Adventures in the Hot Spring Sauna

Chapter 21: Hooked Up and Loving It

Crossing into Arkansas, we landed at Hot Springs National Park—probably the dumbest possible destination in the middle of July. But this was our very first time ever on full RV hook-up (water, electric, sewer). Translation: I could leave the tap running like a spoiled suburbanite and Nelson could rinse dishes without me yelling “SAVE THE WATER!” It was glorious. Our creekside site was lovely, dinner was bell pepper beef stir-fry al fresco, and the flies tormented Nelson so much that he tormented me in return. Romance!


Chapter 22: Barbershop in the Wild
 Late brunch (smoked salmon, scrambled eggs, berries), then Nelson’s “back-to-work” prep began: an outdoor haircut under the sunshade. Nothing says vanlife glamour like me snipping away while he sat in a $10 camping chair with a barber cape fluttering in the breeze. It was awkward, hilarious, and surprisingly effective—we proved that yes, you can cut and color your partner’s hair in the great outdoors, though the neighbors probably thought we were auditioning for a survivalist reality show.


Chapter 23: Death March to Bathhouse Row

In the afternoon, we made the questionable (i.e. dumb) decision to hike into Hot Springs Village. Walking uphill in oven-like heat nearly melted me, and discovering steaming little pools of spring water (in 100°F weather!) felt like a cosmic prank. Still, Bathhouse Row stunned me: a stretch of elegant European-style buildings that looked completely out of place in small-town Arkansas. Louise even texted back, “That does not look like the US!” and she was right. I half want to come back in winter—but honestly, Taiwan still does hot springs better (outdoor sulfur pools, mountain breezes, hot pot… sigh).


Too stubborn to retrace our sweaty steps uphill, we strolled the long way back through town. My face was bright red, I was about to keel over, and then—salvation appeared: Frosty Treat. Retro roadside shop, giant scoops of ice cream for $1.50 each, and absolutely no sharing allowed because we were both dying of heat. I swear, that cone saved my life.

Back at camp, we cooled off in our AC-powered van (finally appreciating full hook-up luxury), debated whether to use the campground’s “one-bathroom-each” setup, and settled into our little oasis. Dinner was Taiwanese-inspired “oyster vermicelli,” improvised with Walmart smoked oysters. Odd? Yes. Perfect for the night? Absolutely.



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