Fairmont Hot Springs Resort

The story

Long before hot tubs were plugged into concrete patios, Indigenous tribes—including the Flathead, Nez Perce, and Shoshone—pitched tepees near these twelve natural thermal springs, calling the mineral-rich waters Medicine Waters. In 1869, brothers George and Eli Gregson bought the spring rights from a squatter named Hulbert for sixty dollars. The Gregson brothers built a two-story hotel and bathhouses plumbed with hot water flumes, branding the site Gregson Hot Springs. For decades, passenger trains on the Butte, Anaconda & Pacific Railway ferried copper miners and smelter workers out here to soak away underground stiffness, drink, and occasionally ignite sprawling 14,000-person riots during union picnics.

Fires destroyed the early resort facilities, ownership shuffled through the decades, and by 1971 the old Gregson site sat in disrepair. Rebuilt and rebranded as Fairmont Hot Springs Resort in the early 1970s, the property transformed into a massive geothermal enclave 15 miles west of Butte. Deep artesian wells push up 155-degree water, which gets channeled into two Olympic-sized swimming pools and two mineral soaking pools—split between indoors and out—plus a 350-foot enclosed five-story waterslide that shoots riders right into the outdoor pool year-round.

The real trick here isn't the resort amenity list—it's timing. While daytime brings crowds and family splash-zones, the late hours deliver something far stranger and quieter. Because the water contains virtually no sulfur, you don't get the rotten-egg stench typical of western mineral springs. Instead, you get pure geothermal steam floating toward the pitch-black Pintler Mountains, with the dark Montana sky framing constellations overhead while you float in 104-degree water.