Monday April, 15, 2019
I did promise it would get worse...
3A: Ring...Ring...Ring... The room phone starts ringing, jarring me out of my sleep. Once my brain registered what it was, I picked up the phone and there was no one there. My next thought was some random wake up call that came to me by mistake.
3:10A: Knock, knock, knock. “Housekeeping.” I yelled back, “are you serious?” Then a different voice said, “Sir, we really need you to come to the door.” I looked through the peephole and saw one guy from the hotel and one sheriff’s deputy. This can’t be good.
So, I opened the door and asked what the problem was. The officer asked, “do you drive a gold Chevy Impala?” I said, “no, I drive a green Honda.” The officer apologized for waking me, but wouldn't tell me what it was all about.
It took a while to finally get back to sleep, but when I awoke at 5A, I knew it was pointless. I showered, packed up my stuff and left the room. Walking back through the casino with my bags, the staff asked how my stay was. My standard response, “you don’t want to know.” It wasn't their fault, so I kept walking. The woman at the front desk was the same one who dealt with me earlier. She offered to comp me breakfast. But, I wasn't going to stick around for another two hours. I gave her the room key and walked out.
And guess what was parked next to my CR-V, a gold colored Chevy Impala.
The goal for the day was Hot Springs and the adjoining national park. The quickest route would have been to travel north and pick up I-40. Or there’s the scenic route. The only concern would be getting there before dark.
In the town of Marvell, I picked up Hwy 1 south through the White River National Wildlife Refuge. In Dewitt, named after former New York Governor Dewitt Clinton, I picked up Hwy 165 towards my first stop of the day.
Arkansas Post National Memorial sits on the site of the first European settlement in the Lower Mississippi River Valley. The French established a trading post on the site in 1686. Over the years, fortifications were built and moved numerous times. When Arkansas Territory was laid out, Arkansas Post was set as its capital.
During the French and Indian War(aka the Seven Year War) the French allied themselves with the Quapaw to fight off the British, who had allied themselves with the Chickasaw. The British raided the post but were eventually driven off. After the war the French ceded the land east of the Mississippi River to Britain. The area west of the river was ceded to Spain.
Spanish King Carlos III decided to take advantage of the American Revolution and declare war on Britain. Spanish troops attacked and drove the British out of Baton Rouge. Three months after their peace treaty was eventually signed, the war came to Arkansas Post.
The British forces had been scattered, but kept up the fight with guerrilla raids. Captain James Colbert led one of these groups. In April, 1783 he decided to attack the fortifications at Arkansas Post. After a six hour siege that resulted in no casualties, he called for the Spanish to surrender. They refused. Fourteen Spanish defenders left the fort and attacked Colbert’s men, yelling Quapaw war cries. The British scattered and ran off.
In 1780, Spain ceded the land back to France.
During the Civil War, the Confederate military built Fort Hindman on the site. It’s purpose was twofold. It would keep the Federals from coming up river to Little Rock as well as reinforce the defense of the lower Mississippi River.
Less than a year after its construction, Federal forces lay siege to the fort, outnumbering the defenders six to one. After three days, the fort fell and the town was in ruins. It never recovered.
As for me, I was just enjoying the early morning on their walking trails.
To continue on my journey, I picked up Hwy 212. It was a curious stretch of road. In some places it was your basic farm road. Some fields were plowed, others flooded.
Another stretch was along a lengthy earthen berm of a dam. The road had no painted lines and you needed to get on the outer edge of your lane to pass oncoming traffic. Eventually, this would bring me to I-67 and Hwy 270.
North of the town of Sheridan sits a memorial. It's a replica of the B-17 that crashed on the site in 1943. It was en route from a training base in Kansas to Florida for deployment in Europe. The plane developed engine trouble and crashed. It's now a memorial site to all those in the Sheridan area who lost their lives in war.
Hwy 270 would bring me right into downtown Hot Springs. The Park Service has hiking trails in the hills behind downtown, and in the mountain north of town. That's where I went first. There's a trail I wanted to check out for the morning. I never actually did the trail. The more I looked at it, the more I knew it would take me most of the day to complete.
Hot Springs from above...
It was still early afternoon when I arrived. There's a free parking garage downtown, so I ditched the car and went in search of a place called the Ohio Club. It's the oldest, continually operational bar in Arkansas. Why the Ohio Club? John Coffee Williams had family in Kentucky, Illinois and Ohio. There was already a well known Illinois Club as well as a Kentucky Club. Thus, when his restaurant opened in 1905, it was named the Ohio Club.
With lunch I tried something called Irish Red Ale. It's from the Superior Bathhouse Brewery across the street. Quite good, actually. This is on the wall back by the restrooms... I'm not sure what they're trying to say.
Two doors down is a place called Pour Some Sugar on Me Sweets. It's candy and ice cream shop. I laughed at the name, but it seemed so wrong. If you don't get the reference, click here:
Seen on the street...
The water fountains downtown are all fed by the natural springs. It's a bit of a shock to stick your hand in the water and expect it to be cool.
As for Hot Springs itself, it's named after a string of natural hot springs. There are forty-seven springs here, producing one million gallons of water every day at an average temperature of 143 degrees.(63 degrees C) The Native Americans considered the springs to have certain healing powers. The first European known to have visited the springs was Hernando DeSoto in 1541. He and his men stayed for a few weeks and also claimed the waters to have healing powers. The French trappers who visited said the same thing. To protect the springs from exploitation, they were designated the first National Reservation in 1832. The site was upgraded to a National Park in 1932.
In the early 1900's bathhouses were constructed over the springs. It's what became known as Bathhouse Row.
This is Buckstaff Baths. They're still open as a spa to enjoy the hot spring waters.
And this is the old Superior Bathhouse, tuned brewery.
My home for the night was the All Seasons Lodge, a pretty basic motel just a half mile walk from Bathhouse Row. Sure, it was definitely showing its age, but there was no drama, no sheriff's deputies and the room was spotless.
After check in, I took a walk back to Bathhouse Row. I stopped into Superior Bathhouse Brewery for a pint before calling it a day. Seen along my walk...
Unlike the previous night, I got a really good night's sleep.
Coming Up,
I make a snap decision and up on twenty-seven miles of bad road, going who knows where
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