Yesterday we left San Antonio and put the American southwest behind us, heading northeast toward Memphis. We figured ~11 hours in the car would be too much for one day, so we needed a place to stop—preferably somewhere interesting that we could spend a day exploring. Hot Springs, Arkansas, offers both a national park and Bill Clinton’s childhood home, so it seemed to fit the bill.

We knew almost nothing about Hot Springs National Park when we set out to visit it this morning. We started to suspect that this was going to be a very different kind of park when we drove past the Hot Springs NP welcome sign on the way to the visitor center. Nearly all of the national parks that we’ve visited until today have had their primary welcome signs placed in remote, scenic, seemingly strategic locations that serve to let visitors know they’re about to experience something special. Hot Springs National Park has their sign on a street corner, across from an Italian restaurant and a gangster museum.

The park’s visitor center is located on Hot Spring’s Central Ave, in the middle of Bathhouse Row. Since the visitor center used to be a working bathhouse, it serves as a museum today—so we began our day by taking a self-guided tour of the facility to learn about “the Golden Age of Bathing” (no, really—that’s how the national park service refers to the era of American bathhouses!).

Lori in one of the many changing rooms in the Fordyce bathhouse visitor center.

If you can imagine a mid-twentieth century spa, then the museum tour probably won’t hold any surprises for you. We saw such marvels as old bathtubs, old showers, old lockers, old changing rooms, and an old gym. All while continually squeezing past other people in the narrow, crowded hallways. People were smaller a hundred years ago, apparently.

The museum was fine, but we were mainly interested in seeing the hot springs, and maybe taking in a hike or two. So we ventured outside, intent on walking the Grand Promenade trail behind the visitor center, where we could see some of the natural sights.

Out on the promenade, we enjoyed a pleasant stroll along the brick walkway, furnished with the occasional spring-water fountain. There are dozens of hot springs on the short walk, so we were a little puzzled as to why we weren’t immediately seeing any. Then we started to notice them:

Look, the hot springs! They were everywhere.

Yup, nearly all of the hot springs are capped in these ugly blue-green boxes, complete with chains and padlocks. I get that NPS wants to prevent contamination, but I’m not sure what the appeal of the Hot Springs National Park is supposed to be when the hot springs are hidden from visitors. The main park area is pleasant in the way that a small town municipal park is pleasant. The bathhouse museum is utterly mediocre, and devoted to a subject that isn’t especially historically significant. So why impart national park status on this place?

Superior Spring, my personal favorite. Marvel at its beauty!

After we’d walked the length of the promenade, we decided to take a hike through the woods—to the top of Hot Springs Mountain, which promised sweeping views of the area surrounding Hot Springs. With only 27 total miles of trails, the hiking options at Hot Springs NP aren’t exactly extensive, but maybe the lack of quantity would be made up for by an overabundance of quality (spoiler: nope).

Hiking through Hot Springs National Park reminded me of my childhood. Of those few acres of woodland that sat vacant and unused in my suburban neighborhood. Where you’re never more than a few hundred feet from a noisy road, where wild kids play unattended, where unexpected treasures such as abandoned refrigerators are commonplace. That’s what hiking in Hot Springs National Park feels like.

Lori on the Short Cut Trail, between the visitor center and the top of Hot Springs Mountain. Note the barbed wire fence separating us from the “scenery”.

The “view” from the top of Hot Springs Mountain. Admittedly, we probably didn’t have the best day, weather-wise.

While Hot Springs definitely takes the crown for most disappointing national park (from our previous winner: Cuyahoga Valley NP), the town itself is actually very nice. There are all sorts of interesting eateries and shops, and everyone is ridiculously friendly. We had fun just wandering the streets, checking out the quirky shops and tourist traps—and later on, the holiday lights on display.

Giddyup!

We’re headed to Memphis tomorrow, and then we have just a few more planned stops as we make our way back home to New York.