Fifth Water Hot Springs
Location: Diamond Fork Canyon, Utah
Date: 12/30/2020
The trail starts simple, just dirt, rocks, and a few trees scattered around. Nothing fancy. But as I walk, the sound of the creek follows me, weaving in and out of earshot. The air is cool, but there's a smell… Kind of like minerals, kind of like something eggy. Not strong, but enough to let me know I’m heading toward something different.
It’s about three miles in, and the hike isn’t too bad. Mostly flat, a few uphill stretches, nothing crazy. Other hikers pass by, their hair still wet, giving me the universal “it’s worth it” nod. Good sign.
Then I start seeing steam rising ahead. The water next to the trail, which has been crystal clear and freezing cold, suddenly starts looking different. The closer I get, the more the smell thickens, not bad, just…earthy. And then, just around the bend, there it is.
The hot springs spill down in layers, little waterfalls connecting each pool. The water is bright blue, not like a swimming pool, but a soft, milky blue that almost glows. The color comes from minerals in the water, mostly sulfur and calcium, which scatter the light. It’s the same thing that makes hot springs in places like Yellowstone look unreal.
I dip a hand in. Hot. Almost too hot. The upper pools are the warmest, but the lower ones mix with the creek, making the temperature just right. I wade in, feeling the soft, silty bottom under my feet. It smells a little stronger up close, but not in a bad way just a reminder that this place has been here long before any of us.
This place exists because of a natural cycle, rain and snow seep underground, heat up through geothermal pockets, and return to the surface carrying minerals that shape the landscape. Unlike isolated hot springs, these pools constantly mix with the creek, shifting in temperature and composition. But human impact is just as present as natural forces. Trail erosion from heavy foot traffic disrupts vegetation that helps stabilize the banks, while makeshift rock dams change water flow, potentially affecting the balance of minerals and microbial life. Litter, from forgotten towels to plastic waste, introduces pollutants that don’t belong in this delicate ecosystem. Without mindful visitation and conservation efforts like staying on designated trails, avoiding alterations to the pools, and packing out all trash, this place could easily lose what makes it special.
The balance here is fragile, a reminder that even naturally evolving landscapes need protection to remain what they are.