Hot Springs Tourism

Central Avenue in Hot Springs, Arkansas houses the shops, restaurants and bath houses that comprise the "tourist traps." This little town started as a getaway for the gangsters of the prohibition era such as Lucky Luciano, Al Capone, Bugs Moran, and Frank Costello. After a day of beating people to a pulp, they would come into town and relax in the luxurious bath houses that line the quiet street. There is also a bar called "Capone's" that has apparently been there forever, fully loaded with secret tunnels that connected the bar to the brothels and back gambling bars.

Hot Springs was known as "The Spa City." This particular bath house is on the National Park registry and was free to tour.

Inside, the atmosphere is serene where the light shines through the stained glass windows.

However, there were many devices in dilapidated areas that reminded me of Resident Evil.

If you need a bunion removed, you just get scraped at the Chiropody!

Or, you could work on your gymnastics at the "Gym." Laura Croft would love it here.

Maybe, play a little piano for your sweetheart.

Seems like these houses were places to spend the day relaxing and taking a break from all the worries of the times. They had massage parlors and billiards too. I know after shooting someone with a Tommy Gun, I always like to shoot a little pool.

The next order of business after eating some fresh oysters was the alligator farm and the petting zoo. 

These dudes were fierce.

Arctic Wolf chillin' in Arkansas.

This place was also a petting zoo and had some friendly creatures who loved the wheat bread we were given to feed them. These things were extremely tame, like pet dogs almost.

Although, I wouldn't want to step into a pen with them.

Arkansas is beautiful in the fall, and there are scenic drives abound. The foliage is spectacular with a grand spectrum of colors. The contrast with the Arkansas rock gives this part of the country a unique beauty that is hard to match.

I also found some spectacular old homes in and around Hot Springs.

Some even come with a house cat.

And when it's all said and done, you must ICE DOWN!

Over the river and through the woods...

Better have your $1.90 ready when you travel through Kansas and Oklahoma. It's not the $1.90 that I would complain about, it is the fact that you have to stop and pay a nominal fee to use the worst roads in America. They also have people manning the booths 24-7, so they are obviously paying the workers and not fixing the roads. Even though the 90 year old toll boot ladies are way more interesting than the bland, desolate landscape, I still think we should just be able to cruise through and save some gas. Ironically, when the tolls stop, the scenery becomes majestic. It's Indian country just as you get to the end of Oklahoma -- a cruel joke, fo sho. Pretty much all you can do is eat through the hazy darkness, as the flat, monotone road hums underneath your tires...

As it is fall now, the leaves are all starting to change colors and the auburn and yellow hues sprinkle the countryside. Small rolling hills litter the sides of the road, which begin to cut through the Arkansas rock. 

Never thought I'd be so glad to see Arkansas. I spent most of my childhood making fun of the poorest state in the Union, but like anywhere else, there are good parts and bad parts. By the way, this is the first picture post with the new Camera! Hopefully, the picture quality will get better as I learn to wield my new sword.

With a little help from my trusty navigator, the van made it to the Bear cave.

Dad's house is on the 15th hole of Diamante C.C. and provided the comfortable stabilization, my weary bones needed. He's got an Italian guy from Milwaukee named Joe, who talks like he's from the Bronx, that is going to fix up the nagging little problems with the van. Beware of mechanics you don't know. The people in Denver quoted me horrible prices and didn't even have the right solution to the problems. Joe has the van now and it should be all good. 

So, what do you do in Arkansas? 

You shoot shit!

And hang out on boats!

And take the Guy to hang out with supermodels at fish joints. Can you spot the guy? Hint - he's playing David Hasselhoff.

And when there's no Grandpa around? You wing it.

Autumn and I took the boat out on a breezy afternoon, and tried to fish, but the water was way too choppy, so we ended up drinking gin and tonics and exploring Lake Balboa. 

Somebody has a little house in the middle of the lake that they really want everyone to see.

And that's the village, where the freaks come out at night, then go to bed by 9.

We're Golden

I'm generally a pretty positive person. I like to try and see the gas tank as half full when there are no signs for gas stations in the middle of nowhere. But getting to Golden Colorado was a trial of biblical proportions. First, I had to move, which means toss out all the valuable items you can't sell -- like: old dirty couches, chairs with pet hair all over them, a driving net with substantial holes in the webbing, a portable pool with a tear in the liner -- you know, the essentials in life. You pack up all your valuables and head out, simple as that. Unless it just happens to be the hottest two days on record in the valley. 115 was the temp the first day, and luckily it cooled off by 15 degrees on the second day.

  I didn't even have to light this, it just spontaneously combusted. Pretty cool.

With the van all packed and ready to roll, all I had to do was hook up the Jeep to the tow dolly and off we go -- at 10pm. Autumn and I were gonna leave around 4 but that was a fools dream. In the dark, I dragged the iron horse up to the trailer hitch on the box van and connected all the wires. Then, I drove the jeep up on the dolly. Success! The Jeep bounds on there with no problems. All I had to do at this point was throw the straps over the tires and connect several other chains etc. One problem, the latches are stuck on the straps. Thank the heavens for my neighbor Ben, as he magically appeared and helped with the strapping and chaining. With the Jeep secure, I left to finish packing. Some lady pulled into our cul de sac and needed me to move the van out of the middle of the road. As I'm pulling forward, there's a loud crash. The hitch had come off the ball. I was unaware that you had to manually screw down the hitch. Now, I have to redo the entire Jeep process without Ben. I get the Jeep off the trailer and line it back up. This time the trailer doesn't pop into place and it is dragging the ground. To make matters worse, the mechanical failure caused the chains under the Jeep to tighten. There was no slack and they were stuck. I had to pull the entire Jeep forward up the ramp several inches to get some slack and undo the chains. I think it was one of those moments you read about when someone is so pissed or scared that they do something inhuman. Finally, I got the Jeep on the trailer -- I'm now an expert on loading a trailer if anyone needs help now, FYI. It was a blessing in disguise, I guess, as the Jeep was very stable for the duration of the trip.

Our first stop was Mesquite Nevada, an old casino town about an hour on the other side of Vegas.

 I will always remember this place as "Hell on Earth." The town was filled with retirees feeding the penny slots like pigeons in Central Park. I woke up the next morning to decompress and grab a bite to eat from the diner in the Casino. I needed to assess just what it was that I had done with my life. I needed to form a positive outlook after the moving and driving and busting of ass. As I ordered my orange juice and pancakes, I realized that I wasn't exactly sure where I had put my bag of cash. I didn't panic at first. I tried to recall what I had done with the Wells Fargo Bag. My only thought was: BACKPACK. My pancakes tasted like sewer logs as I tried to force them down my throat into my stomach. It wanted to send them right back up. The decompression breakfast was a disastrous failure. I rushed out of the diner and immediately started looking for my $3000. Not in the backpack. Not in the other backpack. Not in any thing! The back of the van looked like Paris after the Nazis invaded and there was nothing I could do. I panicked -- little hyperventilation actually. Never done that before. Don't recommend it. So, there I was in a place all about losing money and I couldn't even stomach the thought of playing three card poker.

I made one more attempt to chill out by getting in the hot tub. I was in there for a good 10 minutes, running the wonderful jets over my aching muscles -- moving a house is a great workout. Out of nowhere, an old man without a towel or shirt shows up and plops down across from me. He proceeds with the small chat about his 38 children in Utah and how this Casino/hotel is his favorite spot. I didn't mind the banter and hoped to learn something from him. The next words out of his mouth were, "So, you ever heard of Amway?" For the next 5 minutes, the only words out of my mouth were, "No Thanks, and I'm not really interested." He persisted to ruing my hot tub experience and I was forced to exit stage right. the Accepting my losses, I pressed on through the day and ended up sleeping until about midnight. We departed in order to pick up my van at around 2pm, Colorado time. It was a bear of a drive towing the Jeep in the middle of the night, but somehow, I made it.

Delirious and in need of sleep, I took a 15 minute power nap at this look out point.

A cave up in the hills. Set out running but I take my time...

Eventually, we made it to Golden Colorado and I had a beer. Fat Tire tastes pretty good in Colorado. We were so tired, we left the van in the street, and I had several more beers and several more after that. The next day, I woke up fully intending to find my bag of money, but getting all the shit out of the van and moving Autumn's stuff into the house was the first step.

Not a pretty sight. It wasn't until the next day that I was able to sort all my things and begin the search for the pot of Gold at the end of the rainbow. I went down the line sifting through each bag and box. I formulated a full inventory of my things in my head. As I made my way toward the end of the row, it was looking bleak. There was only one trash bag of miscellaneous hats and shoes sitting at the end of the row. Sure enough, sitting right on top of everything was a black Wells Fargo bag with $3000 in it. I'm not sure, but I think I heard it laughing at me. 

I don't know if there is a moral to this story other than: don't throw you most valuable shit in a trash bag and forget about it, but all's well that ends well, I guess. So now, I've got my van, which is awesome by the way, just needs a little TLC and I have to fix a leak in the power steering. But after that, I'll be ready to explore this beautiful country. Thankfully, the first stop was Golden.

Oh, and Billie Dee is here too!