Taking the waters in Hot Springs

When the attendant asked for my sheet, there was no turning back. I had stripped off my clothes, stuffed them into a locker, and entered the men's bathing area clad in only a thin cotton sheet. What I was about to experience was close to the what visitors to Hot Springs would have participated in 100 years ago, in this very bathhouse, including the nudity.

My wife and I journeyed to Hot Springs, Arkansas to feed my curiosity about the history of medical tourism connected to springs. In Florida after the Civil War, elaborate facilities housed bathers who found our springs to have great curative powers. Places like Green Cove, White Sulphur, and Suwannee Springs were home to elaborate bathhouses with ornate Victorian-style facilities such as hotels and spas for their upper class clientele.  For a brief time hydrotherapy became an important treatment for curing a variety of ailments, and sanitariums and spas offering methods for healing involving water popped up all over Florida. Henry Flagler's Alcazar Hotel in St. Augustine had elaborate spa facilities; John Harvey Kellogg opened a branch of his Battle Creek Sanitarium in Miami Springs; and the Seventh Day Adventist Church practiced hydrotherapy at the Florida Sanitarium in Orlando. Studying the history of hydrotherapy in America wet my appetite to experience the practice myself. That's how I found myself naked in Hot Springs, warily handing over my bed sheet to a stranger.

From Fordyce to Buckstaff
While touring the elaborately restored Fordyce Bathhouse, the Park Ranger shared that two of the bathhouses on Bathhouse Row still allowed one the opportunity to soak in the famed mineral waters. Quapaw Baths and Spa offered a more contemporary spa experience with facials, massage, and "Hot Stone Alignment." The Buckstaff Bathhouse, however, offered the ultimate "thermal mineral bathing experience" that was virtually unchanged from what bathers have undergone in Hot Springs for decades. After the Ranger's description of the Buckstaff process, even my wife, who is not a fan of spas, agreed that we had to give it a try.

Detail of the lobby of the Fordyce Bathhouse, restored by
the National Park Service.

Detail of the spectacular stained glass at the Fordyce Bathhouse.

Fountain and tile work in the lobby of the Fordyce bathhouse.

Unlike the Buckstaff, the Quapaw offers a communal bathing area
like those in Europe and Asia (no nudity.)

At the Buckstaff
We arrived at lunch time when the baths were closed and were told to return at 1:30. By 1:15 the line had all ready began to form in the lobby, and we waited for our chance to sign-up. Buckstaff offers a variety of services, but we signed up for the Whirlpool Mineral Bath treatment that included a tub bath, sitz bath, vapor cabinet, needle shower and hot pack towel treatment for $33.

Buckstaff Baths opened in 1912 and is the only Hot Springs bathhouse that still provides the traditional bathing experience. The bathhouses on Bathhouse Row catered to different clientele – while the decor and architecture of the Fordyce bathhouse obviously catered to the upper end of the economic spectrum, the more Spartan appointments of the Buckstaff make it clear that it was for folks with less means. The building itself has a covered porch along the front with enormous columns that appear to poke out between eye-catching blue and white striped awnings. The lobby is smaller and more minimally decorated in comparison to some of the more upscale neighbors like the Fordyce which boasts beautiful fountains and tile work in the lobby to entice guests.

Buckstaff Bathhouse. Library of Congress.

After we paid for treatments my wife and I split up; as is tradition the baths are segregated by gender. The women's baths were on the second floor, the men's on the first floor adjacent to the lobby. I was the first male in the men's bath after the staff's lunch break, so it felt a bit odd as I began my bathing experience in a large facility without any other bathers. After depositing my clothes in a locker, I headed into the bathing area, a large open room that appeared to take up the entire back of the rather large building. In the center of the room were rows of vinyl covered tables, much like those you would see used by contemporary massage therapists. Along the walls were various marble stalls with various hydrotherapy devices; sitz baths to my right, enormous tubs on my left. I didn't have time to look around much as the bath attendant, dressed in entirely in white, (as is the tradition), led me to my mineral bath.

A note of self-disclosure, I have always been modest about nudity. In middle school swimming class I wore underwear under my bathing suit so I wouldn't have to be naked in front of the other kids. While I'm not that kid any more, I must admit I was a bit uncomfortable getting buck naked in front of a complete stranger at Buckstaff Bathhouse.

The men's changing area at the Buckstaff. Library of Congress.

Little has change since this photo was taken. Library of Congress.

Here's what the tub looks like, sans plumbing. Library of Congress.

Hot mineral bath
The attendant helped me into the enormous tub. He instructed me to place my feet on the far end of the tub and lean back. The water felt hot at first, but I got used to the temperature fairly quickly. The temperature gauge by my right foot showed it was 104 degrees. The hot mineral water comes from 45 separate springs on the side of Hot Springs Mountain and the average temperature of the water at its source is 143 degrees. Here is an explanation from the Park Service of why the water is hot:

Rain water collected throughout the recharge area northeast of town slowly converges at a maximum depth of probably between 6,000 to 8,000 feet at a point just west of the Bathhouse Row area. Here the rocks are cut by a series of large faults. Cracks and fractures associated with these faults provide the hot water with an escape route up to the surface. Heated by the natural heat gradient within the earth, the trip up is so rapid, that there is very little cooling of the water. Of the approximately four thousand years it takes the rainwater to make its round trip, perhaps only a year or so at the very most is needed to get back up the surface.

The whirlpool was created by a vintage looking device that looked like a cross between a kitchen mixer and outboard engine. It was attached to the tub above my left foot and the electric engine was perched just above the water. I wondered what would happen if it were to fall from its perch – I could see the headlines in my mind: "Florida man electrocuted in Hot Springs mineral bath." I did my best to put those fears out of my mind and relax into the warm flowing water.

The whirlpool motor at the Buckstaff was similar to this one. Library of Congress.

At one point the attendant added more water to the tub and it was noticeably warmer coming out of the tap. I was promised a 20 minute soak but I could tell by the clock on the wall it was much more like 15 minutes. By the time the attendant returned with a towel to take me to the sitz bath, I was so comfortable in the tub that it took great effort on my part to remove myself from the warm mineral waters.

Sitz bath
The attendant then led me to the sitz bath which had a small wooden seat resting in it that he proceeded to scrub with Ajax. I figured it was because my short stature might require a boost to fit correctly. I sat in the little tub while warm water cascaded over my mid to lower back. It felt heavenly, like taking a long warm shower (but without the guilt of wasting water or electricity.)  After a few minutes I was once again rousted from my relaxed state to cross the room for my vapor cabinet experience.

Here's a vintage illustration of a sitz bath.

Sitz bath in the Fordyce Bathhouse.

Vapor cabinet

My only previous experience with steam bathing was a very short stint in the steam room at the Safety Harbor Resort and Spa. I found it hard to breathe and impossible to see. Traditionally at Hot Spring bathhouses there are two types of vapor cabinets, the type where one's head is exposed and the walk-in type. I was taken to the walk-in type for two minutes of steam. I found it hard to breathe through my nose, so I breathed through my mouth. The air had an interesting earthy, sweet taste. Soon sweat was oozing out of every pore in my body. While at first I found it to be claustrophobic and uncomfortable, again by the time the attendant came to get me out I didn't want to leave!

Fordyce Bathhouse vapor cabinet.

Sweating in a vapor cabinet. Library of Congress.

Buckstaff Bathhouse walk-in vapor cabinet. Library of Congress.

Hot pack treatment
The attendant asked if I had an area of my body that I would like "packed" with hot towels. Remembering how good it felt to have warm water pouring on my lower back in the sitz bath, I asked him to apply the towels to my back. I laid face down on the table and warm damp towels were applied to my back. Then I was wrapped up tightly in sheets like an Indian papoose. There is something calming and relaxing about being confined like this, a similar treatment was used in asylums to calm agitated patients. Ten minutes later the attendant returned to take me to the needle shower.

Hydrotherapy treatment, image from the Willard Digital Collection/Willard Library

Needle shower

I'd seen images of people in needle showers with hoses pointed at their backsides that looked like cruel torture devices. They still have the equipment in the Lightner Museum in the spa of the former Alcazar Hotel. So I wasn't quite what to expect as I stepped into the Buckstaff's needle shower. The website HomeThingsPast.com defines a needle shower this way:

A needle bath or needle shower directed jets of water all round the torso. Sometimes the water flow could be adjusted, and a particular setting was promoted as a liver shower or bath, supposedly offering a stimulating massage for internal organs. Its energizing effects were considered more suitable for men than women. Needle showers were marketed to gentlemen’s athletic clubs as well as private houses. Some people call them cage showers.

I found it to be relaxing, but was a little disappointed that the water pressure wasn't as epic as I had imagined. When the attendant returned the last step left in my hydrotherapy treatment was the cool down room.

Needle shower and sitz bath at Fordyce bathhouse.

Fordyce bathhouse needle shower.

Lightner Museum needle shower in St. Augustine. 

Needle shower in France, circa 1880.

Cool down

I was directed into a room full of massage tables where I was instructed to chill for about 10 minutes. The space was simple and sterile looking – white subway tiles on the walls, ceiling fans overhead, and a TV near the door. Another bather came in and I considered striking up a conversation to compare our experiences, but I was decided I was too blissed out and I didn't want to risk breaking the spell by talking. After a few minutes, I left and got dressed, and then went outside to wait for my wife. While I was seated in an Adirondack chair on the Buckstaff's front porch, some other tourists came by to pose for pictures. One of them was smoking and I almost felt like yelling at them for bursting my healthy bubble. It felt like every pore of my skin was open; every cell in my body relaxed. I decided to run to the gift shop next door before my wife got there and almost couldn't get out of the chair. I was that relaxed. It felt good.

The cool-down room in the Fordyce Bathhouse.

Conclusion

My wife did not experience the same level of relaxation that I did, and she later pointed out that the building was definitely showing its age. While it was not hospital clean, to me the age of the surroundings only added to the experience. The archival images from the Library of Congress used in this post are not that different from how it looks today, only with more wear and tear due to the passage of time. 

I was disappointed that I was not given drinks of spring water throughout the process as I had anticipated (my wife was). Hydrotherapy as practiced in the late 1800s and early 1900s included taking the waters both internally and externally. To compensate, my wife and I capped off our experience at the Superior Bathhouse, now a brewery, with the only craft beer brewed using hot springs mineral water. Now that's refreshing!

Superior bathhouse photo by Leslie Fisher for All About Beer Magazine.

Goodbye Greasy Goodness

I must admit I have stopped to take pictures of the Olde Dixie Fried Chicken sign more than I've actually eaten there. It is one of the few vintage signs left in the Orlando area, and occasionally I like to ride my bike into historic Pine Castle where the restaurant is located on photo safari. So when I heard it was shutting down, I made the conscious decision to ignore the fact that I normally try to adhere to a plant-based diet, and I stopped in for lunch.

It was quit chaotic when I arrived – folks lined up along the back wall waiting for take-out orders, what seemed like 8 or 10 women working hard to full those orders, and a disorganized crowd milling around the order counter. Immediately I was truck by the notion that if there was system in place, it wasn't clear. Was there line at the order counter, when did you pay, was there table service or pick-up? Turns out if you dine in, and they bring you your food, which I did in order to soak up the ambiance.

The place looks like it hadn't changed in half a century, the interior consists of wood paneling and stacked rock walls covered with posters of John Wayne. Large clusters of chicken collectibles line the counter. A mural of an old Southern plantation surrounded by oaks draped in Spanish moss covered the wall behind the cash register. There were amazing midcentury details like an incredible terrazzo compass rose and Googie-like multicolored hanging lights.

The smell of fried chicken coated everything, and the women behind the counter were in constant motion taking freshly fried chicken parts out of the fryer and putting them in boxes. At lunchtime the restaurant posted on Facebook that due to demand they had bought more chicken (as they were going to only stay open until they ran out.) As I was leaving I heard one of the ladies say they had run out of boxes, despite ordering about 5,000 of them.

While I was enjoying my delicious chicken breast, (it was so fresh and hot I couldn't pick it up with my fingers), one of the guests asked a member of the staff what was going to happen to the restaurant. She said they were looking for a new location, and I believe she said in Oviedo. I also overheard that the she understood the building would not be demolished, it would just not be Olde Dixie Fried Chicken anymore.

The place was crowded with a diverse group of people in all shapes, sizes, and colors. I found that interesting since the Confederate flag is prominently featured in the establishment's sign. My theory is that they named it "Olde Dixie" after the Dixie Highway which followed the route of Orange Avenue through Pine Castle.

There are very few restaurants with any history in the Orlando area, and even fewer buildings with original mid-century details. I'm sad to see this place go. And the chicken was moist and crispy, the cole slaw sweet and tasty, and the mac and cheese was delicious. I guess I'll go back to my plant-based diet until I have to say so-long to the next Orlando dining institution ready to bite the dust. Let's hope that's in the distant future.

Textures of the ancient city

I just returned from an overnight trip to my favorite city in Florida, St. Augustine. Although it can be touristy and crowded, there is magic there that I'm always able to tap into. My wife an I journey there at least once a year, and are never disappointed. This weekend the weather was perfect and the light was incredible. Waking the city, I  constantly make new discoveries and can simply lose myself in the rich textures on display in this incredibly lovely place.

Shuffling my way to a world ranking

When Michael Zellner, president of the International Shuffleboard Association, invited me to participate in this year's shuffleboard world championships, I wasn't sure if I was qualified. Although I received a special exemption to play against the world's best players, I knew that my game was not up to snuff to play in a tournament of that level. But Zellner convinced me that his invitation was a significant honor, and I didn't feel like I could say no. So I spent the past week playing against some of the best shuffleboard players anywhere. 

Fast courts, freshly beaded

The tournament started with a practice round on Sunday and I quickly determined that the courts at the Clearwater Shuffleboard Club were fast and they had lots of "drift." Drift is when the disk "drifts" off line due to the slant of the court. I soon learned that skilled players can use the drift to their advantage to tuck a scoring disk behind a blocking disk. The first day concluded with a reception at the Clearwater Beach hotel where most of the players were staying.

Jonathan of the Royal Palms Shuffleboard Club in Brooklyn greets the Allens
from the Allen R. Shuffleboard Company at the tournament's opening reception

The tournament officially kicked off the next day as the teams from all over the world paraded behind their flags. We were welcomed by local dignitaries and shuffleboard officials. A recording of the national anthem for each country was played, and I have to admit I got a little choked up at the thought of representing the USA.

After lunch, matches began and I was extremely nervous. There is a warm-up ritual before each game, and I found it completely confusing. This was my first shuffleboard competition at any level, and I was not sure what to expect. My first match was against a French Canadian with years of experience and I soon found myself in a deep hole that I could never dig out of. I learned very quickly that there is a big difference between recreational shuffleboard, what I later heard referred to as "shoot and giggle", and competitive shuffleboard. My opponents were all very cordial, and most of them were helpful and friendly, but they all played to win. In most of my games I was over matched, and once the game was out of hand, my opponents gave me tips on strategy.

I learned more about the game in one week than I had learned in two years of the Orlando Shuffle. At this level, there is a great deal of strategy and nuance. Players know where to aim, where not to aim, and possess the skills to put the disk exactly where they want to. Age is irrelevant, but experience is. The winner of the men's tournament was the same age as me, 50, but he's been playing since he was eight years old! The players could tell you which disks were faster than others and which parts of the courts were slow. Ultimately I lost far more matches than I won.

My first win came against a Norwegian who led by two scores with three frames left. I cut his lead in the next frame and then he was 'kitchened' on the next frame. The kitchen is the area in the back of the scoring triangle, and landing your disk in the kitchen results in ten off your score. It's the equivalent of a 'pick 6' in football, and it is the great equalizer in shuffleboard. I was tutored to beware of the kitchen, but not be afraid of it. I avoided the kitchen my final frame to beat the Norwegian, who would go on to become one of his country's best players in the tournament.

With my confidence high I entered a match against an undefeated American and at the end of eight frames I was up by a whopping 36 points. The next eight frames he challenged me to try to knock his disks into the kitchen by placing them deep in the scoring area. I knew that he would be right back in the game if I landed in the kitchen, so I allowed him to score. He slowly caught up until he passed me on the last shot of the match. It was a devastating loss. I didn't sleep much that night.

I found when I was in close matches my heart beat fast, my adrenaline flowed and I felt incredibly alive. Overall I was in four close matches, losing two and winning two (both against Norwegians.) I also was on the plus side of one lopsided match against an inexperienced player from Ohio. But the majority of my matches were learning opportunities against better players where I was soundly defeated.

Wednesday evening I gave a five minute speech at the end of the Hall of Fame banquet about the Orlando Shuffle. I reported how over the last two years with the help of a handful of committed shufflers, we have attempted to revitalize the game in Orlando.  After reviewing the old Florida Shuffleboard Association directories on hand in Clearwater, it looks like the official Orlando Shuffleboard Club dissolved in the late '90s.  Now we shuffle on the first and third Saturday each month, and I have high hopes that we can start a league next year. My talk was well received and I think our future efforts will be broadly supported by other players in the state.

When Orlando had an active club, it was in the Northern district with clubs from Volusia and Lake counties. According to another shuffler, the district had as many as 14 clubs at one time, but is now down to five. New Smyrna Beach alone has gone from four clubs down to one. But the game of shuffleboard seems much healthier in areas of Florida with larger retirement communities. According to Jim Allen of the Allen R. Shuffleboard Company, municipal shuffleboard facilities are becoming more scarce, while courts that are amenities for retirement communities are still desirable. As real estate prices soar, the amount of land a shuffleboard complex needs can often become too valuable to be used for recreation. Many of the European players are used to playing on plastic or 'poly' courts, which are becoming more prevalent.

Lakeside, Ohio has a shuffleboard club that has tournaments for kids, and they produced Bob Jones, Jr., this year's men's champion. In addition to the success of Brooklyn's Royal Palms Shuffleboard Club and the St. Pete Shuffleboard Club, a new indoor club in Ohio has opened, bringing the game to even more new players.

While many of the participants were retirees from up north, most of the international players were younger. But the large municipal clubs like those in Clearwater and St. Cloud where the retirees play are not as healthy as they have been in the past.  So I guess I'll keep the "Save Our Shuffleboard" Facebook group active so that folks don't take this great game for granted.

I'm still processing all I learned this week. I made great connections and met new friends. There is a distinct shuffleboard culture and it was fun to be part of the the game's community for a week. I soared after spectacular highs and re-grouped after crushing lows. I got a deeper look into the intricacies of a game that can be both infuriating and rewarding. I got schooled. But it was a small price to pay because at the end the week I held the ranking of the 56th best mens shuffleboard player in the world.