What draws us isn't the shimmering resort cities of Palm Springs, Rancho Mirage, Indian Wells, or La Quinta, with their viridescent golf courses, designer stores and general fabulousness. What we want from the desert (besides the stellar winter weather) is the steaming-hot mineral water that's the hallmark of Desert Hot Springs, one of the few towns left in the Coachella Valley that's been bypassed by the development posse, at least until now.

Although founded in 1941 and just minutes north of Palm Springs, DHS somehow was overlooked in the building binge of the past few decades that sent luxe homes and condominiums sprawling down the valley. This tiny, funky town (population 16,500) is tucked against the Little San Bernardino mountains and rests some 1,100 feet off the valley floor, giving it a cooler edge when it comes to sweltering summer temperatures.

But its main claim to fame has always been the huge, hot aquifer 30 to 130 feet underground, where water temperatures range from 90 to 180 degrees. The resulting mineral water brought into the countless hot tubs, pools and spas in the area is renowned for its curative powers and for being free of the stinky, rotten egg-sulphur smell often found at similar geographic locales.

Each year, as we make our escape from L.A., we have a single-minded goal -- to get into that hot water as fast as possible. And, more specifically, to sink into the pools at the Desert Hot Springs Spa Hotel, our favorite area destination.

Oh, you can get fancier for sure, at nearby locations like Two Bunch Palms (featured in director Robert Altman's Hollywood film noir "The Player") or even right next door at the spa's sister resort, Miracle Springs. But for the sheer selection of submersible water -- from hot to not -- at a place that prides itself on its warm and fuzzy demeanor, the Desert Dog, as we affectionately call it, can't be beat.

Leave your attitude at home -- this is not a see and be seen place. Guests come in all shapes, sizes and ages and, because day passes are available just for the pools, there's a faithful local contingent. The family-friendly hotel consists of 50 comfortable but totally average rooms arranged around a huge palm-filled courtyard with eight charming hand-tiled pools of various sizes and temperatures (70-104 degrees). One side of the patio houses a sauna, a beauty salon and various rooms where all manner of massages, wraps and spa treatments are administered, simply, efficiently and economically.

Splashdown

"Let's not mess around," Michael says, as he heads toward the pool that the lifeguard -- the keeper of each pool's temperatures -- has named the hottest.

Without pause, we march down the steps straight into 4 feet of 104-degree water. We gasp, then sigh as the heat begins its run up our bodies, bringing an instant blush to winter-pale cheeks. Sitting on the ledge that runs around the interior of the pool, we settle deeper into the water, until only our faces are poking out. Underwater jets send a soothing stream of water against our spines. Michael's eyes close, his head lolls.

For the rest of the afternoon, our once-hectic routine becomes luxuriously simple. Hot pool, a dunk in the 70-degree "cold" pool, lounge chair, sauna. Grin. Repeat.

To all this external hydrating we add copious amounts of the unbelievably tasty (international award-winning) municipal water that comes pure and untreated from deep wells to a nearby drinking fountain. Soon our driving muscles relax, the family issue muscles aren't far behind, then it all becomes one smooth, soggy ride. 

People-watching qualifies as an activity. On our most recent stay, we looked on as a group of saffron-robed Buddhist monks arrived for a day visit and after they changed, sprinkled themselves about the premises, quietly talking philosophy with curious fellow soakers. A friend remembered the time she was serenaded by a Russian men's chorus who tunefully inhabited one of the larger pools for the better part of an evening. Eavesdropping on the perma-tanned locals gives us an informal report on what's going on in town (real estate, rising).

The towering peaks of Mount San Jacinto and Mount San Gorgonio are usually snow-capped this time of year, and twilight is just heaven. The cool desert air rustles the palms, the moon rises over the mountains and illuminates an impossibly deep blue sky.

The on-premise Sunshine Cafe looks like it wouldn't offer much, but there's everything you could imagine on the menu, from vegetarian fresh fruits, soups and salads, to more carnivorous fare running all the way up to prime rib. Then there are the diet-defying desserts. There are a number of restaurants within walking distance, from Italian to Mexican and Chinese. Nothing fancy, just good. Fancy is also available -- but you have to take a 15-minute drive into Palm Springs.

Hotel nightlife on the weekends consists of karaoke in the hotel's well-worn lounge, a completely laid-back affair where the locals usually show up and sing, putting the rest of us to shame. The kid-friendliness extends here as well, where on our most recent visit, the average age at the microphone was about 14. It's goofy; you can't take it for too long, but then again, the pools are always available, all night long if you wish. We're usually sound asleep by about 10.

Out-of-pool experiences.

Of course, there comes a time where you just can't soak anymore or you explode. That's when we head out and give those newly relaxed muscles something to complain about. Over the years, we've sampled the waterfalls in the canyons near Palm Springs and the gorgeous Coachella Valley overlooks and rock formations of Joshua Tree National Monument, which is just up the road.

Our favorite hike by far is Ladder Canyon, in the 44,000-acre Mecca Hills Recreation Area south of Indio, near the Salton Sea. The canyon lies atop the mighty San Andreas Fault and there the tectonic plates have crushed together to create a slot canyon so narrow and multi-tiered that you have to climb a series of ladders to reach the top.

The hike is always followed by a stop at the Oasis Date Gardens in Thermal, a 175-acre date ranch where an astounding variety of dates are available for sampling and purchase. We never leave without one of the restaurant's ultra-thick date shakes in hand.

Then it's back to the Dog, our bathing suits and more soaking. It's a hedonistic lifestyle we can usually only spare three days to pursue, but the effects are long-lasting.

Desert Hot Springs has recently christened itself "The Spa City," and I fear the day may come when the little mom-and-pop hot-tub motels and the lazy tranquility of the Desert Hot Springs Spa Hotel may fall prey to Corinthian-columned spa "fabulousness." Go now, go quickly, while this classic desert lifestyle is still in bloom.