Relax and Recharge in Scenic Santa Fe

by Susan Van Allen

The mountain sky of Santa Fe. Photo by Jack Parsons

Two magpies cackled overhead, stopping us in our tracks as we hiked our way up into the Sangre de Cristo mountains.

It seemed to me they squawked, "Shut up, gals!"… and it worked. For the first time since I'd hooked up with Meredith at the airport for our annual "Talk-It-All-Out Weekend Reunion," we stopped yakking.

Mission accomplished, the birds flew off. We watched them fade into infinite blue sky, took deep breaths of juniper scented air, stared out over the red hills, and exhaled in gratitude for our springtime rejuvenation retreat in Santa Fe.

Last year we'd rendezvoused on Italy's Amalfi coast. But this year, money and time constraints kept us closer to home. Santa Fe provided all we needed to shake off the accumulated stress of the past twelve months: peaceful surroundings, invigorating hiking trails, elegant restaurants, and (most importantly), a spa, where troubles that couldn't be solved by gabbing or eating could be pounded or soaked away.

In fact, our first stop was the ShaNah Wellness Center Spa, a recent addition to The Bishops' Lodge Resort, where we'd chosen to stay for the weekend. The "Healing Remedy" offerings on ShaNah's menu are inspired by the traditions of the Native Americans and Spanish settlers who once roamed this land. Treatments range from Shankara Gegensis Facials to Tesuque Clay Wraps along with the more familiar Swedish massages, acupuncture, and manicures.

"ShaNah means vitality and energy," my "healing artist" whispered as she lit candles in preparation for my Native Stones Massage. After warm basalt stones had smoothed out every knot in my back, I plucked a crisp apple from a basket in the lounge and floated to the garden where Meredith was soaking in an outdoor whirlpool. To us, ShaNah meant "Tra-la-la, we've clicked into rejuvenation gear!"

The weekend became a mix of pampered country living on the 450 acres of the lodge, and sophisticated dining around Santa Fe plaza, a five minute drive away.

Our spacious double suite, decorated with Native American prints, wood-beamed ceilings, and a Pueblo drum end table, opened to a private patio. Out there, as robins sang and a creek bubbled past us, we enjoyed morning coffee and afternoon breaks between hiking and gallery hopping.

Inside, the kiva fireplace and fluffy bathrobes provided cozy comforts after exhausting nights of wining, dining, and non-stop conversation.

The spectacular sunset from the Lodge lounge glowed with the brilliant turquoise and orange colors Georgia O'Keeffe captured in her landscapes. That image, along with a tip from a Santa Fe writer, ("The O'Keeffe Café is the new favorite of the locals"), inspired us to head to the recommended restaurant for our first night's dinner.

Clusters of red roses in full bloom and vintage black and white photos of O'Keeffe's northern New Mexico home in the café created an atmosphere that was as much a homage to the spirit of the artist as the sunset had been. Under a shot of the wizened artist looking out at us from her kitchen stove, we perused the innovative menu.

Chef Tony Lewis has combined classical French technique with local organic farm products to offer mouth-watering selections such as Poquitero rack of lamb with black olive polenta tapenade or seared veal chop with sherry turnip cream. The wine list, according to owner Michael O'Reilly, who worked as an international wine seller for 20 years, is "chosen solidly from the world's top two per cent."

Faced with the quality problem of having so many treasures to chose from, we settled on the seven course tasting menu with matching wines.

Our waiter was expert at being helpful and convivial, without intruding on our conversation, which was no small feat. He paced the meal perfectly, as we covered topics ranging from relationship problems to bumpy careers to world events, while reveling in the bursts of bold flavors from each dish and glass of wine he set before us. An extraordinary twist on a dessert standard -- cheesecake made with mango and white chocolate -- left us blissful and inspired by the whole operation and our lively gabfest.

A bright crisp morning gave us the urge to get moving and work off the meal of the night before. Meredith opted for a yoga class at the spa, while I wandered the grounds of the lodge. Horses were being groomed at the stables for trail riders, families were having fun on the swing sets at the playground, and across the fish pond I caught a glimpse of a coyote ambling up a trail.

I headed for the historic center of the property: the Bishop's chapel. Plaques on the walls reminded me that this was once the home of the lead character of a favorite novel of mine from high school days; "Death Comes To The Archbishop," by Willa Cather.

I remembered loving the story of the adventures and trials of French Bishop Lamy, who came to this territory in 1851 when Santa Fe was a rough and alienating place. Over time Lamy grew to love the frontier so much that he chose to retire in the spot I now stood on, rather than returning to his French village. As I admired the garden and fruit trees he planted against an endless backdrop of breathtaking high desert, I began to understand his decision.

In town that afternoon, we cruised through residential areas, imagining what life would be like in one of those rose adobe homes surrounded by blooming forsythia and pink dogwood trees. On Canyon Road, we joined the tourists to browse the galleries showcasing impressive collections of international and local artists. We made a quick circle around the Plaza's folk art and jewelry shops, fighting the urge to buy attractive turquoise bracelets, as we were saving our money to splurge on another fantastic dinner.

For our grand culinary finale we chose The Old House in the Eldorado Hotel. The restaurant features southwestern cooking by celebrity chef Martin Rios, who has been awarded for his unique sauces and French/Asian fusion style. After one bite of his quail stuffed with foie gras appetizer, I made a mental note to pick up his cookbook as soon as it hits the stands. The rich lively flavors in each of our courses -- from the sea scallops to the chocolate cake with warm liquid center -- had us scraping our plates to enjoy every last fork full.

The service staff in the folk art decorated dining room all wear name tags underscored with their home town. Our waiter, Mike, from Cocoa Beach, Florida, shared a story like so many we'd heard from locals: he'd come here for a vacation, fell in love with the area, and never left.

To stretch out our last night, we stopped in at El Farol, a classic Santa Fe destination, where a folksinger crooned Bob Dylan songs. We soaked in the homey atmosphere with the guys in cowboy boots and gals in prairie skirts who were slinging back Tecate beers and shots of tequila around the old polished wooden bar.

After a hike on our final morning, we caught a glimpse of ourselves in a mirror of the suite. Worry lines in our foreheads had vanished and our skin was glowing. We were ready to get back to our hectic lives with a calmer, fresher perspective. And maybe someday, like Georgia O'Keeffe, Bishop Lamy, and so many of the locals we'd met, we'll come here for a visit and never leave.