Portland Spa Treatments to Shake the Winter Doldrums

As Portland Monthly’s resident contrast therapy freak (see: our winter 2024/2025 issue), I can be something of a spa snob. So when the “thermal springs” within the hotel Cascada opened in early 2025, I wasn’t necessarily convinced it’d add much to Portland’s already-pretty-great lineup of bathhouses and spas. The hotel’s underground “sanctuary” of soaking pools, saunas, and cold plunge felt pretty similar to Knot Springs, minus the view. The outdoor hot tub and firepit sounded a lot like Everett House’s. And did a ritzy indoor pool and conservatory full of tropical plants really make sense here?

Still, I booked a Friday afternoon visit—$100 per person—which gave me access to the 82-degree conservatory, the subterranean soaking pools, and the outdoor hot tub and courtyard for three hours. Some may balk at the triple-digit price; if you do the math, however, that makes it a little more expensive than Everett House and a little less expensive than Knot Springs—fairly comparable. And three hours gives you enough time to genuinely relax; you’re not rushing to visit every tub, sauna, and cold plunge, and can luxuriate in a leisurely glass of wine or mocktail in a poolside day bed. You can forget the clock exists.

You enter the spa through the conservatory, on a mezzanine. It gives you an admittedly lovely bird’s-eye view of the pool and its various palms and potted trees. Descending the stairs, I scoped out the day beds and claimed one toward the far end, plopping my copy of The Vanishing Half next to my towel and the provided chaise cover. I decided to start my aquatic afternoon in the pool; I’m generally more of a lake or river gal, but Cascada’s pool was lovely and relatively under-utilized. The spa is 21+, which meant I could lie back and float without bumping into a game of Marco Polo or a flailing foam noodle. It’s not quite deep or big enough for full-on laps, which very well may be intentional; the conservatory is a social space, but it’s not as cacophonous as your average hotel pool. That way, it retains its sense of serenity.

After that initial dip, I headed outside to the hot tub, a round stone number near a chilly rainfall shower and an outdoor sauna. The sauna’s glass wall faced us, which meant we could make awkward eye contact with the one shvitzer inside. The firepit at the center of the courtyard wasn’t the most popular on a drizzly day, but I could imagine a lively chat happening there during a late spring visit.

After my initial float and soak, I was ready for the low-lit sanctuary, an entirely silent space minus the trickling waterfall fountain flowing into the mineral pool. I encountered three tubs bubbling at various temperatures, from tepid to borderline scalding. I started in the mineral tub; the main mineral is magnesium, which some research suggests could help with skin hydration and skin barrier function. It sits at a temperature pretty dang close to body temp, and I had enough room to float down here, too. Next, a sweat in the electric dry sauna, which hangs out at a satisfyingly toasty 190 degrees Fahrenheit (for context, your average gym sauna sits between 150 and 175). This is not a sauna where you can douse the rocks, which was a bit of a bummer as a certified lover of löyly (the sound and steam that comes from pouring water over sauna stones). After a 15-minute sauna session, it was time for the cold plunge, a walk-in as opposed to a hop-in or climb-in, which can be nice for those who like to work their way to neck-level. I lasted about 90 seconds before making a beeline for the hot tub, then tried again for three minutes pre–steam room. The steam room’s Italian marble benches gave it the feeling of some luxurious Roman bathhouse, though I found myself craving the herbal infusion of the Knot Springs’ wet sauna. A snowy shower of ice pours into a bowl right outside the steam room, so I grabbed a handful to rub against my skin, instead of revisiting the cold plunge. After a quick dip in the ambient tub, I returned to the mineral pool, ready to start all over again.

Even after two cycles downstairs, I still had an hour to go. So I headed back to my day bed, ordered a glass of white wine from the poolside bar, and curled up with my book. I’ll always love my birthday Everett House tradition and the Knot Springs steam room, but when it comes to an afternoon reset, consider me a Cascada convert. 1150 NE Alberta St —Brooke Jackson-Glidden