Sleeper Spring

I'm always ambivalent when it comes to "sleepers." I love it when people tell me about a fantastic campsite or hike or fishing hole that no one knows about, but as soon as I know about it I'd just as soon no one else did. You know? Tell me about sleepers, and then take a permanent oath of silence. And because I'm a misanthrope, I'm usually happy to do the same.

That said, I feel safe mentioning a certain sleeper here, because it's so far in the middle of nowhere that it really doesn't matter if you know about it or not. (Besides, I think only about two people regularly read this blog.)

The place is called Balmoreah State Park, and it sits outside the thriving metropolis of Balmoreah, Texas. Never heard of it? That's because it's about six miles off of I-10 about 150 miles east of El Paso. Talk about the middle of nowhere!

Which is part of its charm. After driving for what seems like days across the West Texas desert, it is a true delight to find an oasis. When my family and I spent the night there on the way to our last camp, we pulled in at about six at night, and the thermometer still read 97 degrees--in October! Too hot? Not when you consider the main attraction: a massive natural spring that stays at about 65 degrees year round. And I mean massive: the pool is larger than three Olympic swimming pools combined, and in places it is more than 25 feet deep. You share your swim with catfish, turtles, and some strange small guppy-like fish.

Jumping in, the water feels too cool--but you soon get used to it. And of course when you get out, the evening air feels cool, too--for about five minutes. Then, thanks to the desert air, you're completely dry and feeling VERY mellow. I don't know what it is about the high desert, but when the sun sets and your body temperature gets right, you feel at peace with the world.

Anyway, my family's crazy about Balmoreah. Both True and Kate jumped off the high-dive, and Emma was brave enough to swim with the catfish. Once the sun goes down, we stay in one of the little adobe cabanas that sit next to the creek that flows from the spring. Families sit outside in the warm night air and barbeque and visit. And every big city in the world seems a million miles away.

So there you go. Probably the only sleeper I'll ever disclose. And unless you live in El Paso, it won't matter!