Liard Hot Springs is a natural, hidden paradise tucked into Canadian wilderness. The sulfur-stenching pond burrows into some hard-to-find underwater caves showed to me by locals, and portions of the ground being squishy caused by the growth of who-knows-what. The water was hotter than an average hottub and at some sections boiling.
After a morning soak, we drove on and stopped for lunch at a little place called Toad River Lodge whose name’s origin is still unknown and under debate. As we ate, nearly eleven thousand baseball caps loomed from the lodge’s ceiling like bats (Note: 11,068 to be exact).
We drove down a detour for two hours to a little town inside the border of Northwest Territories. We found out quick the town was more boring than Sound of Music, and headed back in a last minute decision. We drove late into the night, and slept on the side of the road with nothing but a trashcan for company. The next morning was spent searching frantically for a bathroom (nearly an hour from where we spent the night).
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