The Spa Solution : Relief for the stressed-out, from low-cost to luxury : Calistoga Mud Treatment Mixes Ooze and <i> Ahhs</i>

“Is this your first mud?” asked the white-coated attendant at Dr. Wilkenson’s Hot Springs. I had come to soak in the goo of good health, and Doc Wilkenson’s is a traditional favorite in Calistoga--California’s mud-central.

Thousands of people annually flock to this tiny town, bound for mud baths at the nine rugged spas that occupy squat clapboard buildings on and around Lincoln Avenue, the main street.

The mud is not just any muck, mind you, but a gritty combination of volcanic ash, clay, peat moss and mineral water heated to a steamy 104 degrees by underground pipes.

The mud-bath process is supposed to deep-clean the pores and soothe away muscular aches--a sort of dermal detox. For this you pay about $60, excluding tips. And you get a good, hard half-hour massage in the bargain.

Health seekers worldwide swear by mud therapy, and many of them come to Calistoga, but we’re not talking glamour here.

Bubbling with deep brown glump, Dr. Wilkenson’s two tubs sat unceremoniously in a stark cinder-block room that also held two mineral whirlpool tubs, a shower, a small redwood sauna chamber and a large round wall clock that looked like a prop from a Hitchcock movie. You know, the camera zooms in on the thick black hands slowly jerking past giant numbers; the tick-tock grows louder, flash to a pair of terrified female eyes and then . . . a scream!

The tub next to mine was occupied by a woman’s head (I assumed, but couldn’t swear, that her body was attached) with thick mud up to the chin. Her hair was wrapped in a white terry towel, her face smeared with ash (good for the complexion). Every now and then she uttered a long, deep aahhhhhh .

An attendant took my glasses (no doubt so I wouldn’t see what was happening to me), had me shower quickly so I wouldn’t track dirt into the mud, then ushered me to a tub.

You don’t step into the mud. Since the mud is heated from below, the bottom of the tub is too hot and would burn the soles off your feet. Rather you sit on a wooden sideboard alongside your tub and slide onto it. And I do mean onto , not into.

My mud was so thick that in order to cover me, the attendant had to dig her hands deep into the muck around me and stack globs on top of me until everything but my head was submerged.

Then she left me to cook for 18 minutes.

Within seconds I felt--how to express it?--asphyxia.

The heat, the confinement, the smell--I told myself this was good for me, but my self yelled back: get me out of here!

I compromised and lifted my hands and feet out of the goo, and the cool air of the room relieved some of the claustrophobia, as did the cool wet washcloth that the attendant periodically draped over my forehead.

I tried to amuse myself by squishing the goo between my toes and fingers. I tried not to watch the clock ticking slowly on the wall.

Then, blessedly, I was told to lift myself back on the sideboard and out of the tub. I scooped what mud I could off my body; more slid off as I stood. The rest I rinsed off under the shower. But owing to the mud’s griminess and its adherence to the body’s curves and crevices, rinsing off isn’t so easy.

Then I soaked another 12 minutes in the hot whirlpool tub; the water’s movement made me seasick. Another half-hour was allotted for a sit in the sauna, but after five minutes I couldn’t take the heat and pronounced myself done.

Alma, my masseuse, escorted me to a small cubbyhole where I was wrapped in an herb-soaked towel and left to cool for 20 minutes. Then she gave me a long, deep massage that made me forget everything unpleasant that had happened to me--ever.

Alas, Dr. Wilkenson’s lacked the pastel walls and muted flute music of the Sonoma Mission Inn, the cushy spa where, a week before, I had spent my first night in Northern California.

Lights glared overhead and, unlike my Sonoma Mission masseuse, who breathed deeply and spoke in a tinkling voice of mellow oneness with the universe, Alma spoke of her grandfather’s rotten new wife who didn’t like her because she was fat, and how her lesbian neighbor voted Republican because she hated herself.

But Alma’s hands made up for her mouth and by the time I left Dr. Wilkenson’s an hour later, all the residual aches from my previous days’ bike trip were gone and my body felt like fluid rubber.

The following day I tried a new fangled enzyme bath treatment at the slightly snazzier Roman International Spa off Lincoln on Washington Street. Instead of slipping into mud, I was buried in a hot, dry mixture of herbs and woodchips--heavenly for a hamster, perhaps, but all itches and scratches from my vantage point.

The smell--sort of eau de manure with an herb chaser--didn’t help any, nor did the feel of the dustpan brush that the attendant used to clean me off when it was finally time to move on to a shower and massage. The tab: $56, including a half-hour massage.

After it was all over, I did feel relaxed--but the next day I woke up with a cold. I don’t blame the enzymes or the peat baths. Why sling mud? But from now on I’ll stick to Mr. Bubble.

GUIDEBOOK: Calistoga Mud Baths

Calistoga baths: Calistoga is chock-full of mud baths. Prices vary at each spa, but on average, a mud bath with a half-hour massage runs $50-$60, excluding tips. All the spas listed below also have rustic accommodations, except Lincoln Avenue Spa.

--Dr. Wilkenson’s Hot Springs, 1507 Lincoln Ave., telephone (707) 942-4102.

--Roman International Spa, 1300 Washington St., (707) 942-6122.

--Calistoga Spa, 1006 Washington St., (707) 942-6269.

--Golden Haven Spa 1713 Lake St., (707) 942-6793.

--Indian Springs, 1712 Lincoln Ave., (707) 942-4913.

--The Calistoga Village Inn and Spa, 1880 Lincoln Ave., (707) 942-4936.

--Lincoln Avenue Spa, 1339 Lincoln Ave., (707) 942-5296.

--Nance’s Hot Springs, 1614 Lincoln Ave., (707) 942-6211.

--Pine Street Inn/Euro Spa, 1202 Pine St., (707) 942-6829.

Other attractions: Calistoga’s Mount View Hotel has good Sunday afternoon jazz.

The top restaurant in town is the Calistoga Inn, which also has B&B; accommodations. The young staff is friendly, and the fish dishes are prepared simply but well.

Calistoga is a good base for exploring several nearby wineries. The most fun is Sterling Vineyards, 1111 Dunaweal Lane, (707) 942-5151, which has an aerial tramway that takes visitors up a hill to the Greek monastery-style winery.

Napa is only an hour’s drive south. Along the way you’ll pass some of the state’s most famous wineries, among them Mondavi, Beaulieu, Shramsberg, Grgich Hills, Beringer and Domaine Chandon.

For more information: Contact the Calistoga Chamber of Commerce, 1458 Lincoln Ave., Calistoga, Calif. 94515, (707) 942-6333.