Friday, January 28, 2005

I Bathe in Hot Brownie Batter

Napa Valley, California. Ever been there? It's about 2 hours north of my house. Lucky stiff that I am.

All those spas. And restaurants. And vineyards. And wineries. And little shops. And idyllic verdant rolling hills shrouded in fog. It's the west coast's answer to Vermont.

Most people go to Napa Valley for the wine. I go there for the mud.

North of Napa, there's a little town called
Calistoga. The town is built on volcanic ash, and hot spring water courses below the surface. Some of the springs are tapped and bottled (Calistoga Water, duh). And some are capped and controlled for the spas. Imagine -- swimming pools brimming with hot mineral water, straight from the source. You can't get much better than that.
But, like I said, I go there for the mud. I pay about $130 to bathe in it.

My favorite spa,
Indian Springs, has existed since the late 1800s. The spa's facilities date from the 1920s and are kept in impeccable condition, complete with white walls and white gauze curtains. When you veer your car from Highway 29 onto the Indian Springs property, you enter a time warp. You are on spa time. You enter the reception area and get a contact high from the scented oils and New Age music. And suddenly, nothing else matters.

Like so many spas in Calistoga, Indian Springs specializes in mud baths. A mud bath is like licorice: either you love it or you hate it. Imagine floating in an oNo, that's not me. Image courtesy of Indian Springs Spa.versized tub of heavy hot brownie batter (which smells more like wet earth than chocolate). That's what an Indian Springs mud bath feels like. You are the Creature of the Black Lagoon. Other spas mix their mud with peet, and their mud baths feel like hot black oatmeal. I should know; I've tried them all over the years. I prefer the brownie batter.

Indian Springs keeps it simple: just volcanic ash and hot mineral water. It's the most penetrating relaxing heat you've ever felt. Within five minutes, every single muscle in your body releases. By the time your 15 minutes are up, there isn't a tense bone in your body. Then you proceed to the hot mineral water bath. And then the eucalyptus steam room. And then the massage, where you drool copiously and tend to forget your own name. Eventually you stagger back to the locker room, where you change into your swimsuit and while away the afternoon floating on styrofoam noodles in an olympic-sized swimming pool of 101-degree natural mineral water. At this point, your mind is a total blank. It's like that machine in that early Star Trek episode that empties your brain -- but in a good way. What, me worry? That's what I call getting away for the weekend.

Of course, doing this means parading around naked a lot. (Men and women are segregated, sorry to dash your hopes -- unless you're gay, in which case...) If being naked and muddy in front of others isn't your thing, you may be uncomfortable. After popping out two kids, nothing bothers me anymore. That, and the fact that I'm not fat. But then again, I haven't been modest since I was 15 and virginal.

When you have regained your senses and finally leave Indian Springs, you can drop wads of cash at any number of overpriced renowned restaurants, or have a cheap killer burger in St. Helena at
Taylor's Refresher. If you're really feeling indulgent, inhale a very large home-made Ding Dong from Palisades Market in Calistoga. They're $5 each, but wow, that's one hellafva rama lama ding dong filled with fluffy freshly whipped cream. It's worth all those calories. That ding dong will really ring your bell. I think I've used up all the puns for that bit, so I'll move on now.

If you're into exercise, there are several nice gyms between Napa and Calistoga. Some are attached to the spas and offer free workouts with any spa service. My favorite venue in this category is the
Health Spa Napa Valley in St. Helena. It's a fairly new upscale facility with a nice gym featuring all the requisite equipment: elliptical steppers, regular and recumbent bikes, exercise balls and resistance bands, free weights, and weight machines. Call me a glutton for punishment: I like to plan an entire morning there. I spend a couple of hours working out, and then get rewarded with a hot stone massage and an herbal blanket wrap. Then when I drop $50 on an indulgent late lunch at Tra Vigne, I don't feel so guilty. After all, I earned it, dammit.

Does bathing in mud sound icky to you? OK, well it is icky. They wash the mud with 140-degree mineral water between customers. Which, they assure me, kills all the germs. Uh-huh. Well, in 10 years of going to mud baths in Calistoga, I've never developed a flesh-eating disease or even a curious infection. So maybe they're right. Truthfully, I'd rather not think about it; it spoils the experience.

Can't get to Napa Valley any time soon? Here's the home version: just whip up 50 boxes of brownie batter, nuke it, and slide it into your tub. It'll smell wrong, but believe me, it'll feel so damn good.

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