Las Vegas Sun

March 28, 2024

Viva, Idaho: Holiday tales of hot baths, a sweat lodge and a volunteer greeter

Idaho

John Katsilometes

A look at the Lava Hot Springs Inn, at the entrance of the town of that name about 120 miles north of Salt Lake City. The town was founded in 1911 and has a populatoin of about 500.

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Main Street in Lava Hot Springs, Idaho. No stoplights, still, and stop signs were put up just 25 years ago.

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Columnist John Katsilometes plays comedian Martin Short like a set of bagpipes during Short's show at the Mirage on Friday, June 29, 2012.

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LAVA HOT SPRINGS, Idaho — The Kats Report Bureau has been ensconced in a variety of locations during the past year. I’ve written while watching NFL action at the sports book at Wynn Las Vegas, observing medical action at the ICU at Spring Valley Hospital and under the dome light of the passenger’s seat of KatMobile III as my buddy Jerry Jones drove us back from Glendale, Calif., after watching Steve Martin interview Martin Short.

Now it’s the breakfast nook at Lava Hot Springs Inn, my father’s business at the entrance of the resort that rests about 120 miles north of Salt Lake City, a few miles off I-15. Or, driving in from the north, it’s about 30 miles southeast of Pocatello, home of Idaho State University and a hub for the Union Pacific Railroad. Pocatello is called the Gate City because of its long history of rail service.

It should be no revelation that this area is a counterbalance to the happenings in Las Vegas. Whenever I tell someone in Idaho that I live in Vegas, I get this look that says, “Wow! It talks!”

The morning after attending the premiere of “Steve Wynn’s Showstoppers” and attending a press conference on the stage of Encore Theater, I had flown into Boise and then drove through heavy winds across the state toward Pocatello (the crisscrossing road trip made necessary as my family lives in both of those cities). I stopped at the Garden of Eden market, truck stop and gas station, just off I-86 near the town of Eden.

The place is magic, filled with such necessities as stocking hats, down jackets, Dickies jeans and shirts and full entertainment systems that can be set up inside the cabin of a big rig. You could actually do all of your Christmas shopping at the Garden of Eden.

When I walked out, a guy who seemed not to be an employee was at the door and wished me a Merry Christmas. He was like a volunteer greeter, performing the same sort of customer service as the folks at the entrance of Westgate and SLS Las Vegas. Except, instead of a dark suit and nametag, he wore a down vest and a Boise State Broncos hat.

He’s the sort of character who would be a good fit in “Idaho!” the musical Keith Thompson has been writing for the past decade or so.

The first end of this trip, every year, is a pilgrimage to Lava. Every time I travel from Las Vegas to this little town that really seems on another planet, I remember what comedienne Rita Rudner once said about Vegas: “It is the opposite of everywhere.”

Lava is a place where you can walk to a grocery mart, and Mike’s Market is that market, in your pajamas. In fact, they don’t even need to be your pajamas. They can belong to your dad. I’ve spent four consecutive days not shaving just because it hasn’t occurred to me. The town has a listed population of 407, but Dad insists that 500 folks live here.

At times, it seems the entire town is hanging out at the Inn, and Dad is sort of like the Steve Wynn of Lava. This man is involved in all facets of his property, including the construction of a new sweat lodge-teepee structure that is heated by natural mineral water rising from a nearby well.

Dad also hires musicians from Idaho State Civic Symphony to perform at special events on a stage under a canopy near the opening of the outdoor hot baths. The support of great live entertainment has always been a passion in our family, whether it is performed at Encore Theater or the steamy poolside in Lava.

I am trying to find the great ventriloquist of this area and book that person for New Year’s Eve.

As I walk into the entrance of the inn, I am met with two framed, autographed photos given to my dad that remind me of home. One is a Claire Sinclair “Pin Up” calendar; the other is of Skye Dee Miles. Guests often ask us about those photos. Sometimes Dad will post columns about Las Vegas, and his customers become very inquisitive about our city.

You get the usual question: “Do you live on the Strip?” “No, but I can see the Stratosphere from my porch.”

In those columns, I often refer to Las Vegas as VegasVille. I’m a small-town person, having grown up in Pocatello and Chico, Calif. We do have a sense of community in Las Vegas, a place that has engendered an otherworldly image but really is tightly connected.

Funny, in the nearly 20 years I have lived in Las Vegas, I have never spent Christmas Day in the city.

I can only say that I hope you are experiencing love and warmth, wherever you are. And now it is time to soak.

Follow John Katsilometes on Twitter at Twitter.com/JohnnyKats. Also, follow “Kats With the Dish” at Twitter.com/KatsWiththeDish.

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