In the Sierra, Hot Springs Full of Surprises

I learned about the vegetarian, clothing-optional Sierra Hot Springs retreat north of Truckee from my rabbi. The friend who told her about it failed to mention the nudity part, but I can’t say the rabbi didn’t warn me.

I was seven months pregnant, and a weightless soak in natural hot springs beckoned. Pregnant women are advised to avoid torrid Jacuzzis and the like, but one of Sierra Hot Springs’ pools was tepid enough for a safe soak. For my husband, Ross, and me, this escape was probably our last without a car seat and diaper bag for some time, so going a little bohemian seemed appropriate.

Sierra Hot Springs is a funky resort (think water yoga, meditation and a workshop titled “Intuitive Journeys With Andre”) at the edge of Tahoe National Forest, about 60 miles west of the Reno airport. It’s operated by a nonprofit group called the New Age Church of Being but is better known as the sister property of Harbin Hot Springs, the longtime popular retreat near Napa Valley. Membership bought at one property ($5 per month, $20 per year) allows a couple admission to both.

We set out one Friday afternoon a few weeks ago, stopping to eat in Truckee after it became apparent that we wouldn’t arrive in time for Sierra Hot Springs’ dinner buffet. A swashbuckling railroad town at the entrance to the national forest, Truckee feels like the set of a western movie, though the cooks here seem to offer as much foie gras as chicken fried steak. We scrutinized every restaurant on Commercial Row, the town’s main street, before choosing Moody’s Bistro & Lounge in the Truckee Hotel.

Moody’s opened in July. It has a lively bar, a hip interior and a brick patio, which we chose over the more formal-looking dining room. I had a delicious appetizer of bleu cheese, figs and crostini drizzled with a port syrup. My entree was perfectly seared escolar over sun-dried tomato risotto. The whole thing was sprinkled with black olive tapenade.

Ross started with curried carrot soup. Fully aware that his next meals at Sierra Hot Springs would be vegetarian--and possibly laced with tofu--he soothed his carnivorous spirit with steak frites. It was a 12-ounce New York steak with bearnaise and bordelaise sauces, and it came with excellent herbed French fries. With a glass of wine for Ross, the bill came to $65.80 plus tip--slightly less than our next four meals combined.

We arrived at Sierra Hot Springs after dark. The resort’s accommodations include a lodge and the Globe Hotel in the center of Sierraville, about four minutes away.

The lodge has a nice lawn and an ample front porch with comfortable lounge chairs and wobbly tables. Inside are five private rooms, a dormitory-style room that sleeps four on mattresses lined up across the floor ($44 per person on weekends) and shared bathrooms. Decor is attic chic with earth-mother touches. The building also has an airy wood-paneled lounge, a communal kitchen, a TV room and space used for meetings and yoga sessions.

Our room was in the 10-room Globe Hotel, a clean, cheery, two-story place with a wraparound porch. There are goddess murals on the staircase and wild red-and-yellow Venetian carpet in the halls.

The word “hotel” is used loosely. Our room ($99 a night, no tax) had a queen bed with floral sheets, an armoire, a little shelf and two towels. For everything else, including toiletries, we were on our own.

Out in the hall, headed for one of the shared bathrooms, I encountered my first naked people. They were a couple on their way from the steam room to a shower. I just wanted to brush my teeth, and the whole scene was a little more intimate than I had expected. I would soon learn that much about Sierra Hot Springs is more intimate than I had expected.

Saturday we woke up in time to return to the lodge for a satisfying continental breakfast: organic yogurt, fruit, cereal, bagels and delicious fresh-baked, organic whole-wheat apple croissants. As we ate on the porch, we got a first good look at the peaceful surroundings. Abutting the forest, the front of the lodge overlooks a grassy valley that was dusty yellow in the September sun. In the near distance, cows moved languorously across pastures. If the actors of “Little House on the Prairie” had ambled by in a covered wagon, they would not have looked out of place.

We hustled off to a water yoga class--at 9:15, already the second session of the day. Several water yoga classes are offered on the weekends at no additional charge, as is one hatha yoga class on land.

Guests have four ways to partake of the resort’s namesake hot springs. Three of the facilities feature natural, unregulated spring water with no disinfectants and no filtration system, though the tubs and pools are cleaned regularly. All have adjacent showers.

The smell of sulfur and other minerals is strong but seems to fade after a few minutes, and the waters feel remarkably silky. Except for the Warm Pool, which is close to body temperature, the waters are a sultry 104 degrees or so.

The steamiest is the Hot Pool in the Temple Dome, a gleaming copper geodesic structure with skylights, stained glass and a stone sculpture resembling Buddha. Also inside the dome are two cold plunge tubs.

The somewhat rickety Phoenix Baths are in private wood-paneled rooms. They are small, deep tubs flowing with constantly running hot spring water. To use the tubs, visitors merely plug the drain and let the tub fill.

By far the prettiest of the pools is the Medicine Bath, an outdoor oasis in the trees. It’s a small sand-bottom pool surrounded by rocks and grass, with a pretty fountain and a delicate gazebo nearby for shade. Here we stumbled upon a quiet man wearing nothing but a straw hat. He was painting a watercolor in the morning sun.

Water yoga is in the Warm Pool. It looks like a conventional swimming pool, and the natural hot-spring water is filtered and treated with a bromine disinfectant. I was thankful that the pool had a canvas canopy and was mostly shaded.

When we reported for class, half a dozen guests were in the water. Other folks were reading, meditating or doing their own yoga regimens on the deck. Much to our surprise, our bathing suits were the only apparel in sight. Here “clothing optional” is the exact opposite of “black tie optional.” In the latter, you are the odd bird if you don’t wear a tux. Here, you stick out if you wear anything.

Charles, the water-yoga instructor, is an ageless, hairless, patient man with a soothing voice and no tan lines. He said he’s one of about 20 people in the country trained in this method of water yoga. “If you think this next stretch is difficult,” he joked repeatedly, “try it out there on the deck.”

We stretched and twisted into various positions for the better part of an hour, and soon our bodies were sapped of energy. It was only 10:30, but Ross and I were pooped.

At the lodge we found two cushiony lounge chairs on the front porch and settled in with books. Giant dragonflies circled lazily overhead. The cows grazed across the valley. I read three pages before tumbling into an indolent sleep.

At Sierra Hot Springs, it’s luxuriously easy to do nothing. The hot waters, the resort’s raison d’etre, held little allure after our morning immersion. Even had I not been pregnant, I think the other hot springs, like most Jacuzzis, would have been too hot for us to soak in comfortably for more than 10 minutes, though some guests lingered happily for hours.

I booked a massage for later in the day, and we returned to Sierraville’s downtown, if it can be called that, for lunch. The town has a pizza place, two diners and a cafe with espresso and croissants. We had eggs and hash browns at the Stagecoach Steakhouse, a friendly place where Saturday cartoons were playing above the bar.

We spent the rest of the afternoon on gentle hikes along the property’s wooded outskirts, meandering among the pine trees on roads maintained by the National Forest Service. Serious trails were only a half-hour drive away, but the walk here suited us fine.

My 5 p.m. massage with a therapist named Jenna was a highlight of the day. Treatments are $60 for an hour, $80 for 90 minutes. For the same price, you can get an “Alpine Watsu” treatment, which is described as “a co-mingling of Zen shiatsu, range of motion and stretching, all applied while floating in a warm pool of water.”

My massage, in a sunny upstairs lodge room, was nurturing and professional. Not that I had been in the least bit stressed to begin with, but I emerged feeling even more peaceful and relaxed.

The lodge serves a $12 vegetarian buffet at 6:30 nightly. That particular evening, it followed an Asian theme: miso soup, sauteed greens, edamame (fresh soybeans) and two salads, one green and one seaweed. The main dish was brown rice or noodles topped with coconut curry vegetables. All of the food tasted wholesome and delicious, although the home-baked strawberry shortcake offered for dessert was so hard it bent Ross’ fork.

We brought our plates to our favorite spot on the porch and ate while the hills changed color and then faded into the darkening valley. Later we played an intense game of Scrabble on the porch. It was by far the most rigorous exercise of the day.

Before turning in for the night, we used our flashlight to reach a little wooden deck by the Medicine Bath to gawk at the heavens. Two girls and their grandparents were playing quietly in the pool. The night sky was cloudless and overwhelming with stars. We stared until our eyes grew heavy. The day had been long and decadently slow, and we were asleep by 10 p.m.

*

Budget for Two

Round-trip air fare,

LAX-Reno...$193.00

Sierra Hot Springs

membership, one month 5.00

Globe Hotel,

two nights...198.00

Massage, with tip...70.00

Dinner, Moody’s...75.80

Breakfast and dinner,

Sierra Hot Springs...38.00

Lunch, Stagecoach...16.69

Other meal...17.60

Car rental, two days...57.98

Gas...25.00

FINAL TAB...$697.07

Sierra Hot Springs, P.O. Box 366, Sierraville, CA 96126; (530) 994-3773, www.sierrahotsprings.org.