Rewards: Some Like It Muddy

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The mud smells earthy, loamy with a hint of sulfur, but by no means overpowering. In addition to earth and ash, a major component in the mix is peat moss, which lends a delightfully squishy feeling. It’s extraordinary, really. I’d expected to play out the quicksand scene from “Lawrence of Arabia” but instead, I am quite suspended in the stuff. Once I get used to the sensation, I attempt more dramatic reenactments, such as the scene at the end of “Carrie” where she reaches out from the grave. I consider performing the jail break scene from “Raising Arizona” but I’m not so committed to it that I am willing to dunk my whole head. I just imagine it and smile.

Beware the Hot Bottom

After about five minutes, I start to realize just how hot this stuff is. The heat is not evenly distributed. It comes from the bottom and soon creeps up on you. As I settle in, a good sweat starts. After five minutes, Jerry gives me an ice-cold towel and a cup of water with a bendy straw. By the time another five minutes has gone by, I am nearly overheated and ready to move on to the next stage of the program.

But first I must shed the mud. I slough what I can back into the tub. Because of the mess, the shower is located just a few feet from the tub. Again, this is not an outing for the timid. I reticently hose myself down while the attendant hoses down the adjacent bath area. After washing off the same body parts repeatedly, I realize the necessity of a top-down plus detachable showerhead method.

More or less cleansed, I am led to a whirlpool tub filled with mineral-loaded spring water. Relaxing salts, like Jamba Juice boosters, are a free addition. The Newsweek I’d brought hadn’t really been an option in the mud bath, but for the next 15 minutes, I get my political fix and a good hot soak. By the end, I am again really feeling the heat, and it is good to cool off before taking a third dose of broiling in the sauna. There, an occasional jet of steam hisses from under the wood seats, and a galaxy of droplets hang from the ceiling, plopping down one at a time like hot lazy tropical rain.

It turns out that the “blanket wrap” is simply a curtained bunk to lie on while my body cools off. I lay there for at least 15 minutes while my sweat glands and pounding heart recover. When metabolic calm returns, I take to the locker room for one final shower — cold. I don’t know if all those minerals make me any healthier, but I sure feel relaxed and really ready for an extremely cold beer.

Calistoga Spa Hot Springs
1006 Washington Street, Calistoga, Calif.
(707) 942-6269

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