“Things are different around here,” a local Arkansan enthuses. “Where else in the U.S. can you duck hunt at dawn, white water canoe in the morning, fish the afternoon away, tour a beautiful garden, then relax in natural hot springs?”

   Home to Native American tribes like the Quapaw, Caddo, and Osage Nations, Arkansas was acquired by the U.S. as part of the Louisiana Purchase, becoming the 25th state in 1836. Over the years, Arkansas has distinguished itself with many notables: Eldridge Cleaver, Bill Clinton, John Grisham, Maya Angelou, Johnny Cash, Al Green, and Mr. Wal-Mart himself, Sam Walton.

   Exploring Hot Springs, Arkansas, I decided that fishing and “taking the waters” might just be the perfect vacation.

Fishing Lake Ouachita

   “Been fishin’ since I could stand up,” Hugh Albright drawls, motoring his silver Bass Cat boat through early morning fog.

   “We got stripers, walleye, crappie and bass. And I know where they all live.”

   Wearing denim shorts and an army camouflage jacket, Albright’s sky blue eyes scan the densely forested shoreline. He carefully navigates around tiny islands and stark tree limbs vaulting out of the lake’s depths.

   “This was all forest until they dammed the Ouachita River back in 1950. Now it’s America’s Cleanest Lake because we have no development. Some folks like to dive the lake, playing in the forest graveyard. Me, I come to fish.”

   Fog resists the sun. Seems anything might happen in this eerie mist. Will the Loch Ness Monster rear up and eat us?

   We’re totally surrounded by centuries old pine and hardwood forest.

   In the shallows, a white egret quietly spears a fish breakfast. As Albright revs up the engine, we hunker down, shivering in three layers.

   Twenty minutes of cold lake air, then he points like a retriever.

   “We’re here,” Albright whispers, stopping the boat.

    “Where’s here?” I ask.

   “Fish hole. They’re hangin’ out below, yesireeeeeee.”

   The sickening diesel smell wafts away into sweet clean air. I peel off two layers, as sun melts away the fog. So quiet, you can hear a fish burp.

   Albright grabs a live crawfish from his pail, pierces its shell with a mean looking hook, hands me a Pfluger bamboo rod. I feel guilty hurting the crawfish.

   “Can’t we use a fake lure?”

   “Nope. Fish are smart. Drop her down to the bottom…’bout 17 feet. Pay attention missy.”

   Not 45 seconds later, I’m reeling in the first fish of the day. A gleaming green and white spotted bass, 10 inches of beauty.

   “Thank you gorgeous,” I compliment my fish. “Have a nice day,” I grin, throwing her back to wriggle away. Albright nods, pleased with the woman worried about killing a crawfish. Maybe she has a future in fishing after all.

Not one minute later, Warren reels in the second fish of the day.  Everyone on the boat reels in fish after fish. If I tell you we caught 25 bass that morning, you’ll call me a liar, so go ahead. But we did.

   “So Hugh, “ I ask later, “How do you cook your bass?”

   I figure a man of his girth knows something about food.

   “I like mine boiled in oil, Sharon, “ he twangs. “I’m a health nut.”

   I learn a fine lesson this day and here it is: two hours fishing with Albright on a shimmering lake and you forget your name.  This is a good thing. Our to do list remain crumpled and forgotten in our pockets. Even better.

   Nothing matters except reeling in another fish. And hanging out with a mellow guy named Hugh who likes his fish boiled in oil.

Taking the waters

   In Hot Springs, waters from 47 hot springs are piped to Bath Houses around town. Legend has it that “taking the waters” may cure arthritis, bursitis, rheumatism, stress, and a host of other human ailments.

    “What about my exhaustion and impending old age?” I ask the attendant at The Arlington Resort Hotel & Spa.

   “Is this the Fountain of Youth?”

   “I’m sure you will experience many benefits,” he smiles, handing me the hotel brochure.

   Opening in 1875 as Arkansas’ largest hotel, many dignitaries have visited The Arlington, seeking healing powers of the thermal waters: Theodore Roosevelt, Babe Ruth, Andrew Carnegie, and John Barrymore. Al Capone brought his entourage, as did entertainers Will Rogers and Kate Smith.

   The elegant furniture, soaring ceilings, glittering chandeliers, Italian tiles, and chic Lobby Bar are reminiscent of glamorous years.

   Checking into the Bath House for “The Works,” I’m greeted by JoDee. She leads me to a frothy steaming bathtub and says, “Soak.  I’ll be back in 20 minutes for your scrub.”

Hoping the Hot Springs will cure what ails me, I drift into a blissful dream state. I’d read that these mineral waters rise from 8,000 feet below the earth’s surface, and fell as rain 4,000 years ago.

   Surely these sacred historic waters have a gift for me.

   Next thing I know, JoDee is scrubbing my arms, legs and back with a loofah. 

    “I bet I’ve washed some 70,000 women since I started here,” she says.

   I feel 6 years old, when I would fly into the house, dirty, after an afternoon of mud pie baking in the backyard. Mother would lift me into a bubbly tub, teasing “You filthy child, what can we do with you now?” Then she’d scrub me until I was a size smaller and my pink little body squeaked.

   JoDee must have trained with my Mom, because I now feel a size smaller and my skin glows pink. She wraps me in a big towel and leads to me a long line of tables. Then she wraps my arms, legs and head with towels soaked in the steaming water. A cold compress is laid on my forehead.

   “Don’t think about anything,” she says firmly.

The next 40 minutes I fly around the Galaxy, examining stars and thinking how beautiful all the planets look against the black velvety Universe. Maybe I’m really stardust, and all my woes are imagined.  Maybe getting older isn’t so bad?

   Then JoDee is unwrapping me like a mummy, leading me to a rocking chair to wait for my massage. I obey her like a child. I rock slowly, feeling nurtured, my agenda for the day forgotten.

   Sipping chilled mineral water, I chat with the other guests. It feels like we’re on some porch just rocking in the breeze.

   “Are you coming to the County Fair tonight?” one lady asks. “My daughter is showing her prize pig.”

   She hands me a photo of a precious blonde girl, age 3, posing with a huge white pig.  Her daughter is beaming and so is the pig.

 “I hope you’ll come, it’s the best fair ever,” she says. “Plus the homemade pies are incredible.”

    I learn another fine lesson this day and here it is:  soaking in 4,000 year old mineral water from Mother Earth’s rain is definitely a good thing.

   Especially if you are the 70,001 woman to be scrubbed by JoDee. And going to an Arkansas County Fair where kids hug their pigs is a sure cure for everything.

   Especially old age.

When you go

   Hot Springs has dozens of excellent accommodations.

   We recommend either The Arlington Resort Hotel&Spa, (www.ArlingtonHotel.com, 800-643-1502) or Lookout Point Lakeside Inn, (www.lookoutpointinn.com, 501-525-6155).

For fine dining, Chef Paul’s French/Mediterranean cuisine has earned his restaurant a 3 Diamond AAA award and winner of Wine Spectator’s Award of Excellence. Location: 4330 Central Avenue, Hot Springs. 501-520-4187.

   Belle Arti Italian Ristorante

© 2008 Sharon Spence Lieb and Warren Lieb

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