Wes Smalling

Star-Tribune Outdoors Editor

Call me shallow, but the meaning of life is a hot tub.

Delirious, my head laid back, arms floating up to the surface, I closed my eyes and sat there in the water like a sponge. I don't know if there's a better way to blow a tax refund than a road trip to the Thermopolis hot springs.

Early spring is such a tease. A little sunlight gets you fired up to get outdoors and 20 minutes later it's snowing sideways. Fed up with the crazy weather, I hit the road for a springtime trip of hedonistic pleasures: Thermopolis State Park with a stop in Shoshoni for a milk shake along the way.

You can't drive from Casper to Boysen, Thermop or Yellowstone without a milk shake break. It just wouldn't be right.

If you're a Yellowstone Drug malt and shake addict like me and you're heading through Shoshoni, let me spoil the surprise: They moved. The historic building was sold, one of the owners told me, so they had to move the shake and burger company down the street. It's now in a little place on the right just as you enter town. At first I was bummed the store wasn't in the cool old building anymore, but the double-chocolate milk shake rolled my eyeballs back into my head with an otherworldly pleasure same as it always has.

The rest of the weekend's self-indulgence involved lounging around in the mineral springs and sipping beers amongst all the mounted animal heads at the Safari Club Lounge. When you're there, raise a glass to Chief Washakie of the Shoshone and Chief Sharp Nose of the Arapahoe who, the story goes, signed the treaty that sold the mineral spring to the federal government with the provision that a portion of it would remain free and open to the public.

On Sunday in one of the free hot tubs at the state park, I was like a pig at the trough hoarding the corner of the pool where the really hot water comes in. I think I moaned. Yes, I believe I actually moaned in public.

The Big Horn River is right there by the hot spring and I didn't even go fishing. Although I hear the catching's been good lately, I didn't bother to bring my fly rod. That's how serious I am about hot tubs. I knew my days would be filled with soaking until I looked like a prune and smelled like rotten eggs.

Yeah, one thing about those "healing waters" is all the stinky sulfur. I don't know how something that smells so bad can feel so good, but after only a few seconds in the water who cares. And floating around in minerals beats sitting in chemically-treated water any day (even if there are 27 different types of algae in the water).

"I wonder if it'll make my hair grow back?" I said out loud, sprinkling some of the magic water on top of my balding head.

"I come here every day. Look what it did to me," a voice behind me said - a guy that was totally bald.

The healing is all in the mind, man. I sprinkled some more on my head. Couldn't hurt. I soaked until I got dizzy. Then on the way to the showers I hopped in the indoor tub for another soak.

Yes, this is the meaning of life, I thought, floating around without a care. And the double-chocolate milk shakes help.