It’s been a chaotic and stressful year, and 2026 isn’t looking much better. Now’s your chance to leave it all behind. From hot springs to beer therapy, we found 15 ways to slow down, breathe deep, and relax.

Read More: 7 More Ways to Kick Back in Colorado

Jump Ahead:

• Beyul Retreat, Meredith
• Capella Ranch, Lafayette
• Drala Mountain Center, Red Feather Lakes
• Hotel 1888, Glenwood Springs
• Joyful Journey Hot Springs Spa, Moffat
• Nature Heals Forest Bathing, Boulder
• Oakwell Beer Spa, Littleton
• Old Elitch’s Carousel Pavilion, Denver (Berkeley)
• Pur Artistry, Denver (LoHi)
• Recovery Lab, Vail
• El Santuario de los Pobladores, Antonito
• Sapa Spa and Wellness, Denver (Speer)
• The Springs Resort, Pagosa Springs
• Valley View Hot Springs, Moffat
• The Western, Ouray

• Where: 26604 Frying Pan Road, Meredith
• What: Get off the grid.

Nestled in a human-size bird’s nest along the Fryingpan River, I fought the urge to pull my iPhone out of my fanny pack. There’s no cell service on Beyul Retreat’s 32-acre property about an hour east of Carbondale, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to scroll Instagram—but I could take a selfie. Or add eggs to my Google Keep grocery list. We should probably hit Costco on our way home. What’s for dinner tomorrow…? As my heart rate began to pick up, I remembered the words I’d found posted on a nearby tree: “In the midst of life’s hustle, Beyul is a sanctuary of the Great Slow Down—a deliberate pause to reconnect with oneself and the world. We invite you to quiet the mind’s running commentary, to shed the ‘shoulds’ of the external world.”

So, I took a deep breath and refocused my thoughts on all the seekers who’d sat here before me. I wondered if they, too, felt overwhelmed by modern life—a ceaseless barrage of emails to answer, playdates to organize, breaking news alerts to read. Soon, silent tears were streaming down my cheeks.

The nest, created by artist Debbie Baxter, is one of seven stops along Beyul’s Terroir Art Path, which also includes a stone labyrinth and a cold plunge in the river. The trail is designed to inspire self-reflection, cause a bit of discomfort, and spur transformation. The rest of the century-old guest ranch (which became Beyul in 2020 and began hosting individuals as well as creative, yoga, and meditation retreats year-round) is more traditionally relaxing: 15 cabins of various sizes, starting at $139 per night, are simply but comfortably outfitted with fireplaces, basic kitchenettes, and porches with sunset views. A hot tub sits next to a dry cedar sauna and a cold-plunge tub near the main lodge, which has reliable satellite Wi-Fi, coffee and tea, and a little bodega with snacks and cooking essentials (the nearest grocery store is 50 minutes away). White, fringed hammocks are strewn between trees across the property; my husband and I spent an entire afternoon swinging, reading, and gazing at the sky.

We also meandered a couple of miles through alpine tundra on a trail too flat to be properly called a hike and spent a golden hour perched on a flat rock in the middle of the Fryingpan. The longer we were at Beyul, the more comfortable I became with the stillness—and the more committed I became to building tech-free moments into my routine back at home. —Jessica LaRusso

Read More: 8 Leaf-Peeping Mountain Getaways You Should Take This Fall

• Where: 9774 Phillips Road, Lafayette
• What: Commune with bees.

I am the type of person who shouts an expletive when a bee alights on my dinner plate. So I felt some trepidation before visiting Capella Ranch, north of Lafayette, where the main attractions are two huts filled with 150,000 bees. Guests are separated from the insects by a mesh barrier, and their “rhythmic buzzing” will “lull you into a state of deep relaxation,” according to the website.

Capella Ranch’s owners, Charlie and Carolyn Peterson, opened their huts ($35 for 30 minutes) in 2023, after Charlie began dabbling in beekeeping and ended up with 25 hives, more than he knew what to do with. A friend suggested bee therapy, which today commonly consists of breathing in the beehive air; it’s said to have anti-inflammatory properties that can alleviate respiratory ailments. “We’ve had about 1,200 people come through,” Carolyn says, “and anybody who’s congested usually feels a break.” Others simply enjoy the mental health benefits of hive-guided meditation.

Carolyn led me into a hut, which had a pleasant piney scent and looked a lot like a sauna, just without the heat. Under the slats was a fine mesh barrier and, beyond it, the bees.

I closed my eyes, and the gentle humming lulled me into a half-asleep trance. Before I knew it, Carolyn was knocking softly on the door. I didn’t emerge in tears, as some visitors have, but my mind did feel quieter. Could I have achieved the same effect without the aid of the background buzz? Probably, but I wouldn’t have: The novelty of the experience motivated me to set aside my laptop and make the time.

At the very least, I gained a new appreciation for the insects. As I walked back to my car, a stray bee darted in front of my face. Instead of screaming, I waved it away gently, bidding goodbye to a new friend. —Rose Cahalan

• Where: 151 Shambhala Way, Red Feather Lakes
• What: Immerse yourself in sound.

I arrived at Drala Mountain Center, a 54-year-old Buddhist retreat in Red Feather Lakes, more than an hour early for my Father’s Day sound bath ($50). It took 10 minutes for the silence of the place to begin to gnaw at me. In the Zen garden, along the walking trails, at the gleaming Great Stupa of Dharmakaya temple—the hush of the place overwhelmed me. Finally free of the noise of the modern world, my thoughts crashed into each other: out of order, loud, nonsensical.

Eager to be delivered from my mind, I was thankful to see the teacher had hung three large gongs behind an array of Tibetan singing bowls. As we arranged ourselves for the two-hour session (one of many group classes at Drala, along with yoga, meditation, and silent retreats), the instructor explained that sound baths stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system, which is responsible for relaxing your body.

“It’s for people whose bolts are too tight,” he said, “or too loose.”

Mine were evidently screwed to the point of snapping: Once the session began, the teacher struck a gong that sounded like a train bearing down on me. “You have to breathe through it,” the instructor said. “Find a way to cope here, so you can deal with it out there.” The sound bowls chimed in—meditative, then fast. Behind my closed eyelids, I saw red, happy swirls. Then, another crashing gong. A black, inky blob intruded on my vision. I panicked. I wanted to get up and run. Instead, I told myself: Just breathe.

Slowly, the blob turned white. It felt calm. A serenity washed over me. It was as if I had found a way to tap into a state of equilibrium that could not be colored by outside noise—or the lack of it. —Spencer Cambell

Read More: Ready for Relief and Healing? Try Sound Bathing.

• Where: 401 N. River St., Glenwood Springs
• What: Stay at a luxe hotel.

Walter Devereux didn’t have to move mountains to open Glenwood Hot Springs Resort, home of the new, opulent Hotel 1888—but he did have to divert a river. To access the spring in the Colorado River, the late 19th-century silver and coal baron nudged the course of the water to the south, which allowed him to fill the largest hot springs pool in the world at the time. The adjoining bathhouse proved almost as ambitious: Built of peachblow sandstone from a quarry near Basalt for $100,000 ($3.4 million today), the edifice featured vapor baths, a billiards room, and a casino. While the Grand Pool has endured since its opening in 1888, the bathhouse eventually became the resort’s spa, until it shuttered in 2020.

After a yearlong remodel completed in June, the building—whose 16 luxury accommodations start at $439 per night—is once again fit for a silver baron. Here’s how to get the royal treatment during your stay. —SC

• The Silver Kings Suite’s features—a king-size bed, elegant blue wallpaper, and a bright white bathroom with a shower for two—are similar to those of the other rooms, but it alone features a giant balcony (pictured) that overlooks the Grand Pool. Just be sure to don your complimentary plush robe before stepping out to preside over the commoners.
• Guests of Hotel 1888 get free access to the main hot springs pool (note: cannonballing from the Silver Kings balcony is strictly prohibited) and to the Yampah Mineral Baths, which opened last year. These five smaller pools offer a range of soaking experiences designed to de-stress. The 100-plus-degree Cascade Waters, for example, lulls bathers into a meditative state through an ever-churning waterfall. The Inhale pool, meanwhile, leans into the cold-plunge trend by keeping its temps frosty, between 52 and 60 degrees.
• The resort no longer has an on-site spa, but Yampah Spa & Vapor Caves is so close you won’t notice the omission. Located a short walk from the entrance of Hotel 1888, Yampah provides all the comforts you could want from a modern spa, including massages, facials, and body scrubs, but its most compelling feature lies beneath the building, which dates to 1893. There, vapors created by the hot springs fill underground chambers, producing a balmy natural steam bath that averages around 110 degrees.

Read More: Unwind After Your Mountain Adventures at These 6 New Hotels

• Where: Boulder
• What: Go forest bathing.

Forest bathing might seem like an obvious fit for recreation-happy Coloradans, but it actually runs a bit counter to the way we often approach the outdoors: chasing PRs, snapping summit selfies, and padding our Strava stats. That’s why we followed Darlene Rooney-Keller, an Association of Nature & Forest Therapy–certified guide ($185 for a solo session), into the forests of Boulder’s Flagstaff Mountain to glean these four tips you can use any time you need a rinse in the healing showers of the earth. —JL

• Get outside. If you can go to an actual forest—preferably one with conifers, which emit fragrant terpenes (compounds that may reduce blood pressure and boost your immune system)—great. If the best you can do is a park or your backyard, that works too.
• Slow down. Walk at a quarter of the speed you would normally hike, concentrating on feeling the muscles in your legs engage. Pause whenever you feel called to caress tree bark, inhale the scents of wildflowers, and watch butterflies flutter by.
• Choose a focus. On her immersions, Rooney-Keller sends participants out in roughly 15-minute blocks to wander, with invitations to, for example, look for shapes and patterns or pay attention to light and shadow. Return to these prompts any time your mind starts to wander to your email inbox.
• Find a sit spot. Ideally, this is somewhere you can go back to often—a rock with a nice view on a favorite hike, a bench in your garden, a shady patch of grass along your bike commute. Rest here, observing everything from distant grasses to bugs crawling at your feet. This is also a good space to home in on individual senses: What do you hear or smell? Can you feel your heartbeat? With repetition, Rooney-Keller says, these deliberate rituals can help you “drop in” to a relaxed, meditative state—and bring those feelings of calm and connectedness back to everyday life.

Read More: Where To Go Forest Bathing in Colorado

• Where: 6660 Timberline Road #100, Littleton
• What: Sip and dip at a beer spa.

I have a confession: I’m not a fan of spas. The shoes, robes, and waiting rooms feel too clinical. And lying still while someone in a crisp uniform kneads, abrades, and slathers me in goo gives me an eerie notion of impending slashing. That’s the way horror movies start.

My go-to strategy for unwinding is quaffing a beer, which is why a session at Oakwell Beer Spa’s Highlands Ranch outpost didn’t induce dread. The founders, a married couple who opened the original RiNo location in 2021 and this suburban spot in April, wanted to create a spa that felt more welcoming to men. Rather than hand me a robe, staff members gave me an insulated tumbler for my beverage of choice, a low-ABV sour cherry cider, from the serve-yourself beer wall.

I followed an attendant into one of four private rooms, where he pointed out an infrared sauna, a shower, and a capacious stainless-steel tub. I’d signed up for the 90-minute Beer Therapy Ritual package ($200 for up to two people; offerings for groups of up to four are available). The suggested routine? Fifteen minutes in the sauna followed by a cold shower and a long soak in water fortified not with actual IPA but hops, barley, and other ingredients that promise multiple health benefits—plus the evocation of beer. I selected two additional sachets of herbs: an arnica blend (a $10 add-on to ease my joint and muscle pains) and a free “calming” blend to melt away my cares.

I was worried I wouldn’t last 15 minutes in the 144-degree sauna, but the initial wall of heat turned into a blanketing warmth. I couldn’t bring myself to step fully into the waterfall of chilly water, but the misty spray from the oversize showerhead was refreshing enough. Finally, I lowered myself into the roiling vat of beer-scented tea. It was more aromatherapy than keg party: After 30 minutes, completely enveloped in the smells of hops and herbs, I realized I had been doing nothing but staring at bubbles.

The tub announced last call with 20 minutes left, draining automatically. My mind blank and my muscles slack, I stepped out of my shower shoes and back into reality. Fortunately, wisps of piney and floral scents clung to my skin for the rest of the day—a rejuvenating hint of the hair of the dog that soothed me. —Mark Antonation

Read More: 5 Unique Colorado Spa Experiences You Should Gift Yourself

• Where: 1735 Central St., Suite 100, Denver (LoHi)
• What: Visit a head spa.

I first heard of head spas via Instagram. The practice has roots in the Japanese tradition of amna—a scalp massage for relieving tension and promoting hair health—and American salons have added a deep shampoo washed away by a heavenly halo-shaped showerhead. As a new mom this past spring, I barely had time to rinse the spit-up from my hair before my napping three-month-old would erupt in a wail. So, I booked the 75-minute signature head spa ($175) at the new LoHi location of Pur Artistry (the original is in the Denver Tech Center). The owner, Thanh Vo, added the treatment in 2024 after attending a training in Vietnam.

My appointment began with a cosmetologist who used a scope to examine my scalp and follicles. “Not too bad, just a bit of dryness and product buildup,” she said. Over the course of the next hour, she massaged my head, neck, shoulders, and arms; exfoliated my scalp with a comb; double cleansed my hair; and applied a deep conditioner to my ends. She placed a warm mask over my eyes and the gentle trickle of the water halo at the crown of my head. With the scent of eucalyptus in the air, time seemed to slow down, my muscles melting into the heated massage table.

After a quick blow dry, I drove home with squeaky clean hair, blissed out yet eager to get back to my squawking newborn. When I arrived, he greeted me with a gummy smile—and promptly spit up on my shoulder. Fortunately, he missed my freshly washed tresses. —Michelle Shortall

• Where: 728 W. Lionshead Circle, Vail
• What: Recover like a pro.

LeBron James and Cristiano Ronaldo swear by Normatec boots—a fact that embarrassed me immensely as I slid into the full-length leg sleeves at Vail’s Recovery Lab. After all, playing pickup soccer and chasing toddlers on balance bikes probably isn’t the type of physical activity Normatec’s makers had in mind when they dreamed up this revolutionary recovery technology.

Still, Harrison Brown, who opened Recovery Lab in 2021, assured me I’d notice a difference—75 percent less fatigue and soreness—if used after a workout. In addition to the boots, Brown offers a fleet of other recovery tools, such as oxygen, IV treatments, red light therapy, electromagnetic mats, and cryotherapies. “I wanted to subsidize this stuff…for the general public to experience what elite athletes do,” Brown says. It’s an interesting premise; one that costs $85 for an hour, compared with more than $1,000 if I bought the boots.

I laid myself on a warm table, and Brown hooked me up with a blackout mask and noise-canceling headphones that played meditative tones and white noise. The boots inflated and deflated, mimicking the body’s natural muscle-pumping process. This purportedly enhances blood circulation and lymphatic drainage, reducing swelling and soreness. I spent an hour drifting in and out of a lucid state, and when I walked out, I did feel refreshed. They didn’t make me Ronaldo, but I could probably outrun a balance bike. —Maren Horjus

• Where: 6633 County Road 13, Antonito
• What: Lose yourself in a maze.

Prayer mazes have been employed by churches since the Middle Ages, when Christians wandered their passages in symbolic pilgrimages. Today, they’ve taken on a more secular handle—“meditation labyrinths”—and are used by anyone in search of quiet contemplation. More than 140 of these coiled sanctuaries exist in Colorado, most are free, and the basic instructions are simple: Hold a question, prayer, or image in your mind; follow the path to the middle; take three deep breaths in the center; then follow the path out, revisiting your original intention.

Dating to 1863, Our Lady of Guadalupe is the oldest church in Colorado. To honor its heritage, three years ago the local Catholic parish erected El Santuario (pictured), an adobe prayer maze whose walls stand six feet tall. The height of the labyrinth encourages private reflection; visitors are encouraged to wander and also to spend time in one of 20 cubicles, each of which has a bench, prayer kneeler, and bronze sculpture depicting one of the Mysteries of the Rosary—significant events in the lives of Jesus and the Virgin Mary.

Here, two more spirals worth getting stuck in while you’re traversing the Centennial State. —SC

Joyful Journey Hot Springs Spa

• Where: 28640 County Road 58EE, Moffat

Most travelers stop at this roadside retreat off U.S. 285 for its three travertine pools, built into decks and warmed between 98 and 108 degrees (there are also two Jacuzzis and a cold plunge). While you’re there, visit the on-site labyrinth. It’s rustic, made of loose rocks with a weather-worn statue of an angel in the center, and the Sangre de Cristo Mountains loom to the east.

Old Elitch’s Carousel Pavilion

• Where: West 38th Avenue and Tennyson Street, Denver (Berkeley)

If your brain wants to wander but your body just can’t leave town, head to the intersection of West 38th Avenue and Tennyson Street. There stands a pavilion that once housed Elitch Gardens’ carousel, before the amusement park moved to its current location on the South Platte River, near downtown Denver. The cement labyrinth that replaced the leaping horses consists of 11 circuits, ensuring you’ll do just as much spinning—but hopefully a lot more centering.

• Where: 344 E. 7th Ave., Denver (Speer)
• What: Steep in an herbal bath.

Whenever Thang Cao felt ill as a child growing up in rural Vietnam, her mother would place her in a bucket filled with warm water and foraged herbs. Cao later moved to America and married Ryan Zeisig in 2013. The newlyweds honeymooned in Vietnam—where Zeisig got food poisoning in the mountain town of Sapa. Fortunately, his wife knew exactly what to prescribe: the herbal baths of the Red Dao, a local ethnic minority group. Zeisig’s symptoms eased immediately.

The Red Dao have been gathering plants from the hillsides of Sapa since the 18th century, passing down their healing traditions from mother to daughter. In 2006, a member of the group founded Sapanapro to distribute the herbs to wider markets and share the profits with the community; Cao and Zeisig became the first Americans to import the company’s ingredients when they opened Sapa Spa and Wellness in Speer in summer 2024.

Inside the lone private bathing room at Sapa Spa, a three-and-a-half-foot copper tub is filled with javanica, elderberry, and other ingredients and warmed to 103 degrees. The water is dark, sort of like black tea. The concoction has been shown to aid recovery from illness, childbirth, and fatigue, according to the couple. (Elderberry is a proven anti-inflammatory.) The experience is also beneficial for anyone looking to chill out—if you can stand the heat.

About a third of the way into the 30-minute session ($70), you’ll break a sweat. Once your time is up, wrap yourself in a robe, move to the adjacent bench to cool off, and prepare to feel rejuvenated for the rest of the day. “It wears you down a bit when you’re in there, but once you get out and your body temperature gets back to normal, it’s just wow,” Zeisig says. “Above all, it promotes deep relaxation.” —Barbara O’Neil

• Where: 323 Hot Springs Blvd., Pagosa Springs
• What: Soak in healing waters.

This past April, the Springs Resort in Pagosa Springs doubled the number of its geothermal pools, all of which are fed by the Mother Spring, the deepest hot spring in the world. The property also built a panoramic sauna that looks out over the San Juan Mountains and began offering a slew of wellness activities—e.g., aqua sound baths—whose descriptions read like something from Gwyneth Paltrow’s dreams. To me, however, it sounded like torture. You see, I’m the sweatiest girl I know. (I once rocked a sweat ring around my belly button during a public-speaking class in college. I heard it was noticeable.)

When my boyfriend and I arrived, the steam rising off the 50-plus pools and water features perched alongside the San Juan River shrouded throngs of hotel guests and locals with day passes (starting at $67). The tubs range from a scorching 112 degrees to as low as 35 degrees. Due to my hyperhidrosis, we settled on the mid-range, 103-degree Day Dreamin’ pool. The resort’s medical director, Marcus Coplin, suggests soaking for at least 15 minutes to reap the health rewards of the mineral water. I figured I’d never make it. But five minutes went by, then 10, then…I can’t tell you how many.

Eventually, I went to tighten my messy bun and realized my hair was slick—not with spring water, but with sweat. Yet my usual discomfort never descended. Whether it was the awe-inspiring scenery or the lithium in the water, I had no desire to ever leave that delightful soaking spot. But Coplin also recommends one minute of cold bathing, so we decamped for the San Juan River. Hand in hand, we dunked our heads below the surface. We lasted a solid 30 seconds before sprinting straight back to Day Dreamin’. —Jessica Giles

Read More: How to Make the Most of Your Stay at the Newly Expanded Springs Resort

• Where: 64393 County Road GG, Moffat
• What: Go au naturel.

Before graduation, my college roommates and I engaged in a symbolical ritual of rebirth before entering the real world: We went skinny-dipping in the fountain on campus. It was not a one-time show—not for me, anyway. My bare essentials have clandestinely blessed a number of Colorado locations over the years.

It might seem strange, then, that I was nervous about visiting Valley View Hot Springs, a clothing-optional retreat ($20 for a day pass) on the Orient Land Trust in Moffat. But my previous exploits had been done for the adrenaline and under the cover of darkness; this would be socially acceptable nudity. Strangers would actually see me. Still, as a photographer, I was intrigued by the property: Snuggled against the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, Valley View boasts uniquely breathtaking views of the San Luis Valley. I grabbed my camera and headed south.

In search of the best vantage point, I hiked a steep quarter-mile to the three top pools. The scene was tranquil and serene—water bubbled over rocks, a chilly November breeze flowed through pines—but my heart raced. Plenty of people were already in the water. I tried to delay the inevitable, fiddling with my camera and triple-checking I’d stowed my watch in my jacket pocket.

Finally, stealing a furtive glance around, I pulled off my shorts in one fluid motion. No reaction. Off went the jacket and shirt. Nothing. Nobody seemed to notice—or care. The warm water hit my chilled skin, melting away any feelings of awkwardness and body-consciousness. And yet I still felt tension in my shoulders. Something else was troubling me.

When golden hour began, I raised the one item I’d yet to shed—my camera. I started snapping photos of the light illuminating the steam off the water (keeping bathers other than my husband out of frame). And that’s when it hit me. I might have been nervous about the nudity before the trip, but that wasn’t where my stress was coming from. In every picturesque place I visit, I feel the burden of having to capture that beauty. It’s my job, and I love it. But even on my own time, I never give myself permission to just sit back and enjoy the splendor.

As the final rays of the day hit the valley floor, I put the camera down and moved to the pool’s edge. My shoulders eased. My jaw unclenched. I felt ready to be in that moment, preserved only in my mind’s eye. —Sarah Banks

Read More: So, You Wanna Try Naked Running, Nudist Camping, and Going Au Naturel Outside…

• Where: 210 7th Ave., Ouray
• What: Simplify your vacation.

The 19th-century mining enclave of Ouray is surrounded by iridescent cliffs that seem to have shielded the town from modernity. It’s a place preserved in time—simple, but far from basic.

Perhaps no local establishment represents this balance better than the Western, a hotel, bar, restaurant, and spa located steps off Main Street. Constructed in 1891, the wood-frame former boarding house was recently renovated. The result is a destination hotel that is—in an era when every minute of our lives is besieged by decisions—blessedly low on choices. Rest assured, the few on offer are good ones.

The renovation turned the basement into the Grotto, a dark retreat with only three options—a two-person cold plunge, a sauna, and a 12-by-15-foot hot tub. (The Grotto is free and only open to hotel guests.) The spa’s treatments, delivered in adjoining rooms, are highly curated: You won’t find a single peel, abrasion, or any other procedure that heals through pain. Rather, the Western focuses on hydrating facials that cleanse, exfoliate, and employ an organic serum to plump up withered cells. The massage roster—which includes the San Juan Refresh (a Swedish), the Ouray Balance (a deep-tissue), and the Mountain Soul (a full-body topped with dry brushing and hot stones)—is similarly restrained.

In the first-floor Western Saloon & Grill, the developer kept the original hand-carved wooden bar and unearthed forgotten relics, including “Jezebel,” a portrait of a black-haired woman who had been imprisoned under decades of varnish on the bar’s hardwood floors. The revamp also trimmed the guest register, paring down 40 boarding rooms on the second and third floors to 16 suites (from $250 per night), each of which features its own fireplace and kitchen (stocked with complimentary yogurt, coffee, and granola). Choose one of the rooms without a TV, and you won’t even have to stress over what to watch. —SC

Read More: Your Guide to Ouray