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.
