I want to warn you that I'm not much of a writer. I'm a stay-at-home mother and I've been wanting to write my experiences to you for a while now.

All three of the kids are in school and it's wintertime on our farm when everything slows down.

And I'm thrilled to be sharing this with you finally and please again forgive my inability

to write.

I'm just gonna stop here.

I haven't done anything to the story. I'm reading it straight off her email and it's she to the writer you did a great job on this. There's nothing absolutely nothing wrong with it. I live in Bozeman, Montana. I've had two encounters with something. The first

one was when I lived in Pony, Montana. It's a tiny town tucked into the mountains.

Around 2012, my friend and I were in the mountains above Pony Montana,

and there's a hot spring up there that a good friend of mine was a caretaker for. The owners were a rich

couple that were never there, and especially in the harsh winters. Being Montana girls, we were never

afraid to grab some beer and throw the car in four-wheel drive and sneak up to these hot springs.

The pools were tucked into a ravine that was surrounded by steep mountains and large rocks. It really was a beautiful and peaceful place.

There was a gate and there was a key and we had access to it thanks to our friend. We probably abused our

privileges but either way we had fun and time moves on young single girls that

knew we would rather ask for forgiveness than for permission.

This pool was about the size of an average swimming pool, and above that was a smaller pool in a wood stove sauna.

We would often sit in the sauna.

It'd start a fire in the stove and pour water over the rocks that sat on top of it.

Well, this created the heat, and that was our little heaven.

This had been the hundredth time that we had been up there.

We always had plenty of our favorite beer and music with us.

After we sat in the sauna, we jumped in the pool.

...