Day 6 started before 7 AM and may have been one of the most peaceful mornings of the trip so far.
We left Gulpha Gorge Campground on foot and hiked two miles down to Bathhouse Row. The trail was absolutely serene. Birds chattering. Squirrels fussing. I’m pretty sure they were discussing the two humans wandering through their neighborhood before breakfast.
The hike itself was considerably more technical than yesterday’s walk across the Mississippi River. Plenty of roots, rocks, elevation changes, and places where you had to pay attention. But the real challenge was the final 200 yards.
The trail suddenly decided it no longer believed in moderation.
Nearly straight downhill.
Part hiking trail.
Part drainage ditch.
Part staircase.
It was one of those descents where you realize gravity is in charge, and you’re just hoping for a good outcome. I had the help of trekking poles. Susan faced it unaided.
It was a fantastic way to start the day.
The Buckstaff Experience
We arrived at the Buckstaff Bathhouse shortly after opening. If you want to “take the waters”, this is the only way. They don’t do reservations. Even arriving at opening, there was a line and the Massages were sold out. We couldn’t get the full package we intended to purchase. So we settled for just the “bath”.
The Buckstaff has been operating continuously since 1912, making it the only bathhouse on Bathhouse Row that has never stopped offering traditional thermal bathing services. More than a century later, we were following essentially the same process our great-grandparents would have experienced. Kinda.
Walking inside felt less like entering a modern spa and more like stepping into a medical facility from a bygone era.
The closest comparison I can make is the hydrotherapy room from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
Steam.
Valves.
Pipes.
Old marble.
The whirring of industrial fans.
The sort of place where it feels like someone is about to prescribe hydrotherapy for ANYTHING that ails you.
The attendants move you through a sequence of stations that includes a whirlpool bath, loofa scrub, sitz bath, steam (Vapor) cabinet, and hot packs. The entire operation runs with an efficiency that can only come from performing the same routine thousands of times over the last century.
The marble is worn white and gray.
The fixtures are old.
The building feels every bit of its 110-plus years.
And that’s both its charm and its limitation.
One unexpected benefit was that my cell phone was locked away in a locker for two hours.
No alerts.
No texts.
No emails.
No weather checks.
No scrolling.
No photographing every moment for the blog.
Just hot water, steam, marble, and whatever thoughts happened to wander through my head. Scary.
We spend so much of modern life filling every spare moment with a screen that I often forget what it feels like to simply sit and be present.
Oddly enough, that may have been the most therapeutic part of the entire experience.
As for the bath itself?
I’d rate it a solid 7 out of 10.
I’m glad I did it.
I don’t regret it.
But if I were spending money purely for relaxation and self-care, I’d probably choose a modern spa next time. I like my pedicures and Amanda’s Healing Hands.
The Buckstaff feels less like a luxury experience and more like participating in a living piece of American history.
At any given moment, there were some fifteen naked men being efficiently herded through various hot-water stations. It felt more like a factory than a retreat. Moooo.
Efficient? Absolutely.
Interesting? Definitely.
Luxurious? Not exactly.
Nudity? More than anyone needs.
Still, it was worth doing once.
Susan’s experience apparently operated on an entirely different timeline. The men’s side finished nearly an hour before the women’s side. We were facing a checkout time at the campground and since her phone was still locked up, we had no way to communicate. We had already discussed a ride share back to the RV if time was tight and we couldn’t (or didn’t want to) walk back. With the clock ticking, I eventually Ubered back to camp, finished packing the RV, and then drove back into town to rescue my wife from whatever secret spa dimension they keep hidden upstairs.
One Last Look at Hot Springs
While waiting for me, Susan was able to find some RV parking downtown so with the RV parked and travelers reunited, we spent a little more time exploring downtown Hot Springs.
We wandered through town, explored a few more blocks, and split a panini for lunch before finally pointing the RV west again.
Hot Springs surprised me.
Hot Springs tries to be America’s answer to the Fountain of Youth. Generations of people have come here hoping the water would ease their aches, restore their libido, cure what ails them, or at least make them feel a little younger. After my Buckstaff experience, I can’t claim any miraculous age reversal, but I did leave a little cleaner, more relaxed, and less attached to my cellphone. That’s probably worth something.
Have you noticed that since the pandemic, we have far fewer water fountains in the world? NOT True in Hot Springs. There are water distribution stations in every block and fountains all over.
I spoke with a woman who had two 5-gallon stainless steel Jerry Cans. (I will leave it short, but those who know me know I LOVE a good Jerry Can. I have one riding in this very RV, though I hope not to need it.) So I fan boyed on her cans. (haha) She comes once a week and fills up. It is the drinking water for a family of five all week. People definitely BELIEVE in this water. I left with a liter in my water bottle, and now I am wondering if it is ok to put lemonade powder in 4000-year-old hot spring water?
It isn’t what most people picture when they think of a national park. There are no giant waterfalls, dramatic mountain vistas, or massive wildlife herds.
Instead, the park exists because of the water.
Great Smoky Mountains National Park was about scenery.
Hot Springs National Park is about history.
Two parks down and already two completely different experiences.
With so much more to come!
Bonus State!
The GPS apparently decided interstate highways were overrated today.
At some point it routed us through a small corner of Oklahoma.
That means we can officially add a bonus state to the trip count.
Even more interesting, part of that route crossed through the Choctaw Nation. For a brief stretch, we were technically traveling through sovereign tribal lands.
It was impossible not to talk about the connections between this area and the places we had visited just a few days earlier. We passed a motel named “End of Trail”. Seems simple enough, but the trail we believe is being referenced is the Trail of Tears.
The Cherokee we encountered near the Smokies and the Choctaw lands we crossed today are sadly connected by one of the darkest chapters in American history.
The Trail of Tears forced Native American nations from their ancestral homelands throughout the Southeast and relocated them west into what became Oklahoma. Thousands died from disease, starvation, and exposure along the way. Definitely NOT America at its greatest.
Only a few days ago, we were driving through Cherokee, North Carolina.
Today, we found ourselves passing through the Choctaw Nation.
The distance between those places is measured in miles.
The history connecting them is measured in deaths.
A simple GPS detour unexpectedly became a reminder.
Texas Backroads
The route into Texas was anything but interstate travel. In fact, I don’t think we did a single Interstate mile.
At one point, though, the GPS appeared to be taking instructions from a committee of cattle.
Eventually, we found ourselves traveling on one of Texas’s famous FM roads.
For non-Texans, FM stands for Farm-to-Market. Texas invested and built thousands of miles of Farm-to-Market roads to connect rural communities with nearby towns.
Today, they form an enormous network of two-lane roads that crisscross the state.
And honestly?
They’re a lot more interesting than the interstate, though they can take a little more concentration. The trade-off was that I had miles with no one in front of me. That takes some of the pressure off.
The scenery changes.
The speed slows, for the RV on these roads, but they are still posted for 60, 65, even 70 MPH. I was telling Susan today about driving a road in TX and when I got to a School Zone it lowered from 75 – 55. Really, Texas? A 55 MPH School Zone? SMH
You pass places that never make it onto postcards on these roads.
Places that make you scratch your head.
However, we actually got to see Texas rather than simply cross it.
Disconnecting
Cell service was spotty for much of the day on these back roads.
There were long stretches where the outside world simply disappeared.
Normally that would bother me. And it did today, too if I am being honest.
Instead, after spending the morning without a phone at the Buckstaff, it kind of felt like a nudge from the Universe that maybe more disconnection is good? He wonders as he pauses writing this post to check a notification on the phone about having exceeded mobile hotspot data quota and “Speeds will be reduced until the next billing cycle.” Hmmm…just send me a sign, Lord…should I disconnect more?
The road, the landscape, and whatever happens to be around the next bend.
I may be rediscovering that being disconnected isn’t the same thing as being out of touch.
Looking Ahead
The RV ran well all day. A brief scare about 30 miles from our campground when an engine light briefly blinked. We pulled over immediately, and it stopped. I will hook up the OBD2 scanner in the morning and read any codes. We’ll keep an eye on it, but it was flawless the rest of the way in. We have a whole free day here to check things out. There is also a bit of a rattle developed that sounds like a loose heat shield in the engine. We’ll look at that tomorrow, too.
The repaired tire continues to hold air without complaint.
The temperature topped out around 88 degrees.
As I type this, we are roughly 1,400 miles from Buttervale.
Tomorrow and the next day bring a welcome change of pace. We’ll spend time visiting our son, catching our breath, recharging, and preparing for the next major westward push.
The first week has already taken us through the Smokies, across the Mississippi River, through Elvis country, into America’s oldest federal park which was created around thermal springs, and now into Texas by way of Oklahoma and the Choctaw Nation.
Not bad for six days on the road.
The adventure continues.
Day 6 By The Numbers
- Wake-Up Time: Before 7:00 AM
- Morning Hike: 2 Miles
- National Parks Completed: 2 of 10
- Bathhouses Experienced: 1
- Buckstaff Rating: 7/10
- Paninis Consumed: 1 (Shared)
- Bonus States Added: 1 (Oklahoma)
- Tribal Nations Crossed: 1 (Choctaw Nation)
- High Temperature: 88°F
- Distance From Buttervale: ~1,400 Miles
- Tire Problems: 0
- Mechanical Problems: .01
- Cell Signal Bars: Frequently 0
- Wildlife Encounters: Birds and Squirrels, too many dead armadillos to count
- Days Until California: 6
- Days Until Glacier National Park: 15
- Systems Status: A-OK
