Up to my chin in 105 degree water,  suphur pricked my nostrils as I bobbed in velvety fluid.  I felt as if I had returned to childhood when play and exploration were the focus of my days. My flip flops slapped the wooden deck as I padded from the mineral baths to an Adirondack chair to bask in the sun. Heaven!

Billed as “a sanctuary for the self,” Wilbur Hot Springs is that – and much more. Nestled in a secluded valley of the California Coastal Range on the banks of a sulphur creek, this healing spa has been welcoming visitors since the 1860s. After two days of soaking in the hot mineral pools, hiking in the lush valleys and meadows, and cooking in Wilbur’s amazing communal kitchen I returned to Oakland more relaxed than I could have imagined.

View from the hill above Wilbur Hot Springs

I unplugged completely. No TV, no computer, no cell phone, and no obligations.  Like most humans in the developed world, I spend way too much time in front of screens. I believe this literally narrows my view of the world. Watching the constellations wheel across the night sky, coming face to face with a deer and her fawn, gazing at a hillside studded with brilliant blue lupine, wandering along the creek bed as it wound through the meadow – all this, and hot pools too!

But the kitchen – oh my heavens – a communal mish mash of gourmands and inveterate snackers eddying around admiring each other’s eats. Picture an old farm kitchen with a massive stove and a huge hanging pot rack and every kitchen tool immaginable, except a microwave or a toaster. Now picture it filled with people in bathrobes, sarongs, sweatpants – and even one guy in a kilt – all cooking up a storm. The smells could knock you to your knees. One guy produced a gorgeous plate of tapas and then proceeded to cook pork loin in apple and onions. People were in there roasting chickens and whipping up risotto – it was as far from summer camp as you could get – even though the coreographed chaos was remarkably similar. Miraculously, we danced around each other, but there were no collisions.

I owe this experience to my dear friend Karen Hester who suggested we go and kindly made the reservation. Karen is my “go to” pal for all varieties of fun from ping-pong matches to long hikes to spur of the moment concert tickets. A community organizer and event planner, Karen not only knows how to have a good time, she knows how to relax. I was more than happy to follow in Karen’s wake, although I confess when she went out birdwatching at 8 o’clock on Saturday morning, I opted for tea and toast instead.

This morning was overcast so Karen and I sat in front of the oil heater and played scrabble, filling the board with neat stacks of letters – plenty of the double and tripple score variety. Karen whupped my behind, as usual, while giving me kudos for my best word play – “quieted” being one, since using a Q is a major achievement on a lazy Sunday morning.

Karen and Eleanor at Wilbur Hot Springs

We played and chatted and watched people breakfast on waffles and scrambled eggs. One guy from Calgary – I swear this is true – spent 45 minutes cutting up fruit. He sliced strawberries with slow precision, and then pitted and sliced cherries, topping this ballet of fruit with creamy yogurt and granola. When I commented on his creation he explained that he was from Canada where there was still snow on the ground so fresh fruit was a novelty to be savored.

Mellow and soggy, we bundled into the car at 2:30 this afternoon and began our journey home, singing along to Kate Wolf and Laura Nyro so that the green hillsides whizzed by. Suddenly, we were crossing the Carquinez bridge and the refineries in Richmond came into view. But in my mind’s eye, I could picture the Japanese style gate leading into the hot pools, and my skin still smelled of sulphur. Even at 70 miles per hour, my body clock was set to s-l-o-w.

Gate leading to hot pools

5 Comments

  1. Lisa Matovich Brooke

    I know that this is off topic of your blog but I just read Swimming with Maya and the book helped me so much. I lost my twenty month old son to a drowning accident and we also donated some of his organs. Your memoir of a mom actually moving through the grief process was very enlightening. Your Maya was such a beautiful, ray of sunshine and you portrayed her beautifully in your book. You have a wonderful way with words.

    • Eleanor Vincent

      Lisa – I am so very sorry for your loss. It’s not “off topic” – ever – to discuss something so close to both of our hearts. I haven’t posted in a long time. I am so glad to know that the book was helpful for you. You are inspiring me to get blogging again. I just returned from a writing workshop where I had the opportunity to write every day in a supportive environment. It was a fabulous gift. Thank you for your comment. I wish you well in your journey of recovery. My thoughts are with you and your family.

  2. dkzody

    The Canadian with the fruit was most amusing. I work with a woman who just spent Labor Day weekend in Yosemite with someone who must do things just as slowly and precisely as this gentleman. It drove her crazy. We laugh when New Yorkers call us Californians slow, there are other places that go even slooooooower.

  3. michael at wilbur

    I *loved* this! Lyrical and fun, it is always a treat and honor to read through the thoughts of our guests, and our friends. I truly appreciate you sharing with your friends and family, and cannot explain how much it means to us! These words will reverbrate through the walls of the net for years, possibly decades, to come. We can attribute future guests and interest to you, and you have no idea how meaningful that is!!! Thank you so much! I hope this finds you well! Cheers, and thank you so much!

    Sincerely,
    Michael at Wilbur

    • Eleanor Vincent

      Michael – thanks for the lovely comments on this post. I hope to be back soaking again very soon!

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