Showing posts with label springs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label springs. Show all posts

Monday, July 25, 2011

Roadtrip to Excelsior Springs, Missouri



Here’s another fun place for Central Missourians to visit—a perfect spot for a “staycation”—one that you might not be familiar with: Excelsior Springs. It’s northeast of Kansas City on Highway 10, and it’s a Missouri analogue to Hot Springs, Arkansas.





The Springs and the Hall of Waters


In order to understand Excelsior Springs, you must first understand that natural spring water, of various types, has historically been viewed as a healthful, even medicinal substance. There are plenty of biblical mentions of healing waters, and it was only with our post–World War II understanding of microbes and antibiotics that spring and mineral waters lost their broad appeal.

(Realize: many folks still stand behind the restorative and even miraculous properties of various types of waters. Spas, soaking, and steaming are still quite popular; people are more persnickety than ever about the purity of the water that comes out of their taps and innumerable plastic bottles; and look at the concept of “holy water.”)




For more information about Missouri’s springs and spas history, I heartily recommend Loring Bullard’s book Healing Waters, which provides an informative overview of the mineral water craze that gave rise to dozens of spas, resorts, and towns in our state. It also functions as a sort of guidebook to the specific areas where Missouri’s healing springs and spas were located. Most are in ruins today, but often evidence remains. Fun reading!

Anyway, among the many towns that arose when people flocked to an area to “take the water,” when a local spring had caused some kind of “miracle cure,” Excelsior Springs is the one in Missouri that remains mostly intact. The town’s beautiful Art Deco–style Hall of Waters was built in the 1930s with PWA funds (we would call it “economic stimulus money” today).




Actually, the architectural style might officially be termed “Mesoamerican-revival/Flash Gordon–influenced Art Deco.” It is truly an interesting place.








The Hall of Waters should be your first stop in town! At the heart of the building is a completely groovy, retro “water bar,” which during its glory years dispensed four types of mineral water: Calcium bicarbonate, sodium bicarbonate, sulfo-saline, and iron manganese. Some were for “drinking,” others were more for medicinal use.

Currently, the Hall of Waters serves as the City Hall; a large, rectangular swimming pool (directly below the water bar) is unfortunately unusable due to flood damage some years ago. Too bad, because I think it would be neat to go swimming there.





Also located in the building are baths, showers, steam chambers, and other facilities for people to soak in and get sprayed with the waters. A “Scotch Douche,” by the way (apart from being a tremendously alarming idea, even to someone who loves good whiskey), is actually a form of hydrotherapy where you get blasted by jets of alternately cold and hot water. It’s supposed to be very, um, stimulating.




Yes, medical doctors used to prescribe various water treatments for such diseases as arthritis and polio. (I need to go look at some elderly medical texts to see what the doctors were saying about it at the time!)




I understand that the town would love, love, love to have someone come and reopen a spa in this groovy building. Think of the tourism from Kansas City!

The area was first discovered and developed as a mineral-water mecca in the 1880s. There are many springs around here, and what made them so notable originally was that the chemical composition of the waters varied—in a single town, you could find waters with, say, diuretic, blood-building, or mild laxative properties for treating gastric troubles, liver problems, rheumatism, and so on.

The citizens of Excelsior Springs are doing a fund-raising project in order to construct old-style gazebos over many of the historic springs, sort of how Eureka Springs, Arkansas, has made many of its spring openings into little city parks. I’m sure it will be excellent for tourism.

Unfortunately for anyone considering “trying it,” a majority of the local waters are no longer available, although the Excelsior Springs Bottling Company does sell a basic (and local), high-quality mineral water, in plastic bottles.




It tastes pretty good! Eight ounces contains 2 percent of your RDA of calcium; a liter of it has 91 mg of calcium, 6 mg of potassium, 330 mg of bicarbonates, and 23 mg of magnesium—and no sodium.

Excelsior Springs Museum and Archives

Another place you must see in Excelsior Springs is their local museum, downtown in a historic building that used to be an exquisitely appointed bank. It’s worth visiting even just to see the architecture and the glorious old bank vault.




The collections include lots of water-belia, such as old bottles and even older jugs, photographs, and a miscellany of antiques from local donors.






There’s an entire old-fashioned dentist’s office in there, which looks rather scary, and it’s fascinating to inspect.




As museums go, this one is, well, local. It’s a labor of love, devotion, and dedication. It is not a slick, big-city museum. Well, they have very little budget to work with! The two-dollar admissions fees, memberships, donations, and fund-raisers provide their income.




Does it sound rinky-dink? I would hate to make you think that, because everything in there is fascinating and real, and the people who work there (volunteers) are friendly, knowledgeable locals who are eager to answer your questions. They’re open Tuesday through Saturday, 11–4.





Ray’s Diner


There are plenty of good places to eat in Excelsior Springs, but Ray’s is notable for both nostalgia and its proximity to the Hall of Waters and history museum.




Ray’s opened in 1932: They still use the same perfectly seasoned grill that was used back then. Same lunch-counter stools, same cash register. The nifty red sign hanging above the entrance isn’t quite as old; it only dates to 1944!




Harry S Truman liked the chili! And there’s hamburgers. Pork tenderloin. French fries. Breakfasts. You know what I’m talking about. We found the service to be both fast and kind. (No surprise there!)




What more do I need to say about this, really? Only that the prices are entirely reasonable!




Okay—there’s one more thing you’d better take note of: This is a true, old-style diner. They open at six in the morning and close at two in the afternoon; and they’re closed on Sundays. (Also: they don’t take credit cards.)

Ray's Lunch on Urbanspoon


The Elms


On a very different note, another fascinating place is the Elms Resort, not far from downtown. The present building was built in 1912, though the Elms hotel, as a business, was created in 1888 (two previous incarnations of it burned down). It’s a magnificent building on sixteen wooded acres with nature trails, and it has a lot of history.

During the height of its popularity, Excelsior Springs drew people from all over the country—not just for the water, but as a peaceful resort community. The Elms was the premiere hotel for well-to-do visitors.




Primary among the notable events that occurred at the Elms is that Harry S Truman was staying here the night he unexpectedly won the presidential election against Thomas E. Dewey.

The hotel was also a favorite relaxation spot for gangster Al Capone. And as if that weren’t enough, there is speculation that at least one ghost haunts the premises.

The Elms is still open today, and although we didn’t stay there, it looks quite welcoming. It offers spa treatments and vacation getaways as well as a place for events—weddings, conferences, etc.

The restaurant looks promising, too; I noticed they have a Friday night all-you-can-eat buffet featuring prime rib, seafood, and pasta, which might be right up your alley. If you’re a Missourian looking for an interesting, relaxing, and beautiful “staycation” spot, you should consider the Elms.


The Waterfest

The town’s annual Waterfest was what drew us to Excelsior Springs—that, and my desire to see the retro-futuristic Hall of Waters.

A lot of small towns have created—or have resurrected—annual, colorful festivals celebrating something unique about the town. Thus, nearby Richmond, Missouri, has a mushroom festival to celebrate the annual appearance of morels. California, Missouri, has an annual Ham and Turkey Festival, which celebrates two of that town’s main industries. Hartsburg, “Missouri’s Pumpkin Patch,” has its beyond-popular Pumpkin Festival. And Dixon has “Cow Days.”




So Excelsior Springs naturally has a Waterfest to celebrate its mineral water. This year, it was held the last weekend in June. There’s live music, arts and crafts, festival food, car shows, a parade, fireworks, and more. Some of the activities did involve water—a dunking booth and water games for children and a Little Mr. and Miss Waterfest contest, for instance.


There’s Lots Going on in That Area


I guess you’ll have to wait for almost a whole year for the next Excelsior Springs Waterfest, but I suggest you go ahead and visit the town before that. I noticed that the nearby town of Lexington will be having a 150th anniversary commemoration of the Battle of Lexington on September 16–18, with a parade, living history events, film festival, and a reenactment of the Civil War battle that put the famous cannonball into the column of the county courthouse.




Also, more immediately, Lexington’s having its “4th Annual Missouri Peach Days” from July 30 to August 7. There are lots of orchards in that area, so this might be a fun (and tasty) event, indeed!

I already mentioned Richmond’s mushroom festival, and that town’s statue of Alexander W. Doniphan is worth seeing, too.

Anyway, we had a great time exploring Excelsior Springs and the nearby communities, and I really think you’ll enjoy it, too.

As usual, the best photos in this post were taken by Sue, and I am forever grateful for her willingness to help me with this silly blog!

Monday, October 4, 2010

Ha Ha Tonka State Park

October, the pinnacle of autumn, is probably the best month of the year to go outside and poke around in nature: The weather is great, the landscape breathtaking. A close runner-up for the award might be April, but for hiking October edges ahead because of the drier weather and superior trail conditions.




On September 26, our excursion was to Ha Ha Tonka State Park, arguably the crown jewel of the state park system. It “has it all,” and in an oversized way: Interesting human history ranging from aboriginal up to modern times; natural communities and a host of remarkable organisms; broad, wondrous views; hidden alcoves; and a range of options for accessibility and strenuousness.

Underlying its skin of soil and vegetation, this land offers a living encyclopedia of geologic wonders, a textbook of karst topography. A few miles of hiking can show you at least one example of just about every single type of karst feature: Caves (nineteen have been found so far within its borders), sinkholes, dramatic 250-foot bluffs, a chasm, a tremendous natural bridge, a pirated stream, fins and pinnacles, a balanced rock, and the state’s twelfth largest spring (48 million gallons a day), flowing into a gorgeous turquoise pool.

Formerly, there was a pleasant forty-acre fishing lake downstream of the spring, with rental cabins, boating, and bathing, but in 1931 the newly impounded Lake of the Ozarks swallowed it up.




The entire landscape is shaped by the partial collapse of an enormous cave system; all—including the original cave itself—sculpted over eons by the slow, steady rotting or dissolution of sedimentary, carbonate rock by mildly acidic groundwater seeping through its fissures. This is karst.

By now, you’ve probably guessed—correctly—that this is a large tract of land. The state park includes 3,709 acres; 953 acres of it has been designated as Ha Ha Tonka Oak Woodland Natural Area, which showcases and preserves a remarkable blend of prairie and forest—an open woodland—with gnarled oaks scattered over wild grasses and prairie forbs such as coneflowers, asters, sunflowers, milkweeds, and blazing star. (Formerly called a “savanna” landscape, apparently now it’s called “woodland”—I suppose to distinguish it from the savannas of Africa. I hope someone will let me know if I’m wrong on this point.)

Another natural community type is maintained at Ha Ha Tonka: dolomite glade. Glades in Missouri are like a little touch of the desert Southwest. Sunbaked, rocky outcrops on the tops of bluffs and ridges, thin soils, with few trees—inhabited by prickly pears, lizards, tarantulas, and other xeric specialists.




Ha Ha Tonka’s human history is rich, beginning with the Native peoples who settled here, hunted, and used the then free-flowing Osage River and its tributaries as transportation routes.

White Americans came to the area and were understandably impressed; these included Nathan Boone and his dad, Daniel, Meriwether Lewis (apparently), and James B. Wilkinson of the Pike Expedition, as well as less famous, even notorious individuals—outlaws and counterfeiters—who utilized the area’s many hidey-holes for their covert operations.

In the first quarter of the twentieth century, there was tremendous interest in this part of the Ozarks as a vacation retreat. At that time, the go-getters in the cities were discovering they needed solitude, quiet land, and clean air. At least on the weekends. To stay sane.

At about the same time, state parks were being established throughout the nation. In Missouri, Ha Ha Tonka was at the top of just about everyone’s list. Governor Hadley recommended it to the legislature in 1909 as the first Missouri state park; the bill passed in the Senate, but it failed by a single vote in the House. But it remained at the top of the state’s “beauty spots.”




Meanwhile, a developer showed up. A wealthy businessman in Kansas City, Robert M. Snyder, discovered the land and in 1903 bought up more than five thousand acres. The following year, construction began on this clubman’s massive private retreat: A three-story, twenty-eight-room mansion built of stone in the style of an English-Renaissance castle, perched high on a bluff overlooking Ha Ha Tonka Spring. To support his retreat, Snyder also built an eight-hundred-foot water tower made of stone, and a carriage house, greenhouses, stables, and homes for his various servants. Plus roadways for all this, of course.






To build the castle, twenty stonemasons were “imported” from Scotland. The rock was quarried on the property; today, one of the trails provides views of some of the quarries.

Only about three years into his project—and no doubt relishing his prospects for hiking, fishing, hunting, and hobhobbing with his political, banker, and gas company cronies (and his sons, too), in the upper-class hunting-lodge fashion—Snyder was killed in an automobile accident in 1906. (In 1906, there were hardly any cars then. It was one of the state’s first automobile accidents.)




Construction was halted. But by 1922, the mansion had been completed through the efforts of Snyder’s sons. The Snyder family apparently didn’t spend a lot of time at Ha Ha Tonka, however, and by the forties or so, it had become a resort hotel. In 1942, the stone mansion burned.

It wasn’t supposed to burn, but it did. And after that, the ruins just stood there.




Over the years, the Snyders had made a number of attempts to sell the property to the state, but the price was always too high for the legislators. The land was purchased by others, who then tried to resell it, and vandalism took a toll on the structures. Eventually, though, the state was finally able to acquire the land in 1978. Thus it was seventy years before what “should” have been Missouri’s first state park to actually become one.

The Missouri Department of Natural Resources, which administrates the land, has worked hard and successfully to restore and maintain the delicate natural communities at Ha Ha Tonka, as well as curate the stark stone remnants of the mansion. Those intriguing walls, arches, and gables would certainly have tumbled down by now if not for the cleverly camouflaged reinforcing of the stones, and blending of new mortar with old.




The ruins are nifty-cool. Make sure you bring a camera.




The most popular trails have been converted in large part to wooden “boardwalks,” improving accessibility while also keeping the herds of visitors from trampling the vegetation.






Probably the most popular hike is the one that leads from the “castle” past the water tower, then around “Whispering Dell” (an enormous sinkhole), then down three hundred steps to get to the spring. (The sign says 316, but sixteen steps go upward as the boardwalk negotiates a stone outcropping. Yes, I counted.)






Though the spring is gushing at a staggering rate, the overall look is tranquil. You just can’t beat the color of springwater.




From there, the boardwalk follows the flow of the water toward its connection with the Niangua Branch of the Lake of the Ozarks. Accessibility note: There is one place where the boardwalk ends and the visitor must walk through a cleft in a huge boulder; for about two feet, the path narrows to a chute less than a foot wide. But it’s level. You just have to go single-file and watch where you step.




This trail connects with the short loop trail that traces the island (yes, there’s an island), and that’s where you can see the balanced rock.




I could go on and on about Ha Ha Tonka, but I’d better lay off, so we all can get back to the work of the day. So we can finish earlier. So we can have more time for hiking.

It’s October, you know.




Buy This Book

If you liked the kind of information in this post, I encourage you to purchase a copy of this book, which tells the story of each of Missouri’s State Parks and Historic Sites. The text is superb, and the photography magnificent. It looks like a coffee-table book, but it reads like the best history professor you ever had. Great for planning your next outing!

Exploring Missouri’s Legacy: State Parks and Historic Sites, ed. Susan Flader. Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1992.


And . . . there’s more to the story: In my next post, I examine the etymology of the name Ha Ha Tonka. Click here.