Soak in the solitude at Oregon resort

BREITENBUSH HOT SPRINGS, Ore. — Follow an old logging road north of Detroit, veer onto gravel, then walk a few hundred feet down a mud path. That's where a collection of vintage cabins, buildings and several steaming pools of mineral water emerge from the Willamette National Forest.

The oasis, called Breitenbush Hot Springs, has been a quiet success for 26 years. And that's the way owners like it.

While the retreat doesn't draw much attention to itself, mostly advertising in local alternative magazines, more than 15,000 visitors from around the world find their way to the hot spot in the central Cascades about 60 miles east of Salem.

Most come to soak in stone-lined tubs, while others enjoy everything from yoga to conferences on personal fulfillment.

The community's success story differs greatly from the economies of surrounding towns, such as Detroit, which have struggled through the decline in timber harvesting and the ups and downs of tourism.

Some say the trick might be in the retreat's niche.

It's the peaceful atmosphere, great hikes and beautiful surroundings that do it, said Eugene Gogol, a frequent visitor.

The vintage lodge with its log-cabin appeal is one of Gogol's favorite places to work on his book. There are no phones, no televisions and no radios to interrupt, he said, sitting in front of his laptop computer in the library.

"I can work. Go soak when I get tired of working and come back," the Eugene resident said.

But the natural oasis is not for everyone.

From the grass roof on the meditation hut to the carpet and pillows in the yoga sanctuary, the place screams New Age.

Clothing optional

Most cabins don't have plumbing. And one travel critic called the food, a point of pride at the retreat, "aggressively vegetarian."

Another feature that might take some getting used to is the clothing-optional rule in the tubs.

Stayton resident Lisa Hofmann said she didn't know if she could fit in with such a free crowd when she arrived at Breitenbush on a recent weekend. Her fiancé was attending a retreat for massage therapists, one of many special conferences held at the hot springs.

"I saw a whole family sitting there naked, and I thought I could never do that. And here I am," she said, sitting bare-skinned in one of the three meadow pools overlooking Breitenbush River.

A good percentage of visitors discover the retreat during one of several monthly conferences. Everything from yoga to meditation is taught by sometimes internationally known instructors.

In July, a visit from renowned spiritual teacher Ram Dass is expected to draw people from around the world.

Built in the 1920s, the resort is open year-round and hits its peak in summer. Those who call for reservations often get busy signals as early as May. Most have to book three months in advance on weekends. It takes a few days of advance notice for midweek visits.

Despite its popularity, the oasis is not raking in the profits, said Tim McDevitt, one of 25 owners who run the cooperative business.

Operating in the secluded area costs just about as much as what the retreat brings in, he said.

Hauling food up to Breitenbush and maintaining heat and power systems can be expensive. The retreat's heat comes from hot water about 800 feet below the ground. Its energy comes from a small turbine that harnesses the river's running water. The business also pays salaries and benefits for about 45 full-time employees, all of whom live on the Breitenbush property for free. Several dozen additional workers are hired for the busy summer season.

Owners say Breitenbush's success isn't about the money.

When Alex Beamer bought the place in 1977, he wanted to create a sustainable community to operate the retreat. He enlisted about 20 people to help him transform a rotting resort into a bustling community on the promise of making them owners of the retreat when they were done.

He kept his word. Breitenbush is run as a co-op with 25 owners, most of whom stay for a few years, then leave to make room for others. The business has grown from making $25,000 in revenue its first year to $2 million last year with a 5 percent profit margin.

A community effort

Its success, in small ways, has spilled over to Detroit, a nearby community that depends on summer boating recreation at Detroit Lake. Breitenbush will refer clients to hotels and other lodgings when its campus is full.

Tee Berthel, a Detroit resident and owner of Repose & Repast bed and breakfast, said about one-quarter of her customers come from Breitenbush. In turn, she has recommended the hot springs to a few of her guests.

The Detroit business community could learn from Breitenbush's marketing and promotion techniques, she said.

Detroit has started to promote itself as more than just a boating oasis after drought conditions and federal regulations left the town without a lake and without an income in 2001. Business owners have created a bluegrass festival in August and have expanded the town's Web site.

"We still have a long way to go in learning to market ourselves," Berthel said.

Unlike Detroit, Breitenbush isn't interested in getting bigger, at least for now. Its systems already are maxed out, said Alea Brager, event coordinator.

"We don't want to get bigger because there's only so much room in the dining hall and parking lot and on the land," she said.

The co-op recently bought 67 acres, but Brager said she hasn't heard any talk of expanding the retreat. The employees' cabins might be moved onto that land and off of a flood plain near the river.

For the most part, owners see Breitenbush continuing its quiet success for the next 26 years.

That is, as long as the hot springs hold out. Resident expert Jeff Mangers said there's nothing to fear on that count. He estimates that the springs will be good for another 100 million years.