Grover’s Hot Springs as a possible cure for loneliness

By

Carol Schaye

(Isolation and loneliness have been a cause of human suffering throughout history, however, studies indicate that they are at an all-time high)

The Covid pandemic left many of us with a feeling of isolation and loneliness. Not that no one wanted to be our friends but our fun social circles had disappeared. Working from home was fun in the beginning until it wasn’t. E-mail and Zoom kept us going but not really. Nothing feels better than a hug from a friend who understands your situation. The benefit of not having a supervisor who knows less than you is initially great but eventually you find yourself alone behind a computer, wishing for a cup of tea with a coworker or friend.

Let’s not pretend that the culture returned to the prior pandemic because it didn’t. Several things were revealed during COVID-19 i.e. unequal pay, class systems in the USA we wished didn’t exist, an economic system that favored some and not others, and health care which favored the wealthier amongst us.

Our lack of preparedness for a pandemic and equal health care and support for all was exposed. (Waiters, nurses, check-out cashiers), the pandemic exposed how we valued these folks. Their babies were as important to them as ours were to us.

So now it has passed and as we heal there are things we can do to rebuild our community and assist our neighbors recover. The recovery is not over. We have been left with an epidemic of, “Loneliness”. Not physical loneliness but existential loneliness, the most painful kind there is.

• In difficult times of existential loneliness the social, spiritual, and natural world can provide solace.
• Individual and collective loss and trauma in later life can lead to existential isolation and loneliness.
• How can we rebuild our sense of self and include the realization that even in the shadow of loss, how can one continue to live fully?
• Loss and trauma are an inevitable part of later life, it is possible to move forward, and live fully carrying our losses and empty spaces with us.

Loss is inevitable in life, particularly as we age. We may lose loved ones, we may lose our health and stamina, we may lose a sense of purpose in life, and we may lose an image of being self-developed and shaped in early life. Later life losses take many forms. These losses often lead to feelings of anxiety, isolation, and isolation. Isolation and loneliness have been a cause of human suffering throughout history, however, studies indicate that they are at an all-time high, especially in later adulthood. Studies tell us that for 15 to 30 % of the population, loneliness is a chronic state; for those over 65 years 40 % state that they are lonely regularly.

Acute pain, chronic illness, loss of social and professional roles, and death of loved ones, are all too common later life experiences. Attempts to cope with these traumas can lead to feelings of being alone in the world, a sense of isolation, meaninglessness, a loss of a sense of self, feelings of self-alienation, and an increased awareness of and anxiety about mortality. The impact of multiple loss and trauma can lead to existential loneliness (EL). Existential loneliness is related to social and emotional isolation and loneliness but is, in fact, a deeper more subjective state that undermines the fundamental meaning and purpose in life. EL threatens the most fundamental part of the psyche.

Existential loneliness can result from the accumulation of multiple losses, particularly those over which one has no control, losses that can lead to helplessness and despair. Such losses can lead one to feel disconnected from life as we know it– from our family and friends, from our passions, and our personal and professional interests, even from our sense of self. If we experience such existential loneliness, it can be accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of being cut off from others, from society, and the natural world. EL also leads to a lack of purpose and meaning in life.

In the past four years, three of my best, smartest, and funniest friends died either during or right after the pandemic. All three were artists of one type or another who shared my quirky irreverent style.

I was left sitting behind my computer writing journalism and short fiction. Both forms of writing were exciting, interesting, and informative. Zoom allowed me to meet people I interviewed during the pandemic some of whom remain friends now.

The pandemic has passed (we think). So now what to do?

Exhausted, confused, and missing my buddies I decided to make a short trip from Reno (where I live) to Markleeville, California, where I used to live, to visit Grover Hot Springs. Once a sacred curative Native American Spring it had become a state park hidden in a valley surrounded by mountains. I convinced a friend who had never even been in a hot tub (what type of childhood do people have?), to drive with me in my RV the hour and twenty minutes from Reno to the Hot Springs just to view it. There had been a fire in the area and the springs had been closed for two years.

When we reached Carson City I asked my friend to turn onto Jack’s Valley Road, which runs parallel to 395 for a while. After living in Northern Nevada for twenty-five years he had never been on Jack’s Valley Road. Left over from the early settler days there are still ranches with cattle and horses grazing along the side of the Sierra mountains. Real ranches with a whole bunch of cattle, run by real ranchers. Some of the houses are still older but as is the case everywhere newcomers found Jack’s Valley Road. It retains that calm beauty along the Sierra with grazing livestock, and old barns still filled with hay and grain. As we drove slowly (the speed limit is about 35mph) I could feel myself calming a bit. It is impossible to be too nutsy while driving Jacks Valley Road. My companion was genuinely in awe of the beauty he did not know was so close to Reno. (40 miles).

Driving along Jack’s Valley Road we came to the first settlement in Nevada. The charming (kind of knows its charming) town of Genoa. The settlement of the first permanent trading post was established by a group of Mormon traders from Salt Lake City in 1851. A few antique shops, really decent restaurants, a bar or two a grocery store and you continue your adventure back in time. Don’t blink or you’ll miss Genoa. We continued through town with a population hovering over 900, careful to keep our eyes out for mule deer grazing in the fields along with cattle and horses.

Nevada’s oldest Saloon in Genoa, Nevada

The Pink House was considered terrific in days gone by (This is not an endorsement because I haven’t been back in a while)

Continuing on  what now became Foothill Road we arrived at “Wally’s Hot Springs”. We decided to find out about hours and cost. Maybe on our way back from our trip to Grover (which I was certain was still closed), we might spend some time at Wally’s.

Wally’s Hot Springs, Hot Tubs varying from   98 degrees to 104 degrees. In the background is a heated pool

Wally’s cost fifty-five dollars for an all-day (morning to nighttime stay). There are two restaurants, showers, and a bar on the property. When I stopped in to look around people were sitting in the hot tubs of varying temperatures, with wine glasses in their hands, in 42-degree weather outside. It looked upscale but not off-putting. I have been to Wally’s many times in years gone by, even sitting in a hot tub during snowstorms. Often skiers end their days at the hot springs which is one way to meet and begin socializing again after the isolation of the pandemic. When I frequented Wally’s many years ago several of my coworkers, who also worked for the State of Nevada, had monthly memberships (Much less upscale then) and I formed several friendships through Wally’s.

Should you have too much to drink, Wally’s now has rooms for rent available.

Revisiting this lovely area so close to Reno, with someone who had never seen it, was already cracking my shell of loneliness. I was sharing this place with a friend. As we continued on our journey toward Grover I could feel myself losing some of that existential isolation. My companion was so taken by the beauty of a place less than an hour outside of Reno, that he had never known, he was excitedly vocalizing about its beauty and he is a quiet country fellow who doesn’t say much.

Driving along Foothill Road there were changes I expected were coming. Upscale houses dotted the landscape and settled amongst the remaining ranches (there was still plenty of ranch land left). When I moved to Nevada thirty years ago people in Lake Tahoe referred to us as “Flatlanders”, those who lived in this valley. Not so much anymore. I looked up the prices for some of these homes and they were close to or over one million dollars. Perhaps I should have bought some land there but we were entering California and I liked Nevada’s taxes and Nevada’s vibe. The drive was still exceptional only to get better as we approached Emigrant Trail.

I lived in the Woodford Inn for a year, had coffee with Garth the owner on my days off, met local artists and was welcomed to my new life.

I lived in the Woodford Inn for a year, had coffee with Garth the owner on my days off, met local artists and was welcomed to my new life.

Once driving along the Emigrant trail, when I lived in Woodford, California at the Woodford’s INN, I had to pull my car over to allow the ranchers to move their cattle toward Sacramento for the winter. The entire scene was out of a flick, Cowboys on horses, herding dogs, and me a recent New York City transplant returning from a day at Wally’s. Flashbacks were coming, comforting and reminding me that sitting alone behind a computer is not all there is post-pandemic.

View from the Woodford’s Inn, where I lived for a year

Markleeville General Store

Markleeville, California the road to Grover Hot Springs

As we crossed over into California the landscape remained the same. The large beautiful cattle ranch that had drawn me to the area was still there. The serenity is what was curing me, reminding me that there are endless adventures to be had and endless friends to be made. I knew no one when I moved out west but created an entirely exciting life anyway and no pandemic was going to put an end to that unless I decided I wanted it to. I was reminded of all the amazing adventures available to me to meet new people and have new adventures if I would only get out from behind my computer. (I get it, it’s tiring we are all tired, so assume we are all tired and give it your best shot). We turned onto the route heading toward Markleeville, passing through Woodfords where I had lived in a motel for a year when I first moved here in 1989. The owner, Garth McCormack embraced me, getting me an Alpine County Arts Grant, in which I wrote a story about a young up-and-coming artist, Jack Mollotte for the local newspaper. Flashbacks weren’t painful they were reminders of kindness from people who were just getting to know me.

Markleeville, California, turnoff for Grover Hot Springs

Driving the road through Markleeville was a bit painful for me. It is an exquisite small town located in forest in which I saw bears and wild cats after coming home from work. I wondered how these fabulous animals survived what was again another out-of-control fire which had kept Grover Hot Springs closed to the public for the past two year.

Taking the turnoff, up toward Grover Hot Springs, my friend was continuing his unusual excitement about the beauty of the area we were traveling, the trees, the river, the wilderness beauty, “I could live here”, he said. I have lived there so I know why it is so appealing. I had taken a risk many years ago and left New York City, not because I didn’t love it but because I couldn’t make it there (as they say). Woodfords and Markleeville were exactly what I needed and I suspect there are places like them still around for those with existential loneliness. You have to get out of the house.

Finally, as we drove the wooded road along a river, we arrived at Grover Hot Springs. Much to my surprise it was opened for limited hours for people with reservations. Much to my dismay there was an hour and a half opening coming up in ten minutes if we wanted it. What? The cost at Grover is (see below)

Grover has one large hot springs tub. The temperature is the hottest at the top end and lowers consistently as you head toward the end near the field. There are rooms to change into your bathing suit and cubby holes to leave your towels and keys in a small shed next to the hot pool. There is a cool swimming pool (about 64 degrees) on the other side of the complex and you can go back and forth. As for me, 64 degrees is 20 degrees too cold.

Hot Spring Pool Rules

Reservations must be made at least 48 hours in advance and up to 3 weeks in advance. Make reservations at ReserveCalifornia.com and click on “Activities”.

A reserved session includes 1.5 hours of access to the pool complex, including any restroom or shower time. You may not enter the pool complex before your session begins, and you must exit the pool complex when your session is over. If you arrive late for your session, you still must exit when your session ends. Please arrive at the park at least 15 minutes before your session to allow time for check-in and for possible lines of vehicles.

Available sessions are:

Fees for ONE SESSION are $10 for adults, and $5 ages 0-16.

You may reserve up to 2 sessions per day, if available. Up to 8 people are allowed per reservation. If you reserve back-to-back sessions, you must exit the pool for the 30 minutes between sessions while lifeguards are performing tests and maintenance of the facility. Visitors may not remain in a pool unless a lifeguard is monitoring.

We however got an open space as we entered the beautiful hot springs located along the sierras. A fire had ruined some of the mountains but not a lot.

No sooner had I sunken in the hot springs than I began to have a feeling of ‘It will be OK’. I counted about five different languages being spoken, all people with stories if you wanted to meet. I wanted to meet. I found myself laughing out loud for the first time in quite a while. The lifeguard was local and since I had lived there we knew people in common. He was very funny, then began handing out free bottles of water for everyone, saying, ‘I get tired of filling out the paperwork when people pass out dehydrated.’ If it felt too hot I sat on the side of the pool at 42-degree temperature until I was ready to dunk again. My companion was in bliss. A double blessing for me, I was feeling better than I had felt for months and a friend was having an amazing experience thanks to me.

Our drive home was very quiet. We agreed to spend New Year’s Day at Wally’s to continue our exploration of things to do to combat loneliness post-pandemic.

(This is the first in a series of interesting things to do to break the isolation post-pandemic, please submit articles to methodvideo2@att.net)

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