Featured Article - March 2009
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| The extended Hansen family takes a communical dip in a converted minnow bait tank at Riverbend Hot Springs. |
Retro Romance
While winter’s chill lingers, one couple escapes to the hotels and hot springs of Truth or Consequences
Story by Judith Fein
Imagine a place in southern
New Mexico where the winter blahs are replaced by ahhs. Where you can soak in a mineral bath with your honey without getting soaked. Where the words quirky and chic can be used in the same sentence.
My husband and I recently went to Truth or Consequences for a two-day getaway. Four days later we reluctantly stepped out of our final hot tub, I drained my last glass of Barolo wine, and we headed for home, anxious to tell friends about the coolest things we saw, ate, and experienced.
Until recently, if I told someone I was from New Mexico, I was invariably regaled with tales of the tourist wonders of Santa Fe and Taos. But now, little Truth or Consequences, about 150 miles south of Albuquerque on I-25, looms large in the minds of savvy world travelers. And its warm desert vibe resonates with visionaries from all over the United States, who are transforming T or C’s 1920s and ’30s motor courts, lumber stores, and gas stations into boutique hotels, restaurants, spas, healing centers, art galleries, yoga studios, and shops.
The area was discovered millennia ago by ancient Native Americans, who bathed in the geothermal springs, which they considered sacred. Then came Spanish settlers, ranchers, Apaches, cowboys, and folks who worked building the Elephant Butte Dam. In 1950, host Ralph Edwards put out a challenge for an American town to adopt the name of his popular game show, Truth or Consequences. Among the contenders, a small rural burg in New Mexico—then called Hot Springs—caught Edwards’s attention for its healing waters and humanistic values. He adopted the newly renamed town, and for the next 50 years visited its annual fiesta.
Today’s T or C, as New Mexicans call it, is a town of about 6,700 people that’s on the cusp of discovery. Nearby Spaceport America plans to offer $200,000 rides into suborbital space via Virgin Galactic within the next year or so, luxury homes are sprouting up close to a new golf course, and speculators are hovering around “for sale” signs outside mobile homes and funky bath houses.
A warning before you go: The stories told by the artists, healers, eco-activists, shopkeepers,
and local characters are so colorful, campy, and intriguing that you and your honey might stay longer than you originally intended. Perhaps you’ll even get that “floating” feeling that residents describe. The hot mineral water is less than 36 inches underfoot—it flows beneath the downtown area, and everywhere you look are indoor and outdoor public and private pools where the hot water is piped in directly for your bathing comfort. You can roll out of bed and there it is, in your own bathroom or in a private room down the hall—an earth-tone ceramic tub for you to sink into. If you make a new friend and he invites you to his house, you may end up enjoying the hot water in a metal vat or bathtub in his backyard. Unlike other hot-spring destinations in New Mexico, in T or C, soaking is a way of life.
The best way to experience T or C is to check into a hotel, lodge, or dive that has its own hot springs. Because my husband, Paul, and I arrived on a holiday weekend when most of the rooms in town were booked, we had to change hotels every night. Here are the digs we stayed at or checked out personally.
Retro Chic: Governor Bill Richardson came to soak and sleep at Blackstone, a remodeled 1930s motor court that oozes retro charm. Innkeepers Rob Wheeler and Ralph Stuart have poured blood, sweat, tears, and a lot of good taste into rooms named for TV shows: As The World Turns, The Twilight Zone, The Jetsons, The Golden Girls. Each room has its own large mineral tub, and the premises offer guests and lucky drop-ins the Wet Room: a mineral pool with a waterfall, a sauna with steam rising from the underground hot waters, a shower, and an “air bath” to cool you off. From $75. (575) 894-0894;
www.blackstonehotsprings.com
The Love Tub: Richard Epstein, owner of Fire Water Lodge, is a painter, photographer, and master carpenter who built the gorgeously hewn wooden furniture in the Southwestern-style adobe guestrooms. The restored 1926 motor court and bathhouse is recycled-wood retro on the outside, artistic on the inside. “I want honeymooners and lovers to come here and do it . . . then take a hot tub and find bliss,” Epstein says with an impish grin. From $70. (575) 740-0315; www.firewaterlodge.com
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| The bathroom of the Blue Room at The Pelican captures T or C's funky, escapist luxury. |
Fab Fiesta: Frida Kahlo would love the vivid colors adorning every room of The Pelican, which clearly draws its inspiration from Mexico. Each suite is a distinctive hue—lime green, gold, turquoise, or orange—guaranteed to quell the winter blues. A Corona, anyone? An on-site bathhouse with soaking tubs in cozy, private rooms is available to guests. From $55. (575) 894-0055; www.pelican-spa.com
Casual Cool: Hipsters who work for Sir Richard Branson’s Virgin Galactic have been seen checking into the luxe Sierra Grande Lodge and Spa. At the front desk, visitors purchase truffles by local chocolatier Misha Martin as they contemplate whether or not to have a Japanese Ashiatsu treatment, in which the therapist walks on the client’s back (at $125, this is affordable luxury, my friends). An on-premises baker supplies killer muffins for the breakfast buffet. From $99. (575) 894-6976; www.sierragrandelodge.com
Great Outdoors: Nature lovers will enjoy Riverbend Hot Springs, with its modest, inexpensive lodgings, outdoor soaks, and million-dollar riverside views. For the ultimate romantic experience, reserve the Río private pool ($15 per person per hour); perched over the Río Grande, it offers views of Turtle Back Mountain and the Caballo Range. “This isn’t a movie; it’s the real thing,” I heard a man coo to his wife as they plunged into the river to cool off after their hot time in the tub. From $55 for lodging; from $10 for mineral pool only. (575) 894-7625; www.nmhotsprings.com/springs.html
Where to find posh nosh:
Fine dining has come to T or C, and its name is Café Bella Luca (303 Jones St.). Chef Byron Harrel, who studied with old-school Italian chefs, whips up heaping platters of perfectly fried calamari ($9.95), arguably the world’s best roasted grouper ($19.95), and palate-pleasing pastas and pizzas. We ate there two nights in a row. Do not leave without ordering the Chocolate Decadence dessert or crème brûlée and chatting with Harrel’s wife, Jessica. This restaurant has more buzz than a beehive.
For breakfast, we met locals, lovers, and half the town at the turquoise-hued Happy Belly Deli (313 Broadway St.), where owners Blair Wyman and Linda DeMarino dispense free maps, brochures, and tourist information. The Kielbasa Scramble ($7.95) is killer. Not to worry, though, because chef Blair is a trained paramedic. The top lunch special is a combo of grilled polenta, provolone, spinach, and horseradish sauce on toasted sourdough ($6.95).
Black Cat Books and Coffee (128 Broadway St.) has loads of both and attracts lots of interesting characters. A lively mother-daughter team has just opened Cocoa Re’al (909 N. Date St., Ste. B), where they make and sell l5 flavors of truffles ($1.50–$2.50). If you drive 10 minutes to Elephant Butte Lake and Dam, stop and eat at the Elephant Butte Inn, which serves kick-ass posole ($5.95) and specialties like Green-Chile Chicken Lasagna ($12.95) and Chicken with Green-Chile Alfredo ($9.95). The dining room has a view of the lake.
Where to get physical:
There are an astounding 120 Reiki practitioners in T or C, and each local will recommend his or her own faves. But there seems to be unanimity on the best yoga studios: Wendy Evanson, who describes T or C as a “soul place with a very caring community,” runs the Studio de la Luz (308 S. Pershing St.). Her classes are a blend of yoga, tai chi, and authentic movement. Shayna Turner teaches Hatha yoga at the Mothership Yoga Lounge (500 Austin St.), a converted 1930s church. Today, a statue of Shiva perches near the old baptismal font. Locals as well as celebs, such as Jack Black do the downward-facing dog here. Turner will host the second annual Yoga Teachers Conference March 27–29.
Where to shop hop:
Dust & Glitter (404 Main St.) is an arty, upscale vintage-clothing shop where you can find everything from 1950s poodle bags to designer duds. Twyla McBride’s Moon Goddess (415 Broadway St.) sells everything from ball gowns to Afghan jewelry, and features fairies and dragons peeking out from behind wearable art made of recycled textiles: vintage bags embellished with pieces of an old boa, aprons made of Grandma’s hankies.
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| Jeff Dukatt, owner of Dukatt '71 Kustom Printed T-Shirts, has been tie-dying everything from suit jackets to T-shirts since the seventies. |
The best-known artist in town is Delmas Howe, who lives with his dog, Shanti, in his home studio. Howe is a masterful craftsman—his work hangs in museums and shows around the globe, and he’s won the Governor’s Award for Excellence in the Arts in New Mexico—but he still suffers from censorship, incurring wrath for the nude men and gay subject matter of his paintings. His achingly beautiful narrative work, for which he’s used locals as models, draws on mythology, the writings of Jean Genet, and the Stations of the Cross. He also paints flowers and does portraits that win praise, not condemnation. The Río Bravo Fine Art gallery (110 N. Broadway St.) features paintings, sculpture, photographs, linocuts, and furniture priced from $50 to $100,000. You’ll also find art by the late Harold Joe Waldrum (1934–2003), who lived and painted—in the nude—in what is now the gallery. Delmas Howe’s flower paintings are sold here, also.
Harried romantic, or it’s your fault we couldn’t relax:
We went to Truth or Consequences for a romantic getaway, but got caught up in the soulful, crazy, tasty, mystical, healing, unpretentious, off-the-grid, arty, funky vibe of the place. We met cowboys, rednecks, gays, artists, retirees, and a harmless wacko or two. We never sniffed a whiff of pretension. We made new friends.
But we never really relaxed, because we were too busy running around, wanting to experience everything so we could come back and tell you about it. We plan to return soon for a really romantic weekend—but that, amigos, will not be for publication.
For general info: www.sierracountynewmexico.info
Judith Fein is a travel journalist who has contributed to more than 80 publications, gives talks, and sometimes takes people on exotic trips. She and her husband, photojournalist Paul Ross, love anything that’s quirky, off the beaten path, artistic, and authentic.www.globaladventure.us