The Granddaddy of All Bass

Or more correctly, as it's advertised on the front of the building, "The Granddaddy of All Outdoor Stores."

Springfield, MO. That's where it all started in 1972. Some guy named John Morris who loved to fish for bass wanted to make his homemade specialty baits available to other enthusiasts. What began as a small catalog mailed from a fishing section at the back of his dad's liquor store became a multimillion dollar corporation supplying almost any kind of product you can think of related to hunting, fishing, camping, and generally looking good while on the water or in the forest.

What's more, their stores have a signature style that keeps the local taxidermists in business. (The Springfield store actually has its own taxidermy shop down the street.) Part natural history museum, part Disneyland Animal Kingdom, part aspirational sales tactic ("See what you can bag when you buy our products?"), and part marketing gimmick, every store is filled with critters--once live and now stuffed, and some actually alive.

We'd already stumbled onto my first Bass Shop experience at Branson Landing. I oohed and ahhed over the displays of ponds teeming with trophy-sized game fish, stuffed bighorn sheep gamboling on rocks, an elk standing over my shoulder as I pawed through a rack of T-shirts. For a kid who always loved natural history museums but lamented that I couldn't get close to the animals behind their glass cases, I was in heaven. Ken, while impressed, kept telling me about an even bigger Bass Pro Shop he had once visited in southern California. "This is nothing compared to that one."

Well.

That one in California is NOTHING compared to this mother of all stores in Springfield, even by Ken's standards. Bass has spared no imagination or dollar figure to make their flagship Outdoor World Catalog Showroom extremely camera worthy.

No matter which way you look, there are true-to-life dioramas and habitats. Deer leap through a forest in the rafters above boating world. Ducks and geese fly in formation over women's wear. An eagle lifts off from its nest above an elk bugling for a mate at the entrance to Hunting. Opossums dangle from trees throughout the store. A creek burbles through the camping department.

And, yes, there were other looky-loos like me stopping to gawk and photograph.

Having seen so many trophies on display in Yellowstone hotels. lodges, and restaurants, this is what I expected of an outdoor store. Wow, was I surprised by what else was to come...

This scene greets you as you walk in the main door. The taxidermy is so well done I could sense the weight and energy of each animal at their moment of impact. I expected the one on the left to crumple as I watched.

The gigantic main entrance display was breathtaking even under renovation. The scene is both high and deep, and stairs will take you right into the action as you go to the second level.

A member of the new display overlooks guests. I was drooling over how much fun it would be to create this kind of stuff.

Yup, a full-blown bayou takes you into the marine center. Beaver dam, fish pond (live fish), Spanish moss draping from salt cedars, turkeys and grouse in full flight overhead, a water mill by a cafe that serves coffee and snacks to foot-weary shoppers.

The lower side of the bayou, viewable as a six-foot deep aquarium.

One of the live occupants of the store--Big Al, the alligator, now 14 years old, has been here since 2009.

True interior decorating is all about detail.

Retail raiders in the shoe department.

Grizzlies and black bears aren't usually found sharing the same space, but what the hell...it sells shirts.

Mr. Coyote was all over the place. Something about their expressions always reminded me of Patchouli.

Other live occupants. Reptiles and fish seem to do well in this kind of environment. There were also a few resident ducks in the various water features.

One of my favorite areas was the fishing department, where I got a unique perspective of what lurks beneath a pier and beyond a marshy shore.

This gar is just a few feet away from the fisher-kid's toes. A live gar was in a tank below this scene, and a record-sized dead gar was in a case nearby.

Big Al's cousin out for a snack...and much too close for my own comfort. Glad he was already stuffed.

Back in above-ground scenes, a cabin in the woods where you can buy knives, ostensibly to fend off Mr. Grizzly. Just beyond the bear is another deep pond, kept fresh by a working water wheel. The store also has a separate room dedicated to high-end guns, which of course sported animal trophies on every wall. I gravitated toward a lovely silver engraved rifle with gorgeous wood. Naturally, it turned out to be the most expensive gun in the shop, at nearly $5,000.

This is only a portion of a full-wall, three-story display that you can also view by elevator.

Can't quite tell if that person is yelling for help or enjoying the scene. Live ducks plus nesting boxes.

Turn a corner, meet a leaping wolf.

Coyote on the prowl. This is definitely a Patchouli pose.

Mom teaches 'em young at the indoor shooting range.

Every raccoon made me smile.

Sleepy boy, just like Patchouli sunning. Sure makes me want to take advantage of the sandal sale.

By the way, there's also a $52 million Bass-sponsored Wonders of Wildlife Museum & Aquarium next to the store, but it's undergoing a five-year renovation that's supposed to enlarge the museum by 58%. It's not due to reopen until Dec 2012. Bummer that we missed it; it's sure to be worth visiting if you're ever in the area.

It's All About the Water...

Hot Springs National Park isn't your typical park full of scenic mountains, rolling valleys, elusive wildlife, weird rock formations, or forest thickets. It's a busy street lined with a bunch of bathhouses preserved from the turn of the century...plus tourist establishments such as T-shirt shops, art galleries, restaurants, hotels, and museums celebrating the local gangster action or famous figures in wax.

Despite its ever-changing facade, Hot Springs was, and still is, all about the water.

People still come with jugs to fill from several public fountains, and they still come to soak in the few bathhouses that remain open. An Army-Navy hospital--first built during the therapeutic bathing craze of the 1880s, with special attention on treatments for adults afflicted with infantile paralysis--is still open as private rehab hospital. The current 7-story building, reconstructed with fireproof brick and steel in the 1930s, dominates the skyline the near end of town.

The Plaza Hotel and a typical section of the main drag. Many of the hotels are as old and grand as the bathhouses.

"Ride the Duck" is a favorite novelty tour. These military surplus vehicles can drive on land and motor on water. They're popular in cities that offer lakes near their town center. I took this tour with Dad and Noma many years ago.

Each of these green covers represents a natural hot spring that has been capped since the the property came into federal hands for the national park. Dozens of springs used to spew steam and flow with water all over the area; a river still runs under the sidewalk I'm standing on to take this photo. Bathhouse owners would claim the best springs on the hillside and channel water to their pump houses and boiler rooms. Other springs remained public, open to anyone for actual bathing. They were often the only place negros, transients, and poorer people of the time could get clean for free.

Many of the bathhouses have been converted to other businesses. This one was under renovation.

One of the bathhouses that is still open. Behind the receptionist in the lobby is a wall of windows that has a view of a big pool for bathers. A little like being a fish in a bowl for patrons. The house also offers massages, facials, private spas, etc. Prices were competitive with most big cities.

The Fordyce Bath House is converted to the national park visitor center. All three floors plus the gutted boiler room in the basement are open for viewing.

One fountain at each end of the lobby.

Mock rugs made from mosaic floor tiles not only made the place look crisp, sanitary, and pretty. They were also ideal for a wet environment that demanded frequent clean-up.

You would have started your therapy session in the second floor dressing room. This was an open area on the women's side. There were also two hallways lined with the wooden cubicles.

Your personal changing space.

An ingenious, if baffling, device for hanging hats and clothing.

A typical soaking room for the ladies. Men's often included a shower. An attendant would sit in the chair to scrub, serve tea, and make sure you didn't drown if you fell asleep.

The much more posh men's bathing area.

A needle shower. Stand in the center, and sharp sprays of water shoot at you from holes in all the pipes. Loved the plumbing on this one.

No need for texting when your pals are boxed right next to you for a chat. More seating for attendants while you and your friends while away your troubles. This was part of the Hydro-Therapeutic Room, which the Fordyce booklet described as "A feature of great scientific interest,...its equipment [includes] sun-ray cabinets, frigid cabinets, devices for sprays, douches, Sitz baths, electric baths and the like."

I think this may have been in the "and the like" category. One scary contraption. This is what you'd see standing naked in front of the nozzles.

And this is the operator's view. Might be wise to tip the attendant well.

The heyday of healing through electricity. No sign on this one...probably for good reason.

"Chiropody--the treatment of the feet, especially of corns, verrucas, etc." There was also a beauty parlor, gymnasium (wooden flooring, rings, horse, springboards), massage rooms (with more scary light boxes and electrical contraptions), and a exercise room that offered wooden machines for passive and/or gentle muscle manipulation. And yes, you could spend the night in tiny dorm rooms if your treatment called for it.

The soaking bath for non-ambulatory patients. The suspended stretcher runs on rails from the hallway into this room, where attendants would lower the patient into the tub.

They don't make plumbing like this anymore.

After heating, chilling, spraying, steaming, and god knows what else, your therapy session would end with a rest in the cool room. Attendants will rub aching muscles with wet towels and salves.

Refreshed, invigorated, and once again dressed, you could partake of the upstairs parlor, segregated for men (with gaming tables and smoking room) and women (with piano and letter writing desks). More of that lovely tile flooring and stained glass.

You might also go outside the Fordyce and take in the grounds. The steps lead to the upper promenade. A fresh cold water fountain is in the alcove. Up the steps to the left is one of the few natural springs the park has left uncapped, so visitors can get a feel for what it was like to have hot water flowing over stone everywhere.

At this upper promenade, you could see and be seen. Live bands would often entertain from nearby rooftops.

Basement boiler room, which also housed the attendants' locker rooms.

View from the porch.