New York Times
California Hot Springs for Any Body

Published: November 9, 2007

A guest at Wilbur Hot Springs in Northern California heads for a cold plunge pool after soaking in hot mineral water.

By GREGORY DICUM

JEANRIC held my gaze in his, smiling softly. “Close your eyes,” he whispered in a gentle French accent, “and relax.”

He took me in his muscular arms, cradling my shoulders from behind as my feet left the bottom of the pool. My naked body swirled through the warm water of a hot spring until I had the distinctly expansive feeling of tumbling across the star-strewn Milky Way.

The promise of ecstatic moments — whether from body treatments or just the soothing nature of the waters — has drawn visitors to Northern California’s natural hot springs since people first discovered them thousands of years ago. The West Coast’s seismic activity provides plenty of opportunities for water to seep deep underground, where it is heated and mineralized before re-emerging, transformed and imbued with seemingly magical properties.

In the latter part of the 19th century, as San Francisco blossomed, the hot springs sprinkled through the Coast Range north of San Francisco Bay — many of which had long been revered by native inhabitants — became popular resorts. Some have been forgotten, but others remain, adhering to the classic formula: a small spa hotel arranged like a campus around the natural spring.

Sampling some of them last spring with my wife, Nina, I found that each has a distinctive flavor, offering visitors different tastes of California rejuvenation.

Wilbur Hot Springs

... Wilbur Hot Springs, a more remote resort established in 1865 at the edge of a bubbling, seething field of springs on the 1,800-acre site of a former silver mine. A gravel road leads through the mountains to the west of the Central Valley up a narrow canyon in Colusa County. Solar panels mushroom on the hill above the big, rough-sawn wooden lodge out of necessity, with eco-chic a happy side effect. There is just one pay phone, and neither cellphone service nor locks on the doors.

In the pools, perched above a stony-bedded stream, we soaked under a shady roof, gazing across the valley at brawny live oaks studding golden hills.
The sharp smell of sulfur grew alluring as we came to associate it with the velvety feeling of the waters. It mingled with the scent of sun-baked grasses like some airy ptisane. A doe and her twin fawns strolled by as we moved into the cooling waters of the swimming pool.

The vibe at Wilbur is friendly and casual: everyone is clearly there for deep and probably well-deserved relaxation. Guests prepare their own meals in a big, well-appointed kitchen ­ the most bustling spot in the otherwise serene grounds ­ then spread out through the lodge, or sit under a grape arbor.

After a light dinner of fresh gnocchi, a green salad and rosé, Nina and I sat by the fireplace strumming a guitar and chatting with other guests.
Then we went out into the black night, to take the waters one more time.

I lay back in the open-air hot bath, watching the blue glow of the swimming pool quicken the long gray needles of the pines arching overhead. The afternoon’s bird song had given way to the hum of frogs and crickets. I tipped my head back into the ancient water, and far, far beyond the pines, the Milky Way rioted in the profundity of space, a visible, spangled echo of the water’s rich gurgle.

VISITOR INFORMATION

...

Wilbur Hot Springs (3375 Wilbur Springs Road, Williams; 530-473-2306; www.wilburhotsprings.com) has accommodations from camping for $56 a night to an apartment for $275; rates include use of the baths, where clothing is optional. Guests can use the resort’s kitchen. Swedish massage starts at $80.

SF Chronicle
Thursday Travel Feature

June 23, 2005 - ( view pdf )

This brand-new promotion offers one night free with every two nights paid. There are no restrictions on this offer: “Lazy Days of Summer” is available during weekends and holidays, including the Fourth of July, for those who prefer a peaceful respite from the holiday fanfare and fireworks. Prices for accommodations in private rooms begin at $150 per night, double occupancy. Guests at Wilbur Hot Springs value the soothing mineral waters and more – the hotel’s unique and rustic charm, the area’s solitude and serenity, occasions to reconnect with nature and enjoyable recreational activities offered at the resort’s private 1800-acre preserve. For those who love summer, Wilbur Hot Springs is ideal for enjoying Northern California’s dry heat and low humidity.
When evening comes, the region’s cooler nights and clear skies make Wilbur’s therapeutic hot mineral waters and refreshing swimming pool the perfect place to soak away stress, stargaze and appreciate the country’s peace and quiet, far from any city’s maddening crowd. For centuries, Wilbur’s therapeutic waters have been known to heal the body and sooth the soul – from European settlers of the 1800s and Native American inhabitants long before that to today’s guests who return time and again for the rejuvenation and well-being the hot springs provide. Sheltered by a Fluminarium, the mineral waters flow into three long channels with average temperatures ranging from 98-109 degrees Fahrenheit.

In the tradition of Japanese Flumes, clothing is optional in the bathing area (although clothing is required everywhere else on the property). The Fluminarium is completely private. Open day and night to guests, the Fluminarium is a serene haven where courtesy and modesty prevail. In contrast to the hot waters of the Fluminarium, just steps away is a large, cool-water mineral pool with splendid vistas of the surrounding hills of green and gold – a great summer spot for reading, refreshing and relaxing. An outdoor hot mineral sitting pool and a dry sauna complete the secluded bathing area. While soaking in the Fluminarium is a favorite pastime for many guests, more active visitors will be pleased as well.

On the weekends, guests can start their day with complimentary yoga on the Yoga Deck, where trained instructors offer various types of yoga for all experience levels. Hiking is popular in Wilbur’s own 1,800-acre nature preserve. Guests can also sightsee in nearby Bear Valley, where high meadows, breathtaking valleys and ridges, and remnants of century-old gold-mining operations are found. Bird-watchers are rewarded year-round; recent sightings include bald eagles, Great Blue Herons, Pileated Woodpeckers, Belted Kingfishers, Goldfinches, Bluebirds and a variety of hawks, including Red Tails, Northern Harriers and American Kestrels.

Visitors who want to cover more ground enjoy mountain biking on the complimentary bikes offered by Wilbur for guests’ use. Wilder adventure such as river rafting, can be found in nearby Cache Creek Canyon or perhaps within 30 minutes’ drive at the nearby casino. To soothe weary muscles or pamper one’s spirit, Wilbur offers massage treatments year-round. Licensed professional therapists are trained in a variety of techniques, including Esalen, Swedish and deep tissue work. Wilbur Hot Springs is a historic spa and resort in Wilbur Springs, Colusa County. The resort is less than three hours northeast of San Francisco and less than two hours north of the Sacramento Airport. For information, call (530) 473-2306 or visit www.wilburhotsprings.com.

[ top ] ________________________________________________________

San Francisco Examiner

Rainy-day cares vaporize steaming pools
Linda Berlin
SPECIALTO THE EXAMINER
San Francisco Examiner
Wilbur Hot Springs: Saunas, massages and tub nirvana

WILLIAMS, Colusa County - Hauling our groceries into the communal kitchen of the historic Victorian, my husband and I realized we had broken a basic rule at Wilbur Hot Springs.

All the other guests were in stocking feet, so I nudged Michael and silently pointed at our shoes. We slinked back to the veranda to take them off. After sorting our food in the communal kitchen and cleaning our mess - no one scolded us - I went to our room on the third floor, while Michael reparked the car in a gravel lot a short walk from the lodge. Wilbur Hot Springs is a rainy-day haven just two hours northwest of Sacramento, tucked into the foothills of Colusa

County. With the exception of our muddy footprints, the lodge was immaculate and the guests were kind. We had arrived with Michael's brother and his wife on a rainy day for a weekend of rest and relaxation. Sulphur Creek, which winds along the property's spring-fed pools, was flowing just 5 feet below the only bridge to the historic lodge.

The small bedroom was comfortable, with a sloped ceiling, wood paneling, double bed and an armoire with a mirror on it. The windows along one side of the room faced Bear Valley, a wilderness area known for its spectacular wildflowers, above a long shelf that provided a perfect writer's desk. Similar to a European lodge, the six bedrooms on the third floor shared two toilet stalls down the hall and two wash basins in a common area. None of the rooms have locks, so you never have to bother with keys.

Short walk, and a soak Short walk, and a soak I had planned to meet Michael at the Fluminarium, but curled up on the bed to read for a while. Ahalf-hour later, we donned terry-cloth bathrobes and walked to the bathing complex across a gravel road from the lodge.

Japanese lanterns lined the carpeted walkway leading to the dry sauna and onto a redwood deck that surrounded the outdoor pool. The smaller, hotter pools were sheltered by an A-framed Fluminarium. Bathing suits are optional, but most people soak naked, so I did the same. I hung my robe on a wooden peg in the A-framed Fluminarium. There were only three other bathers in the pools, their cheeks flushed, each reading a book. I dipped my big toe into each of the three rectangular pools, testing the different temperatures before settling into the coolest 98-degree bath. Stretching out in the silky, pea-green water, I dropped my head back and exhaled a month's worth of tension. One end of the Fluminarium was open to the outdoors, exposing a dense evergreen forest that covered the hill above the springs.

After several minutes immersed in the most temperate pool, I slithered into the middle one, about the temperature of a hot tub.

Outdoor pool

Instead of going in the third pool - a 112-degree boiler - I preferred the oval-shaped, outdoor pool - a comfortable 80 degrees. It felt good to cool off while listening to the rushing creek. After a swim, I reclined on a bench in the sauna until soaked in perspiration, then walked into the hallway, tugged on a rope, and a blast of cold water made my body steam. Afterward, I stepped back into the sauna to roast for a few more minutes. After several rounds of this, I retired to the bed room for a nap.

The springs date back to the 1860s, when Ezekial Wilbur and Edwin T. Howell purchased 640 acres of wilderness to mine copper along Sulphur Creek. When the project failed, Wilbur bought Mr. Howell's stake for $200, built a wood-frame hotel and opened Wilbur Hot Sulphur Springs. The smell of sulfur still emanates from the mineral-rich springs.

The Victorian-style hotel was built in 1915 and still retains some of its old ways. There is no electricity. Instead, propane and solar panels help generate enough energy to run several refrigerators, gas stoves, fireplaces, and lights throughout the lodge. Remnants of a bygone era can be found down the road from the lodge, where abandoned mining shafts are now home to the endangered Townsend's-big-eared bat.

In the 1970s, a psychologist bought the 240-acre valley and restored it to its original Victorian splendor. He added a covered yoga deck that provides a great place to stretch in the shade - especially welcome on summer days, which can be Suites, shared bedrooms Suites, shared bedrooms.

Accommodations at the three-story lodge are as varied as the staircases that wind through it. There are 17 private guest rooms with bathrooms down the hall; one suite with a private bath and kitchen plus three adjoining bedrooms (for small groups); a more modest 11-bed bunk room (ear plugs are recommended); and two campsites, available May through October.

That evening, we gathered with Michael's brother and his wife in the dining room for homemade Thai curry and steamed rice. Guests make their meals in the communal kitchen - equipped with gas stoves and all the tools you need to make a good meal - and eat together in the large dining room, where a lofty ceiling and white-glass chandeliers lend an elegant ambience.

There was no television set or radio. Instead, candles flickered in colored-glass holders on the dining tables. Comfortable couches and reading chairs were arranged near an upright piano. Entertainment takes the form of self-made music or a friendly game of pool. Guests can use several guitars, bamboo flutes and bongos provided by the management.

After dinner, my husband's brother assembled several of us to play some jazz standards. I played piano, and Michael and his brother played guitar. The audience - mostly couples, many from Sonoma County, dressed in sweat pants or bathrobes - applauded after each song.

In the kitchen later, a woman from Sonoma praised the music, and we talked for a while as she chopped vegetables on a long table that doubled as a cutting board. Aregular visitor to the hot springs, Barbara's cheeks were still red from soaking, and she was making a healthy meal for a friend.

Icy, then hot

After a restful sleep, Michael made arrangements for a Swedish massage while I returned to the Fluminarium for another attempt at soaking in the hottest pool. First, I walked to the farthest deck perched over the creek and plugged a sunken tub near a clump of bamboo, where ice-cold spring water runs constantly. I stepped into the frigid bath, held my breath, and dunked myself as goose pimples rippled across my skin. I stayed there for a minute or two.

When my toes turned blue, I splashed out of the tub, making a beeline for the Fluminarium. Without hesitating, I eased myself into the hottest pool as tingles spread through my skin. It was a brief soak, but I had the feeling that if I landed in Hades, I might be able to cope so long as a cool stream ran through it.

[ top ]_____________________________________________________________

LA Times

Rustic Bathing Beauty
The sound of tranquil silence at Wilbur Hot Springs spa

By LINDABERLIN

WILLIAMS, Calif.--In a rustic Fluminarium beside a creek, I dipped my big toe into three rectangular pools, testing the different temperatures before settling into a soothing 98-degree bath.

I took a deep breath and stretched out in the silky pea-green water, dropping my head back and exhaling a month's worth of tension.

One end of the A-frame Fluminarium was open to the outdoors, exposing a dense evergreen forest that covered the hill above the natural hot springs. Wilbur Hot Springs spa is tucked in the foothills of Colusa County, about two hours northwest of Sacramento in a wilderness area known for its spectacular wildflowers.

I had arrived that day with my husband, Michael, his brother, Gary, and his wife, Debra, for a weekend of rest and relaxation. Gary and Michael play guitar and I play piano, so we also hoped to play together.

On the drive up we stopped at the Organic Groceries store in Santa Rosa for supplies for our two-day visit. The reason: There are no restaurants nor grocery stores at Wilbur Hot Springs. So guests bring their own food and prepare meals in the lodge's spacious kitchen. It was early spring, and rainy, and we drove slowly on the winding roads, past lush swaths of green hills and high water.

Built in blissfully quiet Bear Valley, the historic wooden Victorian lodge has a veranda on the first floor where guests remove their shoes before entering. Rustic dormer windows provide views of the hillside from the third-floor guest rooms, and a grand turret sits atop the roof. Staff members live there year-round along with co-managers Richard and Ezzita Davis.

The spa gets its name from Ezekial Wilbur who, with Edwin T. Howell, purchased 640 acres of wilderness along Sulphur Creek in the 1860s to mine copper. That project failed but, in 1864, Wilbur bought Howell's stake for $200, built a wood-frame hotel and announced the opening of Wilbur Hot Sulphur Springs. (Sulphur has since been dropped from the name, but the smell still emanates from the mineral-rich waters.) Its reputation flourished and Wilbur Hot Springs became known for "miraculous cures."

Another owner took over in 1915, removed the old structure and replaced it with a glorious, Victorian-style hotel. That's the structure that exists today, albeit restored by a Tiburon, Calif., psychologist, who bought the 240-acre valley in the 1970s to create a weekend retreat for his clients.

Down the road from the lodge, abandoned mining shafts -- now home to the endangered Townsend's-big-eared bat -- are remnants of copper mining days. The lodge, too, retains its Old World ways. For one thing, there is no electricity. Instead, propane and solar panels help generate enough energy to run several refrigerators, gas stoves, fireplaces and lights. On the first floor, where guests make their meals and mingle in the dining room, the lofty ceiling and white-glass chandeliers provide an elegant ambience. There are no television sets blaring, nor radios. At night, candles on each table flicker in colored-glass holders and entertainment comes in the form of self-made music or a friendly game of pool.

We arrived on a Saturday and hauled our food and drinks into the well-equipped first-floor communal kitchen. Each refrigerator shelf and dry-storage cupboard is assigned to a different room.

Accommodations at Wilbur are as varied as the staircases winding through the three-story lodge. There are 17 private guest rooms with bathrooms down the hall ... one suite with a private bath and kitchen ... plus three adjoining bedrooms ... a more modest 11-bed bunk room... and two campsites ..., open from May to October.

After sorting the food, I went to our room, one of six on the third floor, to change into a robe and sandals. The bedroom was small but comfortable, with a sloped ceiling, wood paneling, double bed and an armoire with a mirror on it. There were windows along one side of the room above a long shelf that provided a perfect writer's desk. We had a view of the winding road into Bear Valley.

Michael and I got into terry cloth robes and walked to the bathing complex across a gravel road from the lodge. The carpeted walkway is lined by Japanese lanterns and leads to a dry sauna and onto a redwood deck that surrounds the outdoor pools. The pools are situated beside a thriving riparian habitat. Bathers can watch the wildlife from the multilevel decks that parallel Sulphur Creek.

Bathing suits are optional here, but most people soak naked, so I did too. After several minutes immersed in the most temperate pool, I slithered into the middle pool, which was several degrees hotter--the temperature of a hot tub, but free of chlorine. Instead of going in the third pool--a 112-degree boiler--I opted for the oval-shaped outdoor pool.

After swimming several laps in the 80-degree pool, I went to the dry sauna and reclined on a bench until I was soaked with perspiration. Then I walked into the hallway, tugged on a rope, and a blast of cold water cooled me off, making my body steam.

That night, we gathered with our friends in the dining room for homemade Thai curry and steamed rice. The large dining room is filled with an assortment of tables and chairs. There is a pool table in one corner of the room and some couches and reading chairs near an upright piano. Management provides several guitars, bamboo flutes and bongos, and guests can play music until 10 p.m. weekdays and 11 p.m. on weekends.

After dinner, my brother-in-law assembled some friends to play jazz tunes; Michael and I joined on guitar and piano, and eventually other guests joined in.

The next day Michael had made arrangements for a Swedish massage.... I retreated to the Fluminarium for another try at soaking in the hottest pool. It was impossible for me to get in without first cooling down, so I walked to the farthest deck perched over the creek and plugged the drain of a sunken bathtub near a clump of bamboo, where ice-cold creek water runs.

When my toes turned blue, I splashed out of the tub and made a beeline for the Fluminarium. I eased myself into the hottest pool and my muscles melted in the heat. It was a brief soak, but I had the feeling that if I landed in Hades I might be able to cope so long as a cool stream ran through it.

More Weekend Escapes: To purchase copies of past Weekend Escapes articles, call Times on Demand (800) 788-8804 from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Mon.-Fri.

* * *

A sanctuary for the self in Northern California's coastal range...
where quietude is revered, conservation a way of life.

For reservations call (530) 473-2306 from 10am to 8pm daily.
Wilbur Hot Springs, Wilbur Springs, California 95987-9709.
For questions or comments about our website,
please e-mail us at info@wilburhotsprings.com

[ top ]