Rancho La Puerta

Labyrinths and rhythm:

My jazzy week at Rancho La Puerta

I came for the jazz. I stayed for the exercise and renewal.

Rancho La Puerta, an 85-year-old wellness retreat set against the slopes of Mount Kuchumaa in Tecate, Mexico, has always been a place of reinvention. Founded by Deborah and Edmond Szekely as a natural-living experiment rooted in vegetables, vigorous hikes, and Sumerian-style mud baths, the Ranch has evolved with the times. Today, it’s less about shedding pounds than shedding everything else: phones, stress, expectations, and the digital noise that trails us everywhere.

The Ranch celebrated its 85th anniversary last year, which seems implausible until you meet its 103-year-old founder, Deborah Szekely, who still speaks about wellness with the conviction of someone who helped invent the category.

This was my third visit, timed to coincide with Jazz Week, an annual gathering of world-class musicians. This year’s trio — pianist Billy Childs, trumpeter Sean Jones, and bassist Ben Williams — was reason enough to cross the border. Alongside luminous interpretations of jazz standards, we were treated to original compositions.

The Ranch’s magic arrives in layers: early-morning hikes, communal meals, desert winds whispering through the trees, and the quiet sensation that you’ve stepped outside your life and back into your body. The jazz performances were the sweet icing on the cake.

Crossing into another pace

My friend Laurence Hauben, a chef and culinary guide, joined me, eager for movement of any kind. We drove from San Diego to the Tecate border, where securing Mexican tourist visas became a small scavenger hunt involving unmarked offices and a bank visit. Laurence, unable to detach from her phone, was promptly scolded by the Federales for texting in a NO PHONE zone, a fitting prelude.

At the Ranch, the phone is the first thing you’re asked to put away.

A short walk across the border and we boarded a bus with others for the 15-minute bus ride to the Ranch. A mix of newcomers and devoted regulars, some had dozens of previous visits under their belts. Over our first garden-fresh meal, conversations began easily. By week’s end, many would feel like old friends. People don’t merely return here; they orbit back.

That first night, after studying the map of the 4,000-acre property and the dense menu of daily classes, fatigue set in quickly. Laurence got lost navigating the garden paths back to our casita, and I fell asleep before 9 p.m. A classic Ranch initiation.

Finding a New Rhythm

Mornings begin early. On day one, I joined the 6:45 a.m. Woodland Hike, the trail easy, the air cool and expectant. Breakfast followed — a technicolor spread of papaya, pineapple, chilaquiles, oatmeal, and fresh juices — before guests scattered to yoga, meditation, lectures, or one of the pools. I chose meditation (briefly interrupted by a rogue phone alarm), then an energizing Reformer Pilates session, followed by sound healing, where crystal bowls sent shimmering vibrations through the room.

Dinners, often enjoyed outdoors, highlighted vegetables grown on the property alongside simply prepared fish. That evening’s jazz concert, “Songs of Love,” set the tone for the week. Wrapped in blankets and seated on yoga mats and chairs, inside the architecturally stunning Oaktree Pavilion, we were mesmerized by the trio’s fine versions of “Misty,” “In a Sentimental Mood,” and a fiery “Cherokee.”

A week of contrasts

As the days unfolded, a comforting rhythm emerged: salsa dancing one morning, a lecture the next. A standout spa experience was my “Energy Medicine” session with practitioner Jonelle Rutkauskas who quietly reset my internal circuitry while providing sage advice. At the other end of the spectrum, a trash-can percussion movement class invited us to “bang on a drum and feel better” — a joyful, noisy release.

Bay Area friends Carl and Thea and I took a mid-week, day trip to Valle de Guadalupe wine country, where winter sunlight washed over vineyards. We returned just in time for impromptu jazz at the Ranch’s Bazaar Sol wine bar, including an original tune Sean Jones composed that week, inspired by former longtime Ranch host extraordinaire, Brandee Waite. I, in turn, scribbled drafts of lyrics throughout the week that may or may not see the light of day.

One evening, the Ranch gathered to hear Deborah Szekely speak alongside her lovely, soft-spoken daughter, Sarah Brightwood. Deborah recalled the early days — makeshift huts, stubborn soil, and the sacred presence of Mount Kuchumaa. Listening felt like leaning toward a rare flame, a living link to the origins of modern wellness culture.

Departure time

By Friday, the air subtly shifted. Meals lingered. Email addresses were exchanged. The lush gardens and winding paths seemed sharper, as if asking to be remembered. Saturday arrived too soon. After a final breakfast and a few tearful hugs, we reentered the world of traffic, notifications, and to-do lists.

Rancho La Puerta offers themed weeks year-round, but Jazz Week is singular: a collision of physical renewal and artistic immersion. Rancho La Puerta isn’t simply a spa. It’s an antidote — a reminder that life can move more slowly, more intentionally, and with far more music than we usually allow.

Rancho La Puerta is a pause, a clearing, a deep breath held in the shadow of a sacred mountain — released slowly, with gratitude. Its magic has a way of pressing “reset” on your entire nervous system.

My weeklong deep breath, held in the shadow of a sacred mountain, was released slowly and with gratitude. I cannot wait to return.

Rancho La Puerta Wellness Resort and Spa, 1-800-443-7565.
www.rancholapuerta.com

–By Leslie Andrea Westbrook

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