The pursuit of pampering

This was a big decision. This wasn't your average, everyday spa. This was The Homestead. That resort with the extraordinary reputation. The one that's hosted presidents — Jefferson, Hoover, Reagan, to name a few — not to mention socialites such as the Rockefellers and Vanderbilts.

I had never been to The Homestead. It had never occurred to me to go — until recently when I realized that the three-star gem is practically in my back yard. But, with high ratings come high rates. And I am a far cry from the Rockefellers and Vanderbilts.

The Homestead Resort, which sits just outside of Clifton Forge in Hot Springs, Va., is only 75 miles from Roanoke. "A lot of people come [to The Homestead] from Roanoke," said Christie Ford, spa director. "Most come to spend a night, get a treatment, have dinner and play golf."

I decided to just go for the day. Spending the day there would still allow me to get out of town and experience life at the resort but without the overnight price tag. So, in lieu of the room, I opted for the spa ... and the European facial.

I learned pretty quickly that history runs deep at The Homestead spa.

The scenic Allegheny Mountains, the natural springs — it's the ideal backdrop for a rejuvenation experience. Thomas Jefferson figured that out nearly 200 years ago when he visited Warm Springs (about 5 miles from Hot Springs) to soak in the mineral springs at the Gentlemen's Pool House, considered the oldest spa structure in the United States. Built in 1761 and filled with 40,000 gallons of constantly flowing natural spring water, it's still in use today, along with a separate Ladies Pool House established in 1836. Jefferson believed the springs, now called the Jefferson Pools, had healing powers, and he would "take the waters" three times daily for his rheumatism.

I thought about the healing power of the water as I slid into my plush, white robe in the ladies' dressing room. I wondered if they used the water from the natural springs for spa treatments. "Yes, we use the natural mineral water in most of our treatments," said Ford.

I was led up a sweeping staircase to the co-ed waiting hall where several other robe-clad visitors lounged in wide-back wicker chairs and along bench seats tucked away in mini alcoves. They were eating oranges, drinking hot tea and reading magazines while they waited for their treatments. (It's advised that you arrive at least 30 to 45 minutes before your scheduled appointment.)

What a difference it would make if the DMV were set up this way.

I'll admit, though, that I was a little leery of what kind of service I would receive — and how long I'd have to wait to receive it — given the sea of slippers ahead of me. Because of its reputation, the Homestead spa caters to upward of 1,000 patrons per week, said Ford.

About 15 minutes later, I was lying in the chair, soft jazz played from a CD player in the corner of the candlelit room. My face was wrapped in hot towels, and any concerns I had about being just one of a number faded.

Mikki May, my facial specialist, gave me a rundown of what she was going to do to me during the next 50 minutes. First I'd get a deep-cleansing treatment, then a mini skin peel (a type of exfoliation that uses a combination of salicylic and glycolic acids to give the skin a lift), followed by a cold pack to tone and tighten my skin and then a moisturizing mask. No cucumbers?

"We don't use cucumbers for this particular treatment," Mikki said. "This is more of a deep-cleansing of the skin." Whatever it was, it sounded good to me. I was just as happy with hot towels on my face.

A few minutes later, I woke up to Mikki massaging my arms and hands. My treatment was nearly over; I'd managed to sleep through most of it. I remember tidbits of conversation here and there, but for the most part I was out, and completely relaxed. And, best of all, my face felt 10 years younger.

Armed with a rejuvenated face and a full belly (I ate a crab-cake sandwich and drank a mimosa at the Casino Club Restaurant), I headed for the Jefferson Pools, where the water is always 98 degrees and clothing is optional. I won't reveal whether or not I revealed anything, but I will say one thing: That Jefferson certainly knew how to do it right.

Cascades: Knock-out facial

I use Wite-Out in my date book, defrost dinner before work and turn off lights when I leave the room.

Uptight? A touch.

On a recent weekend, though, massage therapist Anne Munson managed to relax me. So much so that I snored — right there on her heated massage table. She said it happens all the time.

Since she opened in April, the sandman got many clients, including guests at nearby bed and breakfasts and visiting relatives of students at Washington and Lee University or Virginia Military Institute.

Most saw the spa in an online directory and liked the range of services for moderate prices ($35-210).

Coming from my home in Roanoke, Lexington is about an hour away. I'd heard about other nearby day spas, but knew that after I was rejuvenated I'd want to explore a new town.

There is something liberating about acting like a tourist in your own state.

On the town's outskirts, in a new business district off U.S. 11, Cascades felt like an oasis.

I was taken to the "tranquility room," a calming area decorated with wicker furniture, beaded cushions and fountains in earth tones like umber and sage green.

Munson treated me like I was princess for a day. She brewed a cup of decaffeinated Earl Grey tea and asked if I was comfortable.

She gave me a health questionnaire that asked about respiratory and circulatory disorders and allergies to plants and scents. (I have all of the above, so I was glad she asked.) Though the form reminded me of a doctor's, Munson explained it to me in an easy, polite manner before she guided me to a massage room, where my residual tension melted.

Munson massaged my body with soothing Swedish strokes. Then, she asked where I still felt tight and pinpointed those spots with firmer, deep-tissue strokes. The whole time, she explained what I could do to avoid tightening up again (carry my briefcase over both shoulders, make my computer eye-level and not rest the laundry basket on my hip).

If I hadn't already scheduled a massage, I would have asked for a body wrap (see glossary above) and massaging shower.

Services like those, showers and baths, make Cascades a true day spa, according to Hannelore Leavy, executive director of the Day Spa Association. Many hair and nail salons are adding water-based spa treatments, she said, but few meet the association's qualifications.

During Cascade's body wrap, "the client is wrapped in four more layers," Munson said. "A cotton sheet, plastic sheet, a space blanket and a wool blanket. Then we turn the red heat lamps on. Even cold-natured people feel toasty."

Snug in that cocoon, Munson said, "Most people fall completely asleep.

As for me, I fell asleep during my facial.

Munson removed the residual makeup, dead skin cells and particulates from my face using a cool, deep cleanser. Then she applied a toner that tingled and smelled minty. My eyes were closed while she positioned the steam machine, which misted my face like a vaporizer for pores.

While I steamed, Munson mixed a mask especially for my sensitive skin. It contained algae and a blush-stopper. Soon, I slid into a dream, of mint-scented warmth and tinkling Muzak.

That spell was broken by the therapist who massaged my hands and feet. He said he had massaged stars such as Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver, but his bedside manner was lackluster. He rubbed oil and an assortment of what he called simply "ancient Chinese herbs" into my feet and hands. He moved slowly between appendages but dropped them onto the table, like cold, greasy lead. I didn't feel more relaxed, educated or beautiful.

Overall, however, my experience was pleasant and well worth the drive

Afterward, I browsed a few book and antique shops. At a sidewalk cafe, I ravenously ate an organic salad and listened to the musical clopping of a horse-drawn carriage filled with tourists. No thoughts of work, bills or other worries crossed my mind.