked in Spokane, Washington.