Splashing Around In the Devil's Bathtub

Today we decided to take a hike in Spearfish Canyon, which is part of the Black Hills and lies to the south of Spearfish, South Dakota, where our campground is located.  When we arrived, our friend Lee Ann gave us some clippings describing interesting trails in the area, and  Devil's Bathtub was one of them.  This gave us a chance to get to know the Black Hills without venturing too far afield today.

The Black Hills are known as "Paha Sapa" or Ȟe Sápa to the Lakota Sioux.  The hills were called "Black" because of their dark appearance from a distance, due to their coverage by Ponderosa Pines.  Native Americans have a long history in the Black Hills. After conquering the Cheyenne in 1776, the Lakota Sioux took over the territory of the Black Hills, which became central to their culture.

We drove up the canyon and parked our truck in a roadside parking area.  You can see in this photo how the hills could look black from a greater distance:

We hiked up to the trailhead, which is on private land and is not marked by any sign, nor is it blazed along its route.  If you are interested in locating it, check the "Devil's Bathtub" link above.  At the trailhead, which has room for some car parking, we crossed Spearfish Creek on a bridge --

-- and turned to hike up along Sunshine Creek, which drains into Spearfish Creek.  Sunshine Creek is a pleasant, wadeable freestone creek, with a mixture of larger boulders, flat stone tables through which the creek flow, and an otherwise gravelly bottom.  It is in a pretty, tree-lined setting in a small sandstone canyon:

Gazing up, you can see the geology of the sandstone cliffs, with pine trees towering overhead:

Here, Kathy rests from our repeated stream crossings, as the trail weaved back and forth on either side of the creek, necessitating at least 5 or 6 crossings:

The sedimentary canyon walls tempted us to look for fossils.  While we paused once or twice to search --

-- we generally stayed on task and continued our hike upstream.

After about 1.5 miles, we reached the "bathtub" itself, which is a round hollow in the rocks probably formed by an ancient waterfall long since erased as the creek eroded the rock upstream:

The "bathtub" is relatively shallow, and intrepid hikers can waterslide down the spillway above it and splash into the pool.  Here, Kathy demonstrates the correct posture for freezing your feet and lower legs in the cold water:

Below the pool is another sluiceway that is a mite too narrow to serve as a waterslide, but it is nevertheless pretty:

We stopped by the pool and enjoyed our lunch, not realizing that this territory is owned by a little pirate who insists on charging a toll to anyone who is foolish enough to stop and eat lunch on his ground:

After lunch, a rest, and watching other hikers enjoy the pool and the waterslide, we started working our way back downstream.  Having surveyed it all the way up, we realized that, for the most part, the stream was wadeable the entire length of the trail.  The wading hike down the stream was much easier than clambering up and down the shoulders and each side of the stream to avoid canyon walls:

Occasionally, the canyon narrows, but there are always paths through the rocks, as David demonstrates in the photo below:

The hike was shorter than we would have liked, but made up for lack of length by its beauty and uniqueness.  Once we returned to the trailhead, we hiked down to the truck, returned home, and spent a relaxing afternoon on the lawn, which allowed Baxter the cat to get a little more outside time than he normally does.