Shelokum Hot Springs: A Remote Soak in the Heart of Southeast Alaska's Tongass Forest

Photo by Howard Herdi via Pexels

Shelokum Hot Springs sits where the wildness of Southeast Alaska remains stubbornly intact, far from cruise ship docks and downtown Ketchikan's wooden boardwalks. The coordinates place it at 55.35 latitude and -131.6 longitude, deep within the 17-million-acre Tongass National Forest that blankets most of the Alaska Panhandle. This is bear country, old-growth country, and according to longtime users of the spring, some of the finest soaking country in the state.

The approach: two miles into the wild

Reaching Shelokum requires commitment. There is no road access, no parking lot, no fee booth, and no interpretive sign explaining what you're about to experience. The trailhead begins near Saxman, a small community just south of Ketchikan, and climbs through forest that has never been logged. The 2.2-mile path follows terrain shaped by centuries of rainfall. Rooted Sitka spruce and western hemlock create a canopy so thick that even midday feels like dusk. Sword ferns crowd the trail edges, and the constant drip of condensation from leaves overhead means visitors arrive at the spring damp before they've even begun to soak.

The trail presents moderate challenges. Mud is a constant companion, particularly in spring and fall when rainfall exceeds 150 inches annually in this region. Summer months offer the most reliable trail conditions, though a wet day in Southeast Alaska can materialize without warning in any month. Hikers should budget 45 minutes to an hour for the approach, longer for those unfamiliar with uneven terrain. Sturdy waterproof boots are essential, and trekking poles prove invaluable on the steeper sections where roots create natural stairs.

Insect repellent deserves prominent space in your pack. The same moisture that sustains this rainforest creates ideal breeding conditions for mosquitoes and black flies, particularly from May through September. A DEET-based repellent or permethrin-treated clothing can mean the difference between an enjoyable soak and a maddening one.

The spring: stone, steam, and solitude

The hot spring itself remains undeveloped. Natural rock formations have been arranged over decades of patient modification by anonymous soakists into pools that hold geothermally heated water. No pumps, no pipes, no chlorine, no changing rooms, no reservation system. What exists is what the earth provides: mineral-rich water rising from deep rock fissures, cooling to a temperature that human bodies find welcoming, and collecting in stone basins carved by both geology and intention.

The exact water temperature varies by pool and by season, but users report comfortable soaking temperatures in the range of 100 to 106 degrees Fahrenheit. This is not the scalding immersion of some thermal features. It is warmth that invites prolonged submersion, the kind that loosens tight shoulders and eases the ache of long hikes. The mineral content, primarily silica and trace sulfur compounds, leaves a faint residue on skin and creates a subtle earthy scent that dissipates within hours of leaving the water.

The setting amplifies the experience. Mist rises from the pools and mingles with the forest canopy. The sounds are entirely natural: wind through spruce boughs, the distant rush of an unnamed creek, and in the silence between these noises, the profound quiet that only true wilderness provides. A soak at Shelokum is not a spa treatment. It is communion with a landscape that does not arrange itself for human comfort.

Practical considerations for the modern soaker

Despite its remoteness, Shelokum receives regular visitation. The Ketchikan outdoor community has maintained the trail out of collective self-interest, and a wooden platform over the largest pool prevents silt from turning every soak into a mud bath. That said, visitors should bring a sense of adaptability. Improving a natural hot spring often means destroying what makes it special, and Shelokum's charm lies precisely in its unfinished quality.

Pack out everything you carry in. The spring sits within the Tongass National Forest, where the U.S. Forest Service manages lands with a light hand, providing no services beyond trailhead signage. There are no restrooms at the spring, no trash receptacles, no staff to contact if problems arise. This is Leave No Trace territory in the truest sense: you are responsible for your own impact.

Cell phone service does not exist in this part of the Tongass. This is not a liability. It is a feature. The isolation that makes Shelokum challenging to reach also makes it a place where the modern world releases its grip. Tell someone your plans before you go, carry basic first aid supplies, and understand that rescue, if needed, will take time.

Why this place matters

Southeast Alaska contains dozens of known hot springs, but relatively few offer the combination of accessibility and isolation that Shelokum provides. Many require boat access, floatplane charters, or multi-day hiking expeditions. The 2.2-mile trail to Shelokum makes it reachable for day visitors willing to invest half a day in the journey, yet the setting feels no less wild than springs accessible only by bush plane.

The Tongass National Forest represents one of the largest intact temperate rainforests remaining on Earth. Protecting this ecosystem has been the subject of ongoing conservation debates, with logging interests and wilderness advocates competing for how these lands should be managed. Places like Shelokum exist within this larger context. They are reminders that some landscapes hold value beyond commercial extraction, that humans have always sought out thermal waters for healing and renewal, and that the right to experience wild places remains worth defending.

Summer remains the optimal season for visiting, both for trail conditions and for the extended daylight hours that Southeast Alaska receives. July and August offer nearly 18 hours of daylight, making it possible to soak at midnight if the spirit moves you. Winter visits are possible but add significant challenge: the trail becomes slick with ice, daylight hours shrink to fewer than seven, and hypothermia risk increases for anyone who lingers too long in wet clothing between hot and cold exposures.

The invitation

Shelokum Hot Springs asks something of its visitors. It demands a hike through mud and mist, a tolerance for insects, an acceptance of primitive conditions, and a willingness to carry responsibility for your own safety. In return, it offers something increasingly rare: the opportunity to sit in hot water in a wild place, watching the forest breathe, and remembering that comfort can be found in the most demanding landscapes if we simply commit to reaching it.

The spring will be there when you arrive, steaming quietly in the rain, unchanged by the expectations we bring to it. Whether you come seeking relief from sore muscles, solitude from crowded modern life, or simply the satisfaction of reaching a place that asks nothing except that you respect it, Shelokum delivers.