HOT SPRINGS NATIONAL PARK, Ark. — Before there was aspirin, before there was penicillin, before there was much understanding of medicine at all, people took their healing where they could find it. As often as not, that was in the mineral-laced waters of natural springs.
The "Valley of Vapors" in central Arkansas — now known as Hot Springs National Park — is one of those places.
No one's quite sure when the first people were attracted to these thermally heated waters. Spanish explorer Hernando DeSoto came through the region in 1514. French trappers, hunters and traders knew about the hot springs in the 17th and 18th centuries. Old records show that native tribes visited the area during the late 1700s and early 1800s, and it is possible their ancestors did the same.
When the land became part of the United States with the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, Thomas Jefferson sent an expedition led by William Dunbar and George Hunter to explore the springs. Their report stirred up a lot of interest and more and more people flocked to the area to soak in the unique water.
Such was the interest by the early 1830s that local folks began to worry that the springs might be over-developed and abused. They began pushing for the federal government to "reserve" the springs for the nation.
In 1832, the government did just that — setting aside four sections of the springs in an unprecedented move. It was the first time the government had set aside land simply to protect a natural resource.
Technically, says Hot Springs National Park Superintendent Josie Fernandez, "that makes us the first national park." They get some argument from Yellowstone, of course, since it was the first area to be designated a national park. Hot Springs did not actually get the national park designation until 1921, when it was the 18th park added to the nation's system.
But, points out Fernandez, the Hot Springs Reservation was the first, and if it had not come along, perhaps the whole idea of setting aside land might have been delayed. So, they can be justifiably proud. "We're older than Yellowstone. We're older than the Department of the Interior. This year we are celebrating our 175th anniversary."
Over those 175 years, there have been a lot of changes: rising to become a premiere resort that attracted both the famous and infamous, fading as changing times reduced the appeal of "taking the waters," and now entering a new phase of restoration and development that Fernandez thinks will return the park, if not to its glory years, at least to a once-more sought-after destination.
From the first, the Hot Springs Reservation was a joint venture with the government and private businesses. The government controlled and protected the hot springs themselves, but private enterprises built the increasingly elaborate bathhouses.
There are actually 47 separate hot springs in the area; some 850,000 gallons of water flow from them each day. Now, most of the springs are capped to protect them from pollution and to divert much of the water for other uses. In the early days, crude structures that were little more than tents were built over the springs. These were replaced by wooden buildings, but the constant exposure to water and steam made wood vulnerable; many collapsed or rotted away.
In 1884, the government covered over the creek, put in an elaborate system of pipes — more than seven miles of them — to bring the water to central locations, and Bathhouse Row was born. This development coincided with the arrival of the railroad, which enabled more visitors to come, and they did by the thousands.
Private bathhouses ranged from simple to elaborate. The government offered a free public facility for those who could not afford the private ones.
Many of the first houses along Bathhouse Row were destroyed by fire and were replaced by even grander structures, often built of marble and tile, decorated with polished brass, murals, fountains, statues and even stained glass. The grandest of all was the Fordyce Bath House, built in 1915 — only after its neighbor houses were finished so it could be made even better.
By the early 1920s, Hot Springs was the place to be — not only for those seeking cures for aches, pains, illnesses and other ailments, but also for the rich and famous, who would often come and spend several weeks in the luxurious Arlington Hotel.
Al Capone came on a regular basis. Babe Ruth came one year before the opening of spring training. Rudolph Valentino visited. Presidents and princesses and others all came to Hot Springs.
Competition among the bathhouses became intense. Some would hire folks to ride the train to drum up business, touting the virtues of one house over another — even though the water was basically the same.
Even an Army/Navy hospital was built at the end of Bathhouse Row, and its use of the "medicinal waters" contributed to a boost in the bathing business during and after World War II.
But then things began to change. Modern medicine replaced water therapy. Bathhouses, which by then were showing their age, began to close down one by one. By 1985, only the Buckstaff remained open. The golden era was gone.
Gone — but not forgotten. And in recent years steps have been taken to ensure the preservation and continued prosperity of Hot Springs National Park, says Fernandez. "We're about to enter into another partnership with the private sector to renovate and restore the bathhouses and find new uses for them," she says.
The Fordyce has been restored and turned into the park's visitors center. The Buckstaff still operates as a spa. Other buildings along the Row are being restored and renovated for other uses. The Quapaw will be turned into a modern spa. The Ozark will become a museum of contemporary art. They are looking for other ideas for other buildings. "It's a very exciting time for us," says Fernandez.
If you visit Hot Springs National Park today, the place to start is at the Fordyce. There you get a clear picture of what the place was like in its heyday.
You can see the splendor of the Italian marble and the stained glass. You can visit the wood-paneled gymnasium on the upper floor and see the elegant piano gallery. All of the women's side and some of the men's side of the bathing areas are outfitted with the furniture and equipment of the time: steam cabinets, Zander mechano-therapy equipment, tubs, massage tables, sitz tubs, Hubbard tub, chiropody tools, hydrotherapy equipment.
It's fun to see it all — but if you want to try it out, you can do that, too. The Buckstaff Bathhouse and the Arlington and several other hotels still offer the old-fashioned treatments.
It might go something like this: a thermal bath, where you soak in hot mineral water churned up by an eggbeater-like apparatus. (The water from the springs comes out at about 143 degrees F, but it is cooled to about 105 degrees for the baths.) After the soak, you lie on hot towels, with a cold towel wrapped around your face. The contrast is interesting.
Next comes a session in the steam cabinet — you sit in the box, with your head sticking out the top — and can't help but think of the old Daffy Duck cartoons that used these things. It's all funky and fun — not to mention warm and steamy.
Then you take the "needle shower," which is pretty much like any other shower, except you have water coming from a couple of extra shower heads. After that, you get wrapped in a bath sheet and are sent to a darkened cooling room to power down, meditate and await a massage, which, when it comes, is done Swedish-style. It all feels quite wonderful, and if it doesn't heal what ails you, it at least chases the world away for a couple of hours.
If all this isn't your cup of tea, at the very least, you can sample the water — or "quaff the elixir" as they said back when drinking it was as much a part of taking the waters as soaking in it. Although it is odorless, colorless and flavorless, it is loaded with trace minerals, and all kinds of claims have been made about its ability to sooth and heal.
You can fill up a cup or a jug at the Noble Fountain at the south end of the Grand Promenade that runs along Bathhouse Row.
Not only is Hot Springs National Park an old one, at just over 5,800 acres, it is also one of the smallest parks. Still, there is more to it than Bathhouse Row. More than 26 miles of hiking trails criss-cross the hills and mountains behind the Row.
Back in the day, several of these were part of medicinal regimens recommended by physicians. Back then, local stables rented horses for riding on the trails, and carriage and auto tours to the tower on top of Hot Springs Mountain were popular.
You can still hike — or drive — to Hot Springs Mountain Tower, and from the top of the tower not only learn more about the heyday of the bathhouses but also get gorgeous views of the countryside in all directions.
Another unique thing about the park is that it is in the middle of a city. People coming to the hot springs to take the baths needed places to stay and to eat, so businesses grew up around the springs and the bathhouses.
In fact, in 1921, when Hot Springs National Park was officially designated, the people decided to make that the official name of the city, too. So, how do you know if you are in Hot Springs National Park, the park, or National Hot Springs Park, the city? It can be confusing, admits Fernandez. "But the city and park are two separate things."
The city that has grown up around the park is full of charm, history, art galleries, antiques shops and little cafes. It is less touristy than you might expect. It is home to a variety of music, jazz and documentary film festivals throughout the year.
Venture off the main drag and you can find plenty of other activities and adventures, from hiking and horseback riding in the mountains, to sailing and boating on one of several lakes, to visiting the outstanding botanical offerings at Garvin Woodland Gardens, to watching horse racing at Oaklawn, which itself is more than 100 years old.
Still, it is the water that is the main attraction in Hot Springs. And well it should be. Few places on Earth offer water like this. Scientists have determined that the water that bubbles out of the springs each day is some 4,000 years old, having journeyed from the skies deep into the Earth and back again.
As it goes deeper, it gets hotter — about 4 degrees F for every 300 feet down, they'll tell you. There are no volcanoes in this area, and thus no sulfur smell. It is all done by geothermal action. As the water seeps downward, its heat dissolves minerals in the rocks, giving it the mineral content. Eventually it seeps into joints and cracks that lead it back up to the surface at the base of Hot Springs Mountain.
So, there's something to ponder as you sit and soak. This very water dates back to the time of the Egyptian pyramids. Let that boggle your mind while it wrinkles your skin.
• Carma Wadley visited Hot Springs as a guest, in part, of the Hot Springs Convention & Visitors Bureau. For more information, call 1-800-922-6478 or visit www.hotsprings.org. For more information on Hot Springs National Park, e-mail HOSP_Interpretation@nps.gov; call 501-624-2701 or visit www.nps.gov/hosp.
E-mail: carma@desnews.com