**photographs by Alex Bautista
The first time I spent time near Buckeye Campground was in 2006. Ryan and I were camping at Robinson Creek Campground and, as a newly dating couple he was eager to show me the outdoor places he'd enjoyed throughout his life in the Eastern Sierra. The spot we were headed to, he told me, was best experienced at night. I really had no idea what he meant by that. Ryan wouldn't tell me what we were doing or where we were going until we arrived. The mystery of the midnight adventure and the unknown destination made the drive feel like an eternity. Some of the best mysteries feel that way.
We drove up the mountain in Ryan's 1994 Toyota Tacoma, which rattled and shook as it bounced along the gravel road. As we zigzagged up the mountainside, I could see the small dotted lights below in Bridgeport. There weren't many - the town is quite small - but it showed me how far away from civilization we really were. I remember feeling a bit uneasy, as the road we were on was narrow and oncoming cars were hard to see. Ryan assured me that we probably wouldn't cross paths with a single car driving down the hill.
At some point, the lights from the closest town disappeared. At the same time, Ryan turned off the road and let me know that we'd arrived. I was baffled by that statement - we were in a small dirt parking lot in the middle of nowhere. With the exception of a lone Subaru Outback, there was nothing and nobody else around.
Bathing suits on and lanterns in hand, we started to climb down the hillside toward the fast-moving and freezing cold waters of Buckeye Creek. The walk down to the creek was slippery, made even more difficult by how dark it was and with the weight of that darn lantern in my hand. (I guess in 2006, headlamps weren't in style yet.)
As we neared the bottom of our descent, I spotted the most amazing hot spring I had ever seen. Technically this was the only natural hot spring I had ever experienced, but I'm quite sure that if I had been a hot springs junkie, this still would have been at the top of my list.
Once we sat down and got comfortable in the pool, I took a moment to look around. The cold, rushing waters of Buckeye Creek flowed around our protected pool. Ryan explained that Buckeye Hot Springs is washed out each year by winter rains and the high-flowing river. Locals return in the spring to reconstruct the pool. Large rocks were piled just high enough in a semi-circle to prevent the cold creek water from coming in. The rocks were positioned against the steep cliff that hosted the spring and allowed it to trickle down into our pool. This year, the pool was large enough to hold roughly 10 people.
As I looked up, I could see a bazillion stars lighting up the night sky. Soft, gooey mud squished beneath my toes as I wondered if my body would take on the scent of mild sulfur for the remainder of our camping trip. Every part of me completely relaxed in the 140-degree heat of the pool. the setting was perfectly romantic, even with the naked bearded man sitting next to us.
Yes, it's common for people to dip in the nude. It's quite exhilarating if you haven't tried it.
Our midnight adventure was one of the most amazing experiences I've had in the Eastern Sierra. As much as I love hiking and fishing, the intimate feeling of Buckeye Hot Springs is hard to top.
If you plan on going, we have 360-degree photos and to-scale maps of Buckeye Campground and surrounding campgrounds at Campgrounds360.com. Buckeye Campground is definitely off the beaten path, but sure does have charm. I also recommend Obsidian (for the hiker/horseback rider), Robinson Creek (for the fisherman), Paha, Lower Twin Lakes or Annette's Mono Village (the only one with RV hook-ups). Annette's Mono Villiage is also the only campground without the 360-degree photo tours up yet.