Hot Springs and the Ozarks

Hot Springs National Park, AR

Confused because the GPS guided me to a town instead of a National Park, and because I couldn’t find the visitor center even though I drove directly to the address, and because the only Ranger station I could find was closed, I decided to drive straight to the Hot Springs campground. Maybe there I could make sense of my surroundings. Besides, I knew I needed to get there early if I wanted to camp because they didn’t take reservations.

When I got to the campground, it was a sea of RV’s. I don’t normally mind camping among RV’s, even though they usually have generators that wipe out any feeling of being in the wilderness, but this campground was laid out just like a parking lot. And it was very crowded. I found a Ranger and asked him where the visitor center for the park was. He gave me the address – the same one I had been to – and said it was one of the bathhouses on Bathhouse Row. LOL.

Hot Springs National Park is not like any other. It is, in fact, a town, known for its hot springs of course, but more widely known for the bathhouses that were created back in the late 1800s and early 1900s to service the mafia. Ella and I returned to town and went to the visitor center bathhouse to pick up a map of hiking trails. I decided there and then we would find a more primitive place to camp for the night.

I chose nearby Lake Catherine State Park. It was a pretty park and very well-maintained, but I didn’t know it was a power-generating lake. On the far shore, the focal point was a shiny, purring, well-lit power plant. When I didn’t look in that direction, I could pretend I was more or less in nature.

Our campsite was on the edge of the lake, which was very low for a lack of rain. Each site had a dock, but they were all on dry land – it made for interesting exploration. There were crazy-looking, gnarled tree roots sticking up through the sediment and an enormous driftwood root ball that intrigued Ella. The sun was setting, and the moon rose full and bright, reflecting over the water.

In the middle of the lake was a small island loaded with geese that honked enthusiastically and constantly. Flying in and out and lobbying for position with each other, they were a constant source of entertainment for me and Ella. They never stopped honking. In the middle of the night, when one would honk, all of them would honk. It would create a honking frenzy, and they did this every hour or so, all night long. Their zest for honking was comical and amusing, maybe even motivating. Even with the winter chill in the air, the moon shining brightly, and the impromptu goose sing-alongs, I slumbered sweetly.

Now that I had a better handle on what to expect, the following morning we went back to Hot Springs National Park. We started off at the visitor center where I left Ella tied outside in the care of a park volunteer, and I ran in and did a quick self-tour of the bathhouse museum. It was fascinating! There were four different floors for bathing, therapy, and restoration, and a roof garden for socializing. The curated pictures gave a great idea of what it was like back in the day, and it was quite an event, for sure. Each level had a different function. One was more social, one was therapeutic, one was for individual bathing with dressing rooms and a bathtub in each room. These bathhouses were not community pools like the Turkish baths of yore. It was very obviously an upscale, social, yet private activity. Here the rich and famous found healing and conducted business while fraternizing with mobsters. Today, Bathhouse Row has seven or so bathhouses still on display. Some are museums, but the rest are still fully operational.

Along with feeding the bathhouses, the springs bubble up in several steamy fountains around town. A steady flow of people fill jugs and bottles at all times of day and night. The water is 137 degrees, so you can make a cup of tea straight from the spring. I filled up my water jugs and let them cool before drinking.

Hot Springs National Park is pretty cute. Pretty small. Pretty well preserved. But definitely a city. There are several trails that run up the mountain through the park, all within view of the town, hidden poorly by trees. There are a few scenic drives that switch back and forth through the mountain to make the most of the land area. Scenic overlooks of the Ouachita Mountains have distant views of stores, warehouses, and construction sites.

After the scenic drives, Ella and I went on a few hiking trails. To my delight, fog had rolled in and obscured any visible traffic and shrouded the town below from view. Our favorite hike was the Sunset Trail, amazingly thick with moss and lichens that covered large rocks and tall trees. It was an excellent way to end our visit to Hot Springs.

Ozark Mountains, AR

Before heading south, I wanted to visit my son in Kansas, and that would take me on a northern route through Arkansas. Wonderful! I could do some brief exploring in the Ozark Mountains. After reading a few blogs, I chose several waterfalls that I wanted to see and mapped them out using my GPS. It’s around 20 degrees and snow from a recent storm was covering the forest floors and tree branches, but the roads are clear.

The drive through the Ozarks was beautiful and there were very few other people on the road. In fact, the only other vehicles I saw were two snowplows. Odd, I thought, since the roads are clear. As I turned off the main road into the National Forest, the paved road turned to dirt. I had about 20 miles to drive to the first waterfall. It would be slow going.

I was feeling pretty adventurous knowing that I had many miles to travel on this forest road, and as is typical, the more interior I went, the worse the road got. Erosion turned the road into a washboard with divets, potholes, and minor washouts in low-lying areas. The road was wet because of the melting snow.

I started to feel a bit of trepidation but exhilaration at the same time. I was super thankful that I had my Subaru and that I had a rooftop tent and not a trailer or an RV for this excursion. I was really excited about the possibility of being in the sho-nuff wilderness. I had sought out an uncultivated landscape the whole time I was in Hot Springs, and now I was getting a major dose of it.

Snow started to show itself on the road now, not just on the sides of the road. I got out to assess the situation and realized that everywhere it looked wet was really a layer of ice. I started to feel just a little concerned – I had been traveling on a layer of ice this whole time. Even more invigorated, I kept going.

I came across downed trees that a Ranger had cut up a day or so before, sawdust still fresh on the road. I could tell the tire tracks on the road were fresh, and even though I was worried about sliding, and I was on a very narrow road that had a steep uphill on one side and a steep downhill on the other, I felt confident that if a Ranger had gone ahead of me, I was also safe.

I felt safe until I came upon some large rocks that had freshly fallen onto the road. They were not covered in snow and the tire tracks did not go around them. My GPS had me turn onto another County Road, and it got even rougher. Now the snow was a couple of inches thick on the road, and there were no tire tracks, so I wasn’t completely assured I would be OK. I couldn’t see what was under the snow, so I didn’t know how stable the road was. It was very narrow with a steep fall on one side and the possibility of rockslides on the other.

Branches and small trees had fallen that I had to maneuver around. I was starting to feel more than apprehension now. My hands were sweating, and I had to take deep breaths to keep the oxygen flowing, reminding myself to breathe. I would find my lips pursed and my eyes dry from not blinking. I was holding my breath again. I would take a deep breath and tell myself, “You’ve got this; you’ve come this far; you’ve got all the equipment you need if something bad happens; you can change a tire; you have lots of warm clothes; you have your satellite communication device; you have plenty of food and water; you have enough gas to keep the car running for warmth if needed; and you have trusty Ella.” While I normally love solo adventuring, having another warm body with you does wonders for bravery.

I had to cross a one-lane bridge over a stream, and the view was beautiful. I wanted to get out and take pictures, but I didn’t dare stop. My phone, whose GPS I knew was working on memory, had no cell service, even with my signal booster. Deer ran across the road in front of me. More rocks and branches had fallen onto the roadway, and I either had to go over them or around them. Either choice could be dangerous.

I am inexperienced and out of my league here. I am not an outdoorsperson, nor an overlander, and I have never been on trips with anyone who is. I’m learning on my own. I’m not really sure what my capabilities are or those of my car. At that moment, I was super glad I had chosen the Crosstrek, which is all-wheel drive and has a higher clearance than other comparable cars. More self-talk. More continuing to breathe. More reassuring myself that I can take care of myself if something bad happens.

It was getting colder, and the sun was bright even though it was lowering in the sky, so the snow was continually melting and freezing. A bank of gray stratus clouds was on the horizon. I started wondering if it weren’t supposed to snow again. Weather in the mountains can be tricky and unpredictable.

After two tremulous hours in the forest with no sign of civilization, I pass a farm, and tire tracks reappear in the road. As soon as I see tire tracks, I start to feel more assured, and my confidence floods back. Even though I see no people, only cattle in the fields, I know I will make it without incident. Pretty suddenly, the road turns from snow back into wet dirt.

The funny thing is, I never saw a single waterfall.

All in all, it was an exhilarating yet terrifying trip through the mountains. I’m super glad I did it! I’m super sorry I didn’t get any pictures! Even when I passed the farm and turned onto a paved road, I had no cell service. Fortunately, I have some good maps, and I navigated my way to the Interstate that leads to my son.

After all that – the very narrow roads, the switchbacks, the ups and downs, and the gorgeous, awe-inspiring, and intimidating views of mountains all around me – I decided it was time for a long stretch of dry, flat land. Kansas here I come!